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"enchants" poems
The belated summer sky is alive with a  D r a g o n f l y ballet Beneath,.. the rain parched sod lay sullied, cracked open by an unsated thirstiness awaiting the painted autumn days and the cleansing rain's renewal A lace-winged hatch rises skyward — meandering  airborne — drifting upwards like a burst of dust dissipating in an invisible cloud of eventide's silent breath Darting shadows hover above a seeker's curiosity     just this side the   softening sunset backdrop A synthesis of fluid motion   – darting kinesis –     swift agile fliers steal away over the thirsty pond; their mesmerizing beauty enchants as the dimming dusk falls silent —- embellishing the unrelenting ending    another summer's  imminent curtain call; reminding how inexorable-time is only a contrived human notion, a recurring extrapolation   of passing  seasons Heightening awareness: how we too are only passing through these unholdable moments    coming to know     we cannot stop    how life unfolds The raindrops will quench the pond's aching thirst again one fall someday...   — hereafter — there will be another beauty of dragonflies some other eyes will see preying on another burgeoning gossamer-winged hatch           and another beckoning autumn when the dragonflies hover below the gazing totems      in the treetops Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018                                                 .
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Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
Ballerinas in the Waning Summer Sky
The belated summer sky is alive with a  D r a g o n f l y ballet Beneath,.. the rain parched sod lay sullied, cracked open by an unsated thirstiness awaiting the painted autumn days and the cleansing rain's renewal A lace-winged hatch rises skyward — meandering  airborne — drifting upwards like a burst of dust dissipating in an invisible cloud of eventide's silent breath Darting shadows hover above a seeker's curiosity     just this side the   softening sunset backdrop A synthesis of fluid motion   – darting kinesis –     swift agile fliers steal away over the thirsty pond; their mesmerizing beauty enchants as the dimming dusk falls silent —- embellishing the unrelenting ending    another summer's  imminent curtain call; reminding how inexorable-time is only a contrived human notion, a recurring extrapolation   of passing  seasons Heightening awareness: how we too are only passing through these unholdable moments    coming to know     we cannot stop    how life unfolds The raindrops will quench the pond's aching thirst again one fall someday...   — hereafter — there will be another beauty of dragonflies some other eyes will see preying on another burgeoning gossamer-winged hatch           and another beckoning autumn when the dragonflies hover below the gazing totems      in the treetops Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018                                                 .
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51
I bow to Lotus Feet, which gives me eternal peace I am incomplete without your compassion you healed my heart when it was thrown and shattered you picked me up when I struggled to get through you gave me hope when it seemed so out of reach I am nothing without you Where ever I go, found not alone your glorious touch was always with me Nectar drop of Gita, feels presents of yours O! my Lord Krishna show me the light on my path your Flute stirs the Universal Consciousness And Gita enchants the Transcendental Consciousness O! Lord of the whole Universe, Omnipotent Master of all Grant me a glimpse of Thyself,Be pleased to come and live inside me                                          -----------------------------------: :--------------------------------- By : Karunakar Saroj (In the love of Lord Krishna) “hare krishna hare krishna krishna krishna hare hare hare rama hare rama rama rama hare hare”
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
**O! MY LORD KRISHNA**
I love to watch you play Hear the sweet notes drift out of your saxophone A lovely melody You don't always see me I listen all the same Such lovely skill escaping in the form of sound coming out of that wonderful saxophone Maybe it's not the sound That enchants me so But the handsome player Whom I get to call my own My gorgeous love   Smart and talented to the end <3
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Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
My Saxophone Player
I last saw her in Santiago ******* drunkenly in a Sub urban taverna parading conceited pride in a twisted union with that ********  heinous maniacal harlequin each in vainglorious throes of their imagined septic mindfuck Debauch celebration of collaboration of succubus and incubus Some days she is saying Haloa in Hawaii adorned as Sainti Maria the ***** now as Madonna spewing words like a dove acting like a Nun in a Convent the fiendess with two faces hiding her ****** like the ace in lace the malignant serpent crawling in the duality of her neurosis I last saw her in Santiago In a sanctity of the poisoned insecures with exiguous minds consumed with flaming fears she begs acceptance for inclusion ******* for percieved reflected glory from her fathers' jailers The subjugated souls of chai wallah lives on in grandchildren So when Santi Maria flirts from honey to beehive Ready to ***** and part thighs and brain for minor pointing gun Feel sorry for a damaged child devoid of a prime core never made only obeisance to past rulers whose discarded cast-offs she wears Her poems  enchants but its virulent tools she takes in her body I last saw her in Santiago A slaved two-faced pretender who sings like a nightingale In sub urban dives she postrates to friendly pats and gropes Melting creeps and hot tigers begging subs for a heady drink Brilliant yet blindsided to **** on knees as her children will too Copyright@LaurenceA20thSept2018Allrightsreserved.
