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Soul Scribe Jul 2018
The Sun, of fire and beauty
Destruction and Life.
Something so magnificent,
You can't even look at it.

My son, of fire and passion
Life, until death.
Something so magnificent,
You can't look away.

Maybe we don't look at the sun,
Because we are afraid that we
Might not be able to let go
Of the beauty, that might just end up,
Destroying us.
Compares true love and that which appears to be love, but will end up destroying you in the end.
Nathan Cross Dec 2014
Self destructive habits,
I'm broken, but I manage,
to destroy every foundation,
before it ever happens.

**-N.C.
We are proud individuals
who feed into bold lies
spoonfed like we're blind
through hands of our deceitful leaders
still they rise.

Technology is forever shoved in our face;
"hurry up n buy it!"
(before it reaches expiration date)
consuming gadgets at such a fast pace
may that be the devil
that determines our fait.

In the hands of the media we lay
side by side on a sinking ship they say
far, far and further away
we depart from real life
and sink into a screen of shame.

Our children can fake a smile
but their tears don't lie.
and though we let them remain on those sites
we sit, we sigh
and spin our glasses of wine
all the while wondering why we see them
with blubbering hearts and watery eyes.

Our elderly generation
worked all their life
hoping in their older years
that they could relax for a while.
Instead they have to sit there
with frail hands and ghostly smiles
overlooking us poison the planet
and see it turn cold and vile.

We drink until our heart is liquor
we love until our love turns bitter
our emptiness then begins to spread-
until on the inside we all go dead-
and it spreads quickly
and painfully
like the plague
and everyone is too far gone to save.

"Men are to be machines"
We say with a hand on their shoulder
as we push them out the door
off to a war
which will scar them so much so
that they won't want to live anymore.
And while not even a trace of a scar
sits on their skin,
the blood which seeps from their bleeding hearts
soaks and stains deep within.

Mass confusion;
we look to the sky
for the answers we need finding
within this cold society.
We disagree until we die
about matters of no relevance to you or I
but fury is the new joy
and may we fight until all is destroyed.

So many harsh whispers in the streets
so many expectations no one dares meet.
Some go insane
just to be the same
but just who is this madman
that we all aspire to be?
Does he have a name?
Has be ever been seen?

If now was your time to die
would you be happy
with the content of your life?
Or would you be regretful
that for the most part
you were entertaining society's lies.

If you're not happy with the way of human progression
then be the light in a sea of grey
and this horrible game of modern day
you will no longer play
and instead serve now to define
a new society.



Jazmine MacIntyre
12.05.2019
Inspired by 'Iron Sky' by Paolo Nutini.
sara Jun 2018
I'm transparent like a window
but I'm prone to keeping curtains closed
to cover up my youthful,
aching, naked soul.

I used to be promiscuous;
my essence on my sleeve.
a charming laugh; a crystal glass
from which many a fool drew drink.

A chalice of life;
warm like cinnamon wine,
soft like angel's delight.
Beheld by every eye.

But it never felt right;
I was smoke off a fire,
yet still smouldering coal.
Just a young, beautiful

byproduct of desire.
There's no smoke without fire.
Although, I tried to fan it cool;
the flames ran only wilder.

But as the old wind blows, it seems
a withered tree still grows new leaves.
A dandelion spreads its seeds
but they lie far away from me.

Now, I move transcluently-
ultraviolet invisible ink-
I speak in soothing whispers;
they travel further than you'd think.
Iridescence is things seemingly changing colour on their own- I think we all have the power to grow and move away from our pasts.

I love how fire is a destructive yet cleansing force.
King Panda Oct 2015
we had too much to drink and
you saw your mom crouched in
the corner smoking a
cigarette through her
neck hole

you missed with the marble
ashtray and shattered the mirror
with the hand-carved gold-leafed
frame

Melissa screamed

I followed as you tore through
puddles of sunken sidewalk
until you sat
at the bus stop and buried your
eyes

I put my hand on yours and
felt your raining pulse

we got on the bus with the
red and green stripes
hopped off at Wong’s and
bought 3 dozen eggs
to throw at the

lighthouse
Angelina Aug 2016
Right now, as we speak, there's a little boy, aged five
Pushed aside on the corner of his mat, where he naps
His fingers are clenched onto shredded crumbs of bread
He managed to get his hands on this morning despite his mother's constant nags
About having to save the last few bits for his new born sister  
Ashes and rubble are his best friends ever since he can remember
Disturbance aches him no more
For everything he's ever known are dents  
He wouldn't know what the other side of the rainbow looks like, let alone both
For he's never encountered a rainbow during his yelps of pain
Pressure, abundance of destruction, humiliation
His innocent weeps never reach aid
He is now used to it
No more room to present emotion
For everything he's encountered will forever be frozen in time
He wouldn't know what peace is, ever
For contrarily that would be foreign to him
Therefore, somewhere in this world, silence takes over
This little boy whose whole life has been built on lies and disruption
Butterflies turn to moths in the drapery of your stomach.
They spread,
And the feast begins on the fabric lining the masonry of your summit.

