The first sign of a dream approaching is that when you’ve already awoken,
awoken to a strange place with no trace of how you could’ve gotten there.
And the unfamiliar faces near, with eyes similar to shaded shards,
you can’t help but notice the feelings emitted was somehow something you’ve come to known before,
but where?
A sign of discord covers the room,
all that was allowed is furthest from you,
a parched paper made from twill knows nothing but lead between  
and you find a face emerging from it,
quickly drawn with detail,
there it stops from motion to undulating surpass,
away from a darkened room up in front of a morning taking.
This conjuring source flairs outward
rising through the outworn canvas
leading it to embers
dancing away along a fizzled plane
for what was despair described in its meaningful dereliction.
To what is empty from emotion is nonexistent,
I couldn’t find the reason to live on,
this dream has died as will I.. as will the will of this way this place carries over me.
Yes decay follows me,
unto everywhere will there be the silent breezes to carry me past the concrete terrain into nothingness.
I find myself to live this over,
until the advent of air drowns these lungs to know again,
to know exactly what it means to breathe again.
I see no reason for such things as unrealistic as they may seem likely for me to occur in this living.
Again I’m stuck in a room full of my owns thoughts,
such a dangerously sorrowful place to be.
For everything as it may have not been
weary am I for looking forward at
The things that never happened
5.3

the cello that wails the loudest, is one that suffers the most. Even so, every tone encapsulates the listener with resonance. And in that, it reaches its utmost vulnerability, showing the many hues imbedded in an infinite sadness, in an astronomical way, a type of exquisite somber, that resides in the instrument’s hollowness until implementation of procedure.
Would you dream of me in the space of a breath?

Please say yes.
Short and sweet. Oddly this poem was a pain to write, it's been titled rough start and been sitting in my saved folder for like a year or so. I think it wasn't working because I was trying to add more to it and it didn't need it at all.
Sophia Jun 15
The clouds block the sunset
And I can’t help but think how fitting

(I view the holy light of your salvation from behind bars
And you, dangling the key, choose not to free me)

And now I watch this sunset
Speckled behind dark clouds
Desperately poking through to me
Because I guess god can’t cut me some slack and feed me the warmth I so desperately crave
Rather I must be teased by Mother Nature herself as she gives me just enough heat to keep me from freezing to death

The red glow is almost gone
It’s melting into that abyss
It’s falling off the edge of the earth
I can still see a sliver
I can still see it trying to break through
...
It’s gone now
It’s gone  
I’m staring at all the colors
All the remnants
All the pieces
All the gorgeous strokes of light that dapple the other wise pale sky
But the light is gone

The sun actually sets before we see it go down
The light refracts when the sun is below the horizon to give us the illusion it’s still shining bright
So when we watch it slip into the earth it’s already six feet under
Time blocks the sunset
And I can’t help but think how fitting
Feeling really ignored

I don’t like this poem to much but I felt like I had to post something.
Knit Personality Jan 2015
Love, I demand you leave me here alone!
Molest no more my eyes with fantasies!
Gather your tears and pins and sicknesses,
And fly, never to retrace the flight hence flown!
Donate to other dogs my every bone...
Blow them away, the busy birds and bees...
And wishes that I've whispered on the breeze...
And fly as Icarus flew—until you drown!
To burn to ashes daily by desire,—
To reach for flowers but somehow pluck but weeds,—
If ever somehow these appeared my needs
Nor do I any more these things require.
Release me from the sinf'lly bitter strife
Of vain yearning!  Grant me a happy life!
Amanda Jun 10
Didn't I make you happy?
Wasn't I there for you?
Am I not right here waiting,
After the pain you put me through?

I tried hard to be like you,
I wanted so badly to make you proud,
It looks like it was all in vain,
My knees are weak, head is bowed.

Who am I going to confide in now?
Who will be there to clutch my hand?
I have never taken you for granted,
Do you get why I can't understand?

Why do bad things happen
To people who deserve good things most?
I gave you the world hidden within me,
You left me with your empty ghost.

I am sure you're doing fine by yourself
While I'm hollow, yearning for your kiss,
I may not be the perfect girl,
I know I deserve more than this.
Written 1/4/13
rob kistner Jun 9
_

there is a brilliant darkness
of the broken soul
from which springs a well
of melancholy
so deep
and bittersweet
as to stir the tongue
of the brooding poet
to loose a torrent
of sorrowed yearning
so rich with longing
that the hearts
of all who read
will ache
with raw desire
for the one true
and burning love
lost to fate
and all of time

_


rob kistner © 2013
the yearning regret of lost love
Willow shade Jun 6
When I go to the devil,
when I am completely down
then I sorely fathom that
all hands of hope have withdrawn.

And the time will not come back...
Leaving a bitter solace...
As huge as the burning sun
which I try to embrace

Wish you could extinguish
my hell which I desire.
I miss you like Satan pines
for the eternal fire.

You see lurid reflections
in my poems as an art.
You can read me from my hands,
wish you could do from my heart...
Joshua Nai Jun 6
I sit in a park.
I wait for a spark.

Searching for something, someone.
Could I see it? I don't know.  
This desire grows.

I look up, it's something from up above.
So I wait, searching, desperate to be touched by love.
rd Jun 4
My parched soul yearns
for drops of love
Come,soak me,with this elixir of life
filling deep,the crevices of my dead heart
until I'm revived..
Joe Savarese May 31
To what must I suffice to see,
The apex of my desires free,
Foreboding lust, my vice is thee,
Your hex—a web I cannot flee.

Words would falsely predicate
In ways they’d only misconstrue
Although, I wish to postulate
For my heart it leaps ado

So what must I sacrifice to be
In light of your fires company,
As foreboding lust advises me
Entranced by your mystic beauty

Effects you’ve caused must follow through,
Affections laws, I must pursue,
Though passions flaws are all too true
I’m given no choice… but to yearn for you
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