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Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 9:03 PM UTC
I Call Her Santiago.....
1466 One of the ones that Midas touched Who failed to touch us all Was that confiding Prodigal The reeling Oriole— So drunk he disavows it With badinage divine— So dazzling we mistake him For an alighting Mine— A Pleader—a Dissembler— An Epicure—a Thief— Betimes an Oratorio— An Ecstasy in chief— The Jesuit of Orchards He cheats as he enchants Of an entire Attar For his decamping wants— The splendor of a Burmah The Meteor of Birds, Departing like a Pageant Of Ballads and of Bards— I never thought that Jason sought For any Golden Fleece But then I am a rural man With thoughts that make for Peace— But if there were a Jason, Tradition bear with me Behold his lost Aggrandizement Upon the Apple Tree—
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One of the ones that Midas touched
*Its starts with such a beautiful note That enchants you in, listing to more The chords flow with such passion Such hope for the future Till you reach the diminished That throws the whole song down to hell From light and hope To dark and sin This song of life has changed in ways I never saw coming The tune grows darker The volume become louder The chords harsher But then it stops And one single note changes it back to the light The hardness of the chords soften The volume begins to calm And the tune once more flows through my soul This is the song of life And then it finishes Leaving you with the experience of music... The experience of life...*
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 2:01 AM UTC
The song of life
music. there is no description for it i could spend endless amounts of time 
thinking of every word that fits it
 but the only one that fits,for me is 
alive.

 music makes me feel alive. 

bass pounding, words screaming
 i wish i could dance all day and all night 
the music urges me, it tells me
to sing as loud as i can and 
dance as hard as i can
soft guitar, voices whispering 
the voices penetrate my mind 
the rhythm and melody raise goosebumps 
tears in my eyes. from pain? happiness?
 i don't even care.

 I lose myself.
 when music is on, I am gone. 
I have left this world and entered
another one. a better one. 
a world full of endless love and beauty 
in this world, anything is possible 
and I have a voice that angels would be jealous of
 in this world, my dance enchants every person for miles 
in this world, I dance on top of clouds

 without music, there is no world 
it is empty, dark and
 i am lost
 instead of color, it is merely 
black and white
 there are few memories made 
no singing with windows down 
no dancing with hairbrush in hand
 no songs to sing every word to 
without music, there is no feeling
 of being alive
 no feeling of anger, sadness, and complete
 bliss.


 music is my soulmate.
 my one true love 
and we are going to live a long
 and happy life together.