Your satin sheets,
The place you come to cradle dreams.
Who knew,
Were vulnerable to these wing'd beasts.
Missing an ending tbh.
S Apr 2018
I inject fire into my veins
I let it flow inside my blood
Until it burns my entirety
Into ashes of nothingness
Where to start
I don’t know where to begin
I don’t even know you
We’re not even friends
You’re a fantasy
That got carried away
As you sneak in my mind
And destruct my whole day
You’re a place
I just can’t find
Alone in an elevator
Don’t think that I’m blind
You’re an ocean
When I’m lost in your eyes
All the lust that I’m feeling
Makes me feel compromised
06/28/2017
D A W N Jun 2017
this global catastrophe,
happened when a group,
of people called society,
decided to do something,
beyond their sanity,
calling this massive destruction,
we made,
humanity.
you see,
these people who come,
from different varieties,
preaching from any type of equality,
knows nothing of the prophecy,
that's leading them into,
a catastrophe.
their heads stuck to their,
devices,
little did they know that the,
ice is,
melting.
don't you hear trees,
crying?
when our brutal machines cut them,
we're not even trying?
and yet we still believe,
society thinks,
brutality is somewhat,
less beyond our sanity,
making this world,
a global catastrophe.
made; this a year ago
the school held some poetry contest for each class about global warming so i decided to pitch in lol
Hartaz Kaur Jul 2018
An adrift mind when your gaze meets mine

Yes I see it,
Those stealthy glances when the wind caresses

Yes I see it,
There is something in you waiting to come out

Yes I see it,
The contemplation between back to chest or chest to chest

Yes I see it,
The constant struggle with ****** renunciation

Yes I see it,
Desire unsatisfied devours the desirer
Lizzy Jan 2015
When I found my sacred place, I was content in the fact I would be undisturbed. The open grounds of the church sprawled out in front me and I ran. Green lush trees of the Abbey surrounded me and I was lost in my mind. Not in the way where I was terrified of the thoughts, but in the way that I couldn’t help staring at the pictures in my head this landscape prompted. It was quiet, except for the frequent screams of murders of crows. I was quiet and content, then I found out it would all be gone.
elaine Aug 2018
you worked your way into my recently rebuilt heart like it was nothing. like i didn't spend hours and days mending it back together.

you set my heart on fire, leaving it in ashes. it pained me to look at this destruction, so i turned and walked away. leaving my broken heart behind, hoping i would never have to look back at it again. i walked away from everything, never stopping for anything.
i didn't stop myself from crying myself to sleep every night, even if i knew it was pathetic to cry over someone who changed in an instant.
i didn't stop myself from taking that blade and opening up old scars.
i don't stop myself from isolating myself or even pushing everyone i love away.

