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Alex Hite Dec 2015
Corners aren’t too bad to stand in
When you have nowhere to go
The clock will be your only friend
When you’re sitting there alone

The faces in the pictures
Pose dusty in delight
They bury their eyes into yours
Try to take out all your light

The doors are getting smaller
The walls are closing in
Your fears are getting taller
Your worlds coming to an end

Your fingertips go through
What wasn’t even there
Your future and your new
Things that never go somewhere

Sit still and let it drown you
Your day has nearly come
Time is the woman in the shoe
She’s whipped you and you’re done
SøułSurvivør Dec 2015
I went to the window
I saw your soul of night
there was no flicker of a flame
no redeeming light

I went to the window
the dragons that I saw
had red, green and glowing eyes
were hideously flawed

I went to the window
I watched, but didn't care
that you struggled every day
that you were in despair

I went to the window
I saw you in the glass
but I didn't pray for you
I thought, "this, too, shall pass..."

I went to the window
and thought with a frown
"this person of iniquity
is surely going down..."

I went to the window
oh, what did I see?
that window was a mirror

the person there was ME.



SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/14/2015
Sometimes the sin we see in
others is our OWN. And don't
that make it kinda difficult to

JUDGE???
SøułSurvivør Dec 2015
a butterfly caked with dust
a cathedral black as rust
an **** of satanic lust
but who, O fool, can you entrust?

you prance and sneer, put on a frown
call Believing people stupid clowns
in moors with bogs to drag you down
a place of darkness where you drown.

Marilyn Manson had his kicks
devil's music, Satan's licks
laugh, say Jesus is for hicks
ignore the goads, ignore the ******.

we're all worked up? in a stew?
while you scream like skewered shrews?
kohl your eyes with blackest goo
party's in hell?

THE JOKE'S ON YOU.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/13/2015
I hate to be down on people.
But these goth musicians are terrible.
And leading an entire generation astray.

P.S. ****** used in the context of this
poem is the same as "goad". In biblical
times they had sharpened prods on
the wagons to goad the oxen to keep
pulling.
SøułSurvivør Dec 2015
---

quoth the raven...
                NEVER MORE
and the wind replied ...
                restore.... restore.

a waterbird
on a lonely lake
cried... whip-poor-will.....
and the wind said... take.

a snowy owl
in a gnarled tree
cried... who? who?
and the wind replied... THEE.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/13/2015
Kunal Kar Dec 2015
Old photographs tell a tale,
Of a smiling face turned afraid.
The kid wanted to be a man,
And now when I am,
I look upon it as a foolish mistake.

For the race has started,
From the very teenage part.
Asked to work harder, a prey for the earnest,
A journey without a destination,
How am I supposed to win if this race never ends?
I must let this go,
And rest to take a breath,
Realise what I've been skipping,
The colours of this wonderful flora,
The sounds of birds echoing as a wave.
elizabeth Dec 2015
My friends in high school
Used to laugh when I told them
I always slept with my phone on,
Just in Case

Four months into my first real job
I try to stop my head from spinning
By silencing my friends
In different time zones on a Monday night

I wake up from a dream
Where I see you for the first time in weeks
To missed calls and messages
"I need help. I am in trouble."

My stomach becomes your rope bracelet
That got stuck in my lace shirt
The first time I slept over
Only this time, I am trying to fix it alone

You answer me before the sun
Lights up my living room
Not laughing at my overreaction
As we both know your alarms are often warranted

I do not try to turn your pain
Into something beautiful
But rather my fears
Into something concrete

That night I brush my teeth,
Gums bleeding,
Eyelids falling,
Phone volume on Max
Watching out my window,
a thought flies through my head-
about the little hummingbird
flapping overhead.
As it zips,
and it zaps,
and its little wings flap
so hard to keep going,
to suckle on sap,
it seems to me
that this little thing,
so tiny and frail
doesn't mind the sting
of tough days and tough nights
as it valianty fights,
as it works and it toils
just to get by;
working for hours
to have enough to still fly.
I think and I think
on the merits of this notion;
So deeply moved,
I am stirred to emotion.
I shake myself, rising
as I abandon my rest-
Move over world;
I have limits to test.
Torin Nov 2015
Heavy as a thousand tons
Weighing down my worrid mind
Minutes meaning less and less
Degenerating bones and flesh
And all I'm left with
Is a feeling of dread
And a voice inside my head saying

Trouble

Heavy as a thousand stones
Being thrown its all my worried mind
This little rose I try to hold
These thorns and then I let it go
And all that I have left
Is healing hands and helping words
And a voice inside my head saying

Trouble

Heavy as the world I love
Spinning around inside my head
A song I wrote
What did you do?
What did you get yourself into?
Why did you do it?
The crew pushed you threw it.
Now you're hurt.
The same hurt on you to blurt,
That you're in trouble
A hurt that lasts a time that's double.
I do not all the rise to duplications of my writings, photography, or personal information
prompty Nov 2015
when day is done
the sons of metalurgy
will return home -
dusk upon their shoulder
and a sharp eye
looking for trouble.

but time flows ever onward
and many more twilights
will show.

the search will feel ancient
and the chest of memories
will weight a lifetime.

she and the moon glare in the distance:
how many dreams it will take
to walk the one and only road?
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