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 3:11 PM UTC
My SoulMate
You have the beauty That enflames the heart And enchants the soul Within, don't hide it Society's standards Are ridiculous The media's portrayal Of what beauty is biased We spend out of our means To wear such and such labels Wear pounds of make-up, Starve ourselves, Because who we look in The mirror is not what We see on tv? What is beauty? Is it the texture of my hair? Is it the hue of my skin? Is it my ethnicity? Is it my weight? What is beauty? Black is beautiful White is beautiful Hispanic is beautiful Asian is beautiful Bi/multi racial is beautiful You're beautiful We're beautiful We don't need society's Validation No, we don't need to Be deemed perfect by society In actual fact, it's standards Are unatainable So why do we strive for Something we know is Only an illusion? Do we realize the impact That media has in shaping The way the millennium Generation Thinks, and behaves? We demand change, But we're the same people Tuning in to the same Shows that we protest about We've become so engulfed In the world of entertainment That the word has lost Meaning itself Heck, I'm 18 I'm guilty of this too Entertainment is no longer Just that- it's crotch grabbing, Glorified drug, alcohol abuse And yet, we wonder why Majority of My generation has no substance, No depth, and no layers We no longer aspire to be The Obamas, the Ghandis, The Mandelas and so on No! That has long passed The 'American Dream' has Become Kim Kardashian And Kanye West In all honesty, We are our surroundings You want change? Let's stop watching reality tv Maybe then these networks Will stop producing more trash Let's instill morals In our children And help them discover The fire that burns inside Them, the beauty within
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Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 4:59 AM UTC
Millenium Generation
You have the beauty That enflames the heart And enchants the soul Within, don't hide it Society's standards Are ridiculous The media's portrayal Of what beauty is biased We spend out of our means To wear such and such labels Wear pounds of make-up, Starve ourselves, Because who we look in The mirror is not what We see on tv? What is beauty? Is it the texture of my hair? Is it the hue of my skin? Is it my ethnicity? Is it my weight? What is beauty? Black is beautiful White is beautiful Hispanic is beautiful Asian is beautiful Bi/multi racial is beautiful You're beautiful We're beautiful We don't need society's Validation No, we don't need to Be deemed perfect by society In actual fact, it's standards Are unatainable So why do we strive for Something we know is Only an illusion? Do we realize the impact That media has in shaping The way the millennium Generation Thinks, and behaves? We demand change, But we're the same people Tuning in to the same Shows that we protest about We've become so engulfed In the world of entertainment That the word has lost Meaning itself Heck, I'm 18 I'm guilty of this too Entertainment is no longer Just that- it's crotch grabbing, Glorified drug, alcohol abuse And yet, we wonder why Majority of My generation has no substance, No depth, and no layers We no longer aspire to be The Obamas, the Ghandis, The Mandelas and so on No! That has long passed The 'American Dream' has Become Kim Kardashian And Kanye West In all honesty, We are our surroundings You want change? Let's stop watching reality tv Maybe then these networks Will stop producing more trash Let's instill morals In our children And help them discover The fire that burns inside Them, the beauty within
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There's a time, somewhere between 12am and 6am, When all artistic, damaged or insomniatic souls Feel like they're completely alone Even though we're all awake and feeling the same thing. 12am is still too loud, still too car engines and shouting, And 6am is too light, too exposing and awake, aware. It's blackness but for the starlight puncturing holes in the sky, That's when the magic arises and enchants us. The way the moon looks at us and begs us to untrouble our weary hearts, So we do it, and we do it willingly. She is the most unfaithful lover, and it is beautiful. How she cherishes each whispered secret so deeply That it leaves a crater on her being. How she takes on our pain unflinchingly, And only needs 28 days to feel whole again. There's a time, somewhere between 12am and 6am, When the most trapped souls can feel such freedom.
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Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 1:43 PM UTC
Nocturnal Whisperings
Conjurer of spells, I stir phrases in a witch's cauldron..... wizard's breath to tint the potion Let it boil over Reduce the excess add emotion and a four leaf clover Temperature at serving time defines the tone and type of incantation Cold spells work as heartless breaths Warm ones jubilation Hotter brew brings swift results Careful even death My sorcery is well disguised as poetry and song.   I'll have you laugh, yank a tear or make a day feel twice as long. I'll look you in the eye as I feed you all my truths and lies None can break the grip of words I wield, won't know to even try Warlock...my voice enchants let me whisper in your ear You'll result bewitched.... but if I hold you high ..... there's never need to fear
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Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 3:07 PM UTC
Sorcerer of Words
Poison in your lips, Soft yet evil. It conquers my soul. Poison in your touch, Yet hidden by your romance. I am hexed, By your masked love. The poison, It enchants. The purest of souls...
