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The wolf scurries at night to howl at the moon
In his eyes, a gun thats broken and won´t stop shooting
As loneliness stands by

It beats twice

The carousel is broken and it swings like a child on a sing
Like meloncoly playing with regret
The silouhettes and shadows come to life, They wander through the halls

Empty, emprisoned

It beats ten times

A drop falls in an endless sea and wrinkles the sands of time
Desperation watches and love walks away

It beats fifteen times

The flock of crows organize a mutanity against silence
And peace is defeated

It beats thirty-six times

Anger has a whiskey and pasion tries to ****** him
The piano man sings with his beautiful notes and lust comittes suicide
Hope leaves the bar, and acompanies loneliness as he stands by to watch
A wolf scurry to howl at the moon

It Beats One Time

Becuase only one time is necesary
Trapped into you for years now
Emprisoned in a series of apparitions and disparitions only fate can forecast
Set me free, set me free
But it shall never be!
Encaged peacock me.
IlsuonomeèKate Nov 2018
We both are not destined
Maybe we're not compatible
I am emprisoned in my heart
And you have your freedom

You want that? I dont want it
Go with them? Go with me
Be with them? Better be with me
You're free? I'll suffocate you

The truth is, I am lonely
An insecured *******
In my world, on our world
I only want you and me

Sorry for I am a coward
Fear of fighting and risking
For when I commit myself
I mean commiting my life to you
If I have the courage, will you be there?
NiTSUDD Feb 2017
Enlightened am I?
Si senior!
Lightbeams from umaginitive rhelms shoot down from the desperate heavens
Peircing
Penetrating
Conquering my mortality
Not deceased, just...
Asleep from the slave of me.
The sculptured emprisoned spirit within finally basks in the unruptured blissful state of this lucid life.
...
Its gone.
You're gone.
Chris Jun 2019
too full of life to be half-loved.
who could deny that i have loved?
deeply without holding back,
constantly trying not to slack.
i have loved with and without words.
can't be loved at all if it's done half way.
i want to feel that you care and love with no reserve,
and that you gently curse my trust issues when they occur.

too full of life to be half-loved.
too many scenarios in my head,
too many times have i lost you
in my head..
but do tell...
am i being paranoid or just learning from experiences?
tired of things turning out less than i felt
when things hit you from all sides.
tired of hearing it, just want to feel it.
i want to feel that i can trust.
unless i can, all efforts towards gaining my trust are lost.

too full of life to be half-loved,
too full of light to be enclosed
in uncertainty.
too free for life to be hand-cuffed,
emprisoned by your affinities.
affinities that only you describe as love,
but i can see...
i can see what you might see in me:
smart? mature? calm?
i get it..
i also entered love by that same door.
i almost deterred my hidden insecurities
then turned my back on love through that same door.
i always want more.
maybe love isn't what i'm looking for,
maybe for this feeling i have different meanings.
like save me from my own dirt,
like always put me first,
like i do what i want and you can't,
like why don't i wear the pants?
for sure..
i go from hating to loving in the same year
so i'm not even sure.
indecisive, manipulative and self love is my only cure.

too full of life to not self-love.
who fooled me into thinking i can't be loved?
there's nothing you can give me that i can't offer myself.
no doctor than myself to heal my mental health.
no brag, no thinking i'm all that
baby i'm all that and more.
doesn't mean i can't love, but i love myself more.
musn't mean i can't have you and a little more
...
Tyler Aug 2022
there beauty and splendor in the
confidence artists
working their way through
the chaos of nights.

housing flowers in shadowy
gardens gleefully whispering chuckles
at the starving growth
in meaninglessness
of its hope through
emprisoned reality.

the withered rose is as crunchy
and poisonous as stone,
but some have grown a fine taste
for dirt.

— The End —