i can't heal my broken heart.  i can't heal this burning guilt inside and i can't fix this god awful world. and it pains me to say that i can't even fix myself so i have to say,
goodbye.
Born of Fire Jul 2014
And i miss you. You tore a rip clean around my heart. And after several months of ignoring me, the stitches i made could be taken out to reveal the nasty scars. The broken thing inside of me seemed to be breathing properly, and on your birthday you forgot who i was. A knife sliced through the scars, disrupting already damaged tissues. Never before had i remembered hate being a comfortable feeling. Hurt, ached inside of every cell. Birthdays seem to be a trap for us. You left me on mine. You forgot about me on yours. Another couple of months went by, you forgot about me even more. I tried to forget and move on. My hope failed me again. I stayed awake that night, until the sun rose on my sorrow. Funny how a sunrise can give you such a sinking feeling. I cried, hoping the tears would swell me to sleep, they just made the pain seep into my face and my collar bones. I thought about you that night, wondered if you were alone with your thoughts again, letting the back of your eyes rot with the white of the ceiling in your room. Or were you out in a darker place, getting high as your heart continued to suffocate? When they told me about what had really happened between you and them, everything connected. And unlike how i found out you had crawled back to her and she denied you made me happy, this only made things immensely worse. It was largely the fact that i gave you every part of me, salvaged all the small pieces and bundled them for you. You treated me like an object instead of human and i was too in love with you to realize it. But the thing is you can't walk around hurting people every chance you get. You asked her why she didn't care, well what about you? How could you dispose of me so quickly and in a rush as if you had committed a crime? For a time rage consumed me. Washed over me like running water. I wanted to tear you down and watch you disintegrate into a lake of sadness. Every other person in my life knew there was a million reasons for me to leave you. No one cared to save me. It showed me that no one is gonna be there when you're drowning in corrupted love. But i have always wanted to save you from the destruction coursing through your soul. I always wrote about burning the sentiments you gave me and collecting the ashes in a jar as a gift to you. And the twisted part of me figured that as much dust as i collect, equally would be your sorrow. I had only wished for you to stop breathing in so much dust. My mind seemed to go through a fluctuation between hate and misery. There was never an in between. I wished for you to stop cupping your hands to catch my tears so you could wash away your grief. When dejection turned into loathing you made me hurt other people. You lit matches for me to burn bridges and gave me a sledgehammer to destroy homes of happiness. Eventually the chaos got back to me and i ended up eroding myself. I convinced myself i was to put myself in danger to feel alive. Well the opposite occurred and i started dreaming about you. I dreamt of your smile, your laugh, your eyes, with an illuminating spark to them. Waking up was like realizing i had been buried alive in a small coffin, and I'm sure you don't remember how claustrophobic i am.  The fourth night dreaming about you, i turned into the living dead. I slowly melted into a shadow, still frames of you glued into the creases of my mind. Soon enough only wishes swept through my mind. I asked a god for some sort of baptism, and it never came and any form of faith diminished from my eyes. How could one person instill so much pain?
The adventures did change me. Not in the context i thought you meant.
Jade Dec 2018
The deepest scars come from words left unsaid,
Everything yearns for freedom.
Even words,
So the longer they're kept from it...
The heavier they weigh.
Do not underestimate
Their destruction.
12/8/2018
A poem about the weight of words.
Ma Cherie Sep 2017
it's hard to predict
the course of coming
destruction,
wide or narrow
I ponder the future path
as waters
will always find a way
my father said,
if she's angry in her wrath,

see the ones
that had never
breached their banks
that swell up
surging ***** water
fast within,
just a few brief minutes
before,
it comes
in such
high waters again,

all is flooded quickly

everything in sight,
then just...
g...o...n...e
all is just
gone without a fight,

yes including,
my dear old parents
sweet abode

in the terrible flood
of that ***** Irene

an if anyone had been there
that day at their home
they likely would have died
it's like nothing I have ever
really seen,

an today, as
the worst storm
in the history
of what we know
recorded,
is bearing down
on our lovely crying planet?

so I ask- what do you think
you can do
when the fire comes raging,
will you put it out or fan it?

I think,
to myself
I am seeing
many new animals
especially the birds,
rare ones,
insects and plants,
an some look just quite absurd
it is exciting but scary
but seriously different weather
well
i say why are you not wary?
becuz
if you don't believe
in climate change
or global warming
NOW?


well God please help us all.

Ma Cherie © 2017
Praying...;/
Ominous Aug 2015
Destruction looks like a statue
and i'm here
staring at it
with the eyes of a child
when they see a brand new toy
even when they own it already.
The Dybbuk Mar 2018
Night falls upon the sleepless one,
who stares deep into the void.
He cannot yet be overrun,
He shall not be destroyed.
On the precipice of the blank,
He has lost all hope.
The riverside with either bank,
But while on land he cannot cope,
And so the water engulfs him,
He is drowned but still he breathes.
Light without him is now fading,
But within him it still seethes.
Destruction lies upon the sleepless mind,
Until it pounces on the light, resigned.
Angelina Aug 2017
Life, in a mannerism, they proclaim
Is fragile, untouchable, limitless, rather a chain
Life, the folks sing, as delightful and indescribable as it is, is only here to stay

I do not know where, I do not know why
But thoughts mingling within my nerves apply
A paradox of significance within the definition
Of the purposeful journey we call life

Albeit the good, we choose to focus rather unwisely
Precisely of course, over delusional mastery
Understanding only comes in hand when necessary
When it threatens our existence, calling Bravery

You see, humans as smart as we are perceived to be
Might as well be a laughing stock to the rest of the scene
What we value, we fail to pursue, what we preach, we fail to reach

Would it hurt to let go of Prejudice?
An individual who has been imagined by generations beforehand, woven by bits of uncertainty and; well, where is he?

Hold on, here comes another
Violence and Destruction stand on the porch
Should we let them in? Should we not?
They are there, ready, ready anytime temptation hits now

Humanity degrades what she has created
Humiliates what she has achieved, and criticizes her dignity
Worth has lost its value, hence wonder
What have we done to help save her?

Sense has lost all contact
With wicked games being played, selfish pact
Response no longer yearns for Suffering
Such that, we deceive our own sect

Where is Understanding when we need her?
A few doors down the street, go ahead and wake her
She has not heard from us for a while now
Last time we spoke, I reckon, was when our own path was in danger
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