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Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
You are Poison
your camouflage is spotless, babe i want to reveal your inner it's difficult to find you, babe you revealed my inner last night we are apart from each other although we're sharing the same dreams green ideas, arrival's smile real laughter and toxic strangers how can i find you between 'em? how will i know that it's you then? in the middle of my middle eight syllables, i count on you you're my lady but you're hidden among buildings, streets and people between the glimpses of despair somewhen, never, always somewhere the rouge of your bloodstream enchants my wishes, longing, desire in the moment of the key-night we'll stand before our door, baby maybe i've found you already maybe you are my wife, baby maybe you are my wife, baby maybe i've found you already
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Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 7:08 AM UTC
To The Mysterious Lady
Once I lov'd a bonie lass, Ay, and I love her still; And whilst that virtue warms my breast, I'll love my handsome Nell. As bonie lasses I hae seen, And mony full as braw; But, for a modest gracefu' mein, The like I never saw. A bonie lass, I will confess, Is pleasant to the e'e; But, without some better qualities, She's no a lass for me. But Nelly's looks are blythe and sweet, And what is best of a', Her reputation is complete, And fair without a flaw. She dresses aye sae clean and neat, Both decent and genteel; And then there's something in her gait Gars ony dress look weel. A gaudy dress and gentle air May slightly touch the heart; But it's innocence and modesty That polishes the dart. 'Tis this in Nelly pleases me, 'Tis this enchants my soul; For absolutely in my breast She reigns without control.
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:58 AM UTC
Handsome Nell (Robert Burns)
THE MUSIC OF THE STARS Today the night sky shines bright As though to mock the moon That each eventide arises Taking the mantle from the sun All united in an assignment To light the way for earthly treaders The radiant stars endlessly move Age to age whispering its great adventures Tis music of the stars Singing of the past,present and future Singing of a long past left in traces of unwritten history Singing of the presence experienced by the audience Singing of a future concelead to mortal eyes Tis the music of the stars The inaudible lyrics of the stars That need no lute nor lyre To sooth the listeners' heart The grace of the 'heavenly singers' Like a spell enchants the audience Its glory inspires the astronomer Its music moves the poets hand Tis the music of the stars Singing to the 'deaf' mortal Singing how like a porcelain his life is brittle Singing how his life is brief at its best Tis the music of the stars The music of the stars : Tis a melody that wanes Like a script come to an end Tis a rhythm that diminishes The beats slowed by the dawning day Tis a harmony that disaccords Like a string broken from the harp Tis the music of the stars Singing comfort to the lonely seafarer Singing hope to the night pilgrim Singing praises to the night watcher The 'night singers' leave the stage The morning stars echoes the refrain Tis the music of the stars.
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May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 2:24 AM UTC
Music of the stars
We move through the night, though the streets seem empty, we look left and right, electric vehicles are stealthy. As we exercise stepwise, sunrise happens. and black night fades its cover. Like phoresy, painted, pieces of heaven, the day opens with primary colors— reds that delight, oranges that tease and peacocking yellows that leaven. As the counterfeit rainbow enchants and rouses, streetlights waver and douse, lights flicker on in houses, and the earth blossoms active in borrowed hues. Morning twinkles with its particular, angular light, as we enter the still still lobby. They’ve already set out the coffee! With a sip, I feel the morning's started right. . . Songs for this: Day Tripper by MonaLisa Twins Our Day Will Come by Amy Winehouse
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Jun 8, 2025
Jun 8, 2025 at 12:05 PM UTC
right
673 The Love a Life can show Below Is but a filament, I know, Of that diviner thing That faints upon the face of Noon— And smites the Tinder in the Sun— And hinders Gabriel’s Wing— ’Tis this—in Music—hints and sways— And far abroad on Summer days— Distils uncertain pain— ’Tis this enamors in the East— And tints the Transit in the West With harrowing Iodine— ’Tis this—invites—appalls—endows— Flits—glimmers—proves—dissolves— Returns—suggests—convicts—enchants— Then—flings in Paradise—
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The Love a Life can show Below
The silence surrounds me. The tranquility envelopes me. The serenity enchants me. This is where I am free, Able to be me, Without any pretense.
