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Karijinbba Mar 29
His light house amidst
his mystic fog, signals belated
in triumphant decore,
Enamoured with ancient joy
of his blue green dreams
I chant.
“His rod and his staff
comfort me and all surrounding
gore departs.
I breathe in gasping
about my true love.
as he spots my battered
vessel into the wind sailing.
  Ecstasy twinkles his teary eye
   in the magic water dancing glare,
of our mystical full moon light.

For too long I've traveled
jeweled triumphant
yet unable to reach
his promised treasure vaults.

To the greed of legions on
treacherous paths all alone I wept,
through enemy's territories,
but all those from me have fled.

I roamed alone yester woods
I reach his safe private harbour
his peaceful shores.
As trustworthy jeweled queen
regardless of grave loss.

Willfully he reveals his home key
to come open up his door
as photographic memories
on new calming waters
get anchored deep.

At last I shall rest in love
on my bittersweet bed of roses
red, and flowers wild;
   white sad lilies on hand,
saluting my beloved glories
recaptured and retained.

Enduring rhythmic ways
with courage, heart
brain and hope and off my
survival modes into éasier dwelling
  into my grave but neither there
I shall trod alone no more.
By Karijinbba
All rights.
CupcakesArePink Jan 2021
i wear headphones
it doesnt matter

if theyre wired or bluetooth
if its on max volume or not

the music drowns everything out
and keeps the vault under control
Bede Sep 2019
Added collections,
Tomes of tomes,
Memory lane in poetic fashion.
Curated by yours truly!
Bede Sep 2019
Vaulted poems
Separated with the
Special intentions
Of the heart
Bede Sep 2019
My name is Tommy
I go by Bede
Because I'm afraid to be me.

I'm obsessed with names
Because I'm ashamed
Of what I can turn mine into.

No longer!
I am Tommy
And I will be proud.
The Dybbuk Feb 2018
Home to every haunting dream,
Everything that makes you scream,
Your memories of an assault,
They call this place The Vault.
Holding secrets you don't know,
Letting out a darkened glow,
Guards on all sides shouting "Halt!"
They call this place The Vault.
Holding in what's scaring you,
Your insecurities like goo,
The source of every single fault,
They call this place The Vault.
Devin Ortiz Sep 2017
Desperate was the Hand,
To the Fist,
To the Door of Introspection,
To the Mind, to the Darkness.

Pounding, pounding away,
The broken bones,
To the dust of flesh.

A moment before forfeit,
The Great Gate collapses.
Bursting into a torrential tide of Madness,
This scornful swell swam deep into the Heart.
Its suffocating chill, mirroring the growing Dissent,
Resonating all of discord in a living Thought.

Hope's last stand sends deceit fleeing.
Rushing waves, shuttering away,
From the pathetic kindle.
Such a sad flicker, this bastion of salvation.

As with All Things, this too falls.
The Darkness, the Madness,
The Door to all Doors,
Consumes the Light.
miss keisha Aug 2017
i closed my heart and hid the key.
for protection,
for deception,
for reservation.
but now far too much time has passed
and when i decided to unshackle the locks,
i've regretfully discovered
that the key has long since rusted,
and the vault will be forever closed.
Star BG May 2017
Secrets of a poet are hidden inside heartbeats,
ready to be played on scripted page,
on platform for readers eyes.

They're buried beneath scar thought to be healed.
Exposed to bleed once again
so a poem can be birthed.

Perhaps, Secrets are inside rays of sun
that dance with kaleidoscope beauty
inside a warm breeze.

Or on top of a shooting star moving in galaxy
that opens one to wish inside a breathe.

Secrets in treasure chest of scribes vault
welcomes a readers eyes
with key-like words and strong intention.

Come, open the vault with eyes and partake
wont you?  The invitation is now given.
Inspired by Sunprincess poem Writing
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