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Leila Sep 17
Cold finger tips
Rush down my arm
Yet fire burns through my veins
Lighting me up
What I feel is not life
Rather a silver lining
Passionate yet sorrow
Filled with a vengeance that cuts deep
My eyes roll back
The kiss of death now comes

A sugary sweet smell
Of a flower
It twists and turns
Sharp vines puncture itself
Yet it flows along
When the wind comes it drifts along with it
But a rock can not understand that
The rock sits and stays
A strong silent type
Obedient in its own will
Not so much stubborn rather unsure
I wrote this when I was 15, it’s what I consider to be my first “good” poem. I hope you enjoy it <3
Amanda Hawk Jul 22
fresh starts creep like vines
layering the window sill
the day smells like rain
IMCQ Apr 27
Fiendish wires driven deep into the mind.
Subsisting on the chaos it compels unto others.
Craving lechery and deference.
When resisted the coils tighten.
Its weighted vines make it difficult to stand.
I know what it fears,
We are the same.
The threads are not mine.
If I controlled the them I'd do the same.
We are puppeteers.
I see the treasure he holds, how he abuses it.
Run away.
Beckoning
by Michael R. Burch

Yesterday the wind whispered my name
while the blazing locks
of her rampant mane
lay heavy on mine.
And yesterday
I saw the way
the wind caressed tall pines
in forests laced by glinting streams
and thick with tangled vines.
And though she reached
for me in her sleep,
the touch I felt was Time's.

This is an early poem, written during my youthful Romantic period. I believe I wrote the original poem around age 18, then revised it six years later. Keywords/Tags: Love, freedom, beckoning, lure, allurement, time, wind, pines, streams, vines, hair, mane, locks, travel, departure, parting, separation, loss
Lilly F Mar 29
one day, earth will take it all back
and you'll be wailing under her vines, as they tie down your limbs
gasping for air as her flowers grow in your lungs,
drowning as her salty waters fill up your throat,
until the only word you can stutter from your helpless, desperate lips
is sorry

©L.F.
inspired by the quote: "she will take it back someday, slowly but surely"
-pink floyd
Aquila Mar 5
When our hands' touch
i feel electricity
run through my veins
like vines turned to ash



and then you pull away
and then you pull away
and then you pull away
ugh
Anastasia Dec 2019
twisting
creeping
vines 'round my heart
thorns
piercing
tearing it apart
pressure
squeezing
dripping shards
paper skin
ripping softly
declaring love
absolutely falsely
dripping heat
blood falls
breaking hearts
an impressive feat
roses bloom
from seeds of shards
pure love
for you to discard
Anastasia Aug 2019
lillies
and lilacs
violet
and white
the scent
of sweetness
makes it
alright
bitter
sweetness
coats
my tongue
vines
creeping
with blossoms
twisting
around
the swing
and there
we sat
just you and me
your hand in mine
for eternity
Anastasia Aug 2019
She was made
of gold
and marble
and she stood
above
the water.
A boy of stone
less looked at
stood hidden
behind
the ivy.
Forgotten
by most
he loved
the girl
made
of gold
and marble.
He
loved her
she
loved him
and they whispered
their love
in the night.
what do you think?
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