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Odd Odyssey Poet Jan 2022
A leaf in the wind;
was falling in the rain
(such heavy rain)

It's despair,
the story of a kid
(such a common story)

Who fell away from their peers;
as it's so lonely to be brave.

As poverty's coin flipped over;
soon dead on it's head.
Chasing any chance of wealth;
going round in circles,
Chasing it's tail.

With a gun of six;
shot, shot, shot, shot, shot, shot!
The weapon of man's hand;
that only revolves around death.

And I'd still ask the Lord,
to shine on our worth;
Despite of us being at our worst,
never lose the light of earth,
as we keep shinning our torches.
ryn Jun 2021
       +                                +        
        +     ­       +        +
+                                              ­              
      •      +
+          our                  
                 paths ma-    y    +          +
+       meander•in      m-          
  any a thousand    wa-    
ays•our feet may  yet  
find the paired other•
just as long as the
torches remain


Though I don’t know
Exactly what to say
Still I must respond
To the undying impulse to write
Meaningless be It may
Still the flames I’ll sustain
And reward myself with the joy
Of a holding a pen
This is a call
A duty I must perform
So when the urge comes
I allow my heart to flow
Into the streams of many generations
Yes, generations yet to come
So when my torch burns out
My life will still glow
Like a many thousand lights
Long after I am gone
M Solav Jul 2020
Must there be the voice of an old man
To be inspired by wisdom?
Must there be intelligible words
To guess out the intention?
Must there be vulnerability
To presume the proper truth?

  There ain’t a single channel
  On the interface of dialogue.

Must we lie only in whispers
To keep hurt under the seal?
Must we sigh only in earnest
To show others where we bleed?
Must we die only in peace
To pass the torch with ease?

  There ain’t a single channel
  On the interface of dialogue.
Written in November 2019.

— Copyright © M. Solav —

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact for usage requests. Thank you.
Rezium Mar 2020
Life will continue and time will pass.
Like Vid-19
You'll only be remembered in class.
Mentioned in the worst ways and times.
¿Te acuerdas de tu hermano?
I'll hesitate and say I remember the time i spent contemplating if I'd ever get you or not.

I get it but why?
Leaving me a responsibility I never asked for.
He's mad and sad,
Doesn't even consider that fact I'm passed out
Blacked out
Crossed now
Passed out
Lost now
Doesn't even know the blood forbade the name engraved, he was enslaved to and will change to a new.

Though it won't stay the same, I still hold the title and torch.
The one I'm expected to hold high with pride!
I won't let you down
But i will to him.

I'm sorry all we have is a blurred photo together and that all you could hear was gibberish from my mouth.
But know I love you.
Thick or thin
Sorry brother...
Shannon Spivey Feb 2020
I saw him in the corner
The place you used to sit
My ghost of unrequited love
And he's become a surrogate
His eyes burned into me
They're the same shade of blue
He haunts me in these hallways
In the same way you used to
When I smile at him
It's you that's on my mind
A tangible replacement
To the one who left me behind
All you had to do was kiss me
Then you left me distracted
And this torch burns for you
But it's him I've attracted
nanimono Dec 2019
I really want to shout out your name on the roof top

Trying  to tell you how I miss you so bad

I even don't know in which part of the world you are right now

For me your presence always feels like...

a torch that I can hold to light up the way,

a salty salt in the fresh sea, and

One breath that always I needed to fill my lung cavity
Mirza Lazim Jan 2019
I grabbed the eternal fire of the life
when your laugh suddenly grasped me in a void.
As you cuddled my abandoned, desolate spirit,
what a piece of sparkle could really commit
did you at least see and feel it, my dear?

Till now I remember your humane manners,
as I climb my first power-smelling ladders...
I see how the love inside turns into ego,
If I'd have been sober and hadn't let you go,
Would you have still been so true and sincere?

Power is as right as the origin of life,
however as guilty as the creator's strive.
I live all the moments as if my last ones
and wish for a moment, just only at a glance
that you were around now, that you were here...

You are the reflection of my hazy past,
my self-destructed, inside-lost part,
a disparaged philosopher, a despised poet,
our sublime revenge we begin to get,
and my majestic woman,  
you are inside yet...
So, the future is definitely clear...

Future is clear...
I am coming through,
With you
Even writing
And for the first time without any regret
Riley Cartwright Dec 2018
This isn’t about the Sun anymore.
This isn’t about being the Earth anymore.
For once it’s not about being walked on.
It’s not about false hope.
It’s about hurting.

This is about burning.

Not because of the Sun.
But rather, the fact that you blindly followed a torch in the darkness and now—now you are lost.

And no matter how long you stare at the plaster on your ceiling, all of the lines and dots and weird shapes, the map isn’t clear.

You wanted to grab the torch to bring the light closer, to see better.

But you went to far and grabbed the flame.
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