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
In the Woods
A bright rush of sensation Sets my heart astir I wallow in fond feelings Of Euphoria Passion cascades through me Electricity's commute From the body to the brain Its aura I salute Euphoria is transcendent Knocks me flying sideways I bask in it resplendent For one touch, my heart ablaze She captures and enchants me I'm bursting bright with glee I wonder, mind asunder How I share this mood with thee
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Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 4:48 AM UTC
Euphoria
She giggles like a baby And dances like an excited child, Twirling amongst the wind and rain with no coordination. Her smile is quiet and often, I never really thought about how much I love teeth until I looked at how cute hers were, Her canines sharp and ready to bite at my ear. The waist on that girl is about the size of my neck, Maybe smaller. I wouldn't doubt it. Pale milk in the moonlight is no whiter than her skin, But it is not nearly as luminescent and ethereal. Her freckled narrow nose shows how much she is in the sun. She will run around, having kid's fun, until millennia go by. Her ears poke out of her hair sometimes, Showing themselves just to make me smile. And her locks are thick, unlike her thighs. Her hips are so wide and fluid, But she does not worry of them. Her only worry in the world is of her music. Her multichrome eyes are canyons filled with amusement, joy and love, And they are framed by long elegant eyelashes that tickle my own when she kisses me. Her hands, ever so small but broken, rush around, messing with whatever there is to be played with. And her tongue intrigues me as much as it enchants me. One flick of it, and I'm melted in her hands. Her body is what I'd imagine heaven's angels to appear as, Bright. Playful. Perfect.
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Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 6:37 AM UTC
No One Ever Could Live As You
My emotional compass is losing its gravitational pull ... At times the direction dies still. At other times, it spins madly.  I feel like I'm being crushed between two walls and drowned within thunder-clapping waves. Yet, on the surface of my ocean, the glass waters reflect a serene, tranquil light of the full moon hugging its night sky.    I'm uncertain. I’m indecisive. I run away to the farthest, darkest corner of the forest. I also flee to the highest peaks and hide under sunlight.  I'm not fearful of destruction. I'm fearful of being destructive. I tend to destruct myself by destructing the souls I cherish most. Nightmares of finding myself in abandoned emptiness haunt me. I fear being left, so I walk away. I fear being loved deeply, so I push them away. And this ... this is where I become destructive.  I say I’m seeking peaceful stability, when truthfully...? My soul is gushing across the ends of the earth all at once. Maybe I find peace in the chaos. Maybe I just feed on chaos.  I throw my soul into the deepest wells of love. I find myself abruptly climbing back to the surface, clawing my way up those walls. And just as I nearly reach the top, I intentionally let go of myself only to fall back in. The record breaks on replay.  I gather myself, set the records straight then let them role into chaos once more. Once More replays itself endlessly through the space and time of my existence, and my life turns into a repetition of these "once more" chaotic events. Secret be told, I think I enjoy all of this. All so exciting and lively at that moment. Alas, dreadful at points of reality checks. Lifeless at the destination.  So…? I gather myself and set the records straight again ...  once more ... once more, again ... and again ...  Helpless. But wild.  Wild. But easily tamed.  Tamed. But cannot be owned.  Gently handle my being. I'm too stubborn ... Even with my own self. Yet, I also feel ever so delicate and fragile. I can easily break at my own grip. I’ll tell you how …  It's all in the simplicities - which can also turn into complexities - found in the sun’s golden hour. Yellow rays against my skin. Illuminated dust particles dancing through my fingers. A warm whisper. That bold dive. Grab me by the extremes.  Right now .. I think I’m coming up with a case of the blues.  So, come … Dip me not in the rainbow, but in the *** of gold at the far end.  Take me all the way ... The noise, it enchants me.  Be still my heart, it’s him … Chaos.
