#sulli - Hello Poetry

Deep in the darkest night When there's no light His force is coming And you cant do a thing The darker it gets the more powerful he is sharp fangs that shine in the moon if you look in his eyes you better run when the moon hides he will look for your behind you got have to go soon follow the sun and you better run trust me, hold my hand lets run away from this land from this place in a lagoon look at me, ill protect you from the forces we never knew

0

Nov 7, 2025

Nov 7, 2025 at 6:48 PM UTC

Kozu

Dracula

Deep in the darkest night When there's no light His force is coming And you cant do a thing The darker it gets the more powerful he is sharp fangs that shine in the moon if you look in his eyes you better run when the moon hides he will look for your behind you got have to go soon follow the sun and you better run trust me, hold my hand lets run away from this land from this place in a lagoon look at me, ill protect you from the forces we never knew

19

There was a girl who loved to read She would read the faces of other people Those tiny, hidden, subtle expressions That were passive but she was capable She could read the voices of others Those who aged within the pages Who stayed immortal in written words Immune to the outside life changes She would read atmospheres and moods In order to know what to portray She became a character who was dependent On what the readers wanted her to play She treated each new encounter Like a newly rewritten page Good ones filled with laughter Bad ones became a cage Stuck between the same pages Trapped under the same words Desperately wanting to flip to the next A new page or at least the next verse She was imprisoned inside a book That gathered dust and was rarely opened Trapped inside a story that wasn't hers Only made her feel more broken She was irrelevant, a side character In a world that was not written for her She was only a minor character Who would not be cared for if she died first She was a reader, not a storyteller Her mind consumed people's stories Lost and confused on an unwritten path Consumed more of her prematurely New character roles and labels Became etched into her skin All of what was expected of her To survive the story she was in With every word written on her Strayed further from who she was Every dialogue from which she spoke Only strengthened her facade But everyone is a storyteller Anyone who has a life She ventured off from the narrative And created her own story line She twisted the story's plot To carve in a new script To tell the story that is her In memory of a misfit

0

Mar 15, 2020

Mar 15, 2020 at 2:43 PM UTC

celestinus_eclipse

Protagonist

There was a girl who loved to read She would read the faces of other people Those tiny, hidden, subtle expressions That were passive but she was capable She could read the voices of others Those who aged within the pages Who stayed immortal in written words Immune to the outside life changes She would read atmospheres and moods In order to know what to portray She became a character who was dependent On what the readers wanted her to play She treated each new encounter Like a newly rewritten page Good ones filled with laughter Bad ones became a cage Stuck between the same pages Trapped under the same words Desperately wanting to flip to the next A new page or at least the next verse She was imprisoned inside a book That gathered dust and was rarely opened Trapped inside a story that wasn't hers Only made her feel more broken She was irrelevant, a side character In a world that was not written for her She was only a minor character Who would not be cared for if she died first She was a reader, not a storyteller Her mind consumed people's stories Lost and confused on an unwritten path Consumed more of her prematurely New character roles and labels Became etched into her skin All of what was expected of her To survive the story she was in With every word written on her Strayed further from who she was Every dialogue from which she spoke Only strengthened her facade But everyone is a storyteller Anyone who has a life She ventured off from the narrative And created her own story line She twisted the story's plot To carve in a new script To tell the story that is her In memory of a misfit

48

our fairest princess has surely run away. she's joined our pretty prince and together they stay. up in the stars, conversing with the clouds, running wild, running free, her wings, making his, oh, so proud.

0

Oct 19, 2019

Oct 19, 2019 at 7:18 AM UTC

jisunize

jinri

our fairest princess has surely run away. she's joined our pretty prince and together they stay. up in the stars, conversing with the clouds, running wild, running free, her wings, making his, oh, so proud.

8