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PrttyBrd May 2010
The howling dog does more than bey at moons
He heralds nightmares calling in the dark
It seems that shadows heighten canine fears
For silence only takes control at noon
Sleep deprived, the sun is way too happy
Slumber awaits beyond the bedroom door
With closing eyes, the dreams begin their show
Flowers dancing, and cherubs watch from clouds
Gnawing, gnashing, gruesome scenes awaken
Barking howling doggies never sleeping
Closing eyes flash red in remembrance
A blind date's couch can offer a reprieve
In return there are no expectations
After lunch no future plans are made
Left longing for peaceful slumber at home
Trade with darkness, looking rather cozy
The Devil's beasts have conquered one more soul
Blank Verse
52810
Poetic T Feb 2015
Little one* do you see them,
Do you see the light,
Can you twist it to the spectrum
Will you choose
Darkness,
Light,
Play as you must,
Will you be a friend
Or twist their limbs to control
As a puppet, as a toy if you must.
They are weakness,
They are flesh,
They are unlike us.
We are of energy, not the weakness
Of flesh, so timid, easily controlled
By the ones of us,
They don't realise that we walk
Upon this plain, there is more
To this rock than
Flesh,
Energy,
Old,
Ones roam unseen by even us,
This is a plain of existence
A field of many flowers that bloom,
Not everyone is seen, their scent, smelt
Upon each breath, we share this
Moment,
Time,
Existence
As the same eternity we do share,
Play in the fields of flesh,
Try these suits on, have a joyous time,
They wear thin fast,
Damaged by our energy
Coherent memory,
Never forgetting that corruption
Of a life time lasted,
We are the moment sensed
Our presents always lingers past.
Little one choose what you wish
But upon the flesh, the soul
Corroded until we are all that is left,
Careful with these toys, they are fragile
They easily break,
Don't let the moment pass, let the senses
Taste many before they forever erode to **dust.
Adriean New Aug 2014
Don't you hear the sound of my voice
that I'm tired.
The voices in your head tell me to
stop but all I do is run.
Im tired.
I want to stop
& walk
& talk about the pain
in our hearts because I
assure you're not alone.
Rescue me from the deep trench
Ive sunk myself into.
I dug myself into to.
dravenstorm Jul 2015
Hold My Hand
Tight,
Sit On
This Tree
With Me,
And We'll
Watch Metors
Filled With
Immortality
Powers
Fall Underneath
Our Sunkissed
Lips
Stalinizing
Our Exsitence
Of Being
Human.
Sara Brummer Jan 2021
News bursts from the media like
a ****** of crows smelling blood :
war, homelessness, racial tension,
we drown in a hurricane of bad news –
a thick growth of ugly impressions
like warts on the bark of an old tree.

Whoever invented this code
of exsitence, please don’t block
the light forever or let us become
estranged from tenderness,
made victims of virtual violence.

Give us back the season
we long for,caressed by
strokes of sunlight,
the precise and unexpected
beauty of a flower growing
among stones. From time
to time, give us a rainbow.

— The End —