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Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 1:20 PM UTC
Confessions: Once More
My emotional compass is losing its gravitational pull ... At times the direction dies still. At other times, it spins madly.  I feel like I'm being crushed between two walls and drowned within thunder-clapping waves. Yet, on the surface of my ocean, the glass waters reflect a serene, tranquil light of the full moon hugging its night sky.    I'm uncertain. I’m indecisive. I run away to the farthest, darkest corner of the forest. I also flee to the highest peaks and hide under sunlight.  I'm not fearful of destruction. I'm fearful of being destructive. I tend to destruct myself by destructing the souls I cherish most. Nightmares of finding myself in abandoned emptiness haunt me. I fear being left, so I walk away. I fear being loved deeply, so I push them away. And this ... this is where I become destructive.  I say I’m seeking peaceful stability, when truthfully...? My soul is gushing across the ends of the earth all at once. Maybe I find peace in the chaos. Maybe I just feed on chaos.  I throw my soul into the deepest wells of love. I find myself abruptly climbing back to the surface, clawing my way up those walls. And just as I nearly reach the top, I intentionally let go of myself only to fall back in. The record breaks on replay.  I gather myself, set the records straight then let them role into chaos once more. Once More replays itself endlessly through the space and time of my existence, and my life turns into a repetition of these "once more" chaotic events. Secret be told, I think I enjoy all of this. All so exciting and lively at that moment. Alas, dreadful at points of reality checks. Lifeless at the destination.  So…? I gather myself and set the records straight again ...  once more ... once more, again ... and again ...  Helpless. But wild.  Wild. But easily tamed.  Tamed. But cannot be owned.  Gently handle my being. I'm too stubborn ... Even with my own self. Yet, I also feel ever so delicate and fragile. I can easily break at my own grip. I’ll tell you how …  It's all in the simplicities - which can also turn into complexities - found in the sun’s golden hour. Yellow rays against my skin. Illuminated dust particles dancing through my fingers. A warm whisper. That bold dive. Grab me by the extremes.  Right now .. I think I’m coming up with a case of the blues.  So, come … Dip me not in the rainbow, but in the *** of gold at the far end.  Take me all the way ... The noise, it enchants me.  Be still my heart, it’s him … Chaos.
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There's nothing beyond the world you sculpt, a bed of roses, drenched in lies, prepped by knives. So carefully shaped, so carelessly grown. Every nook and crevice, give me motivation, I'll tear it all apart, irreparable, a ****** mess, a catalyst that'll spark your destruction and set that mind ablaze. Fragile and weak, the human crawls, in seek of help, only when it all crumbles. In bliss, in safety of their cocoon, they rejoice, a fool, not a thought, not a mind, a pity indeed. It could've all grown so well, bloom fully in spring, and emit a fragrance that enchants unlike any other, but you forget, of the thorns you grew, and I'll use them all, let you have a taste, of the tangy sweetness, of the world you've built.
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Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 8:25 AM UTC
The Florist.
The nights are long and cold, I only see you once or twice. Still, my heart is not satisfied not content of just the beauty, it desires more than a silhouette that my mind shapes of you when I close my eyes at night. The stars do not shine bright not enough to image your eyes and never enough to satisfy; my darkest secrets of you hold it’s place in dark skies where words are not heard and lust is at its highest peak. Your voice enchants my heart and vibrates through my soul, only if I can feel your touch it would feel like the sun caressing my cold body, and only the warmth of you can keep me whole.
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
Midnight Crush
The depth of your eyes, makes me lose my mind that inspires to leave everything behind. It enchants me and makes me jump into the ocean that knows no emotion. I imagine you tracing my face, each time that I feel the wind, Yes with imagination I have sinned. I wish there was a way to end my sorrow, my best bet is on having no tomorrow. But today, yet again am in pain, I've been tied to the past and that's turning me insane. You deserve to be together forever,  with someone that you treasure. My dream has had its fulfilment, It was brilliant, but I know I don't deserve your commitment. Live Long and Prosper, oh "Love of My Life", I know I can never apologize, But will I still get to look into your eyes?
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Jan 23, 2023
Jan 23, 2023 at 10:07 PM UTC
Confession of Depression