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Prosaic Sep 2011
Alone between these four walls
im in my world, but reality calls.
Dark thoughts constructed by my mind
disappearing my corpse- they will never find.
Travelling through the portal
- creatures non of my kind
yet i allow to be guided
by thee who is blind.
Still that world's being designed,
be aware of subconcience
because she wont resigne.
Fighting,scratching bleeding upon thy surface
engraving it more has no further purpose.
Beginning to realize,
it will all soon come to an end
your tormented mind,
with reality will blend.
Vadim Bravo May 2012
Across the wasteland children roam
Across the ashes and the foam
Across the parents and the friends.

Trough homes and houses children march
With ignorance and arogance
Across the parents and the friends.

Across the highways and the schools
And their immagination rules
Their thoughs their deeds, their parents and their
freinds.

And in the mind of a desert child
There lives a garden of flowers
And so, he pours the water on the sand.

Across the wasteland children roam
Roam with no reason - to see the world
And so, with morbid look they forward step.

With shining blinks inside their eyes
Walk past dead people - dying souls
The people who ignore a wasteland's child.

And in the mind of an urban child
There lives a legend of the wild
Somewhere between the ruins Deamon lives.

And so in the mind of every boy
There lives a world - a realm unknown
And when we dont believe he runs away

Off to his own world with a sword
Across the wasteland with a word
Of "please",  and tears he hides.

Across the wasteland children ran
Away from ruins and we cant cant
To bring him into world of ours.

So listen parents and the friends
Dont **** those worlds, dont bring the end
Upon the children who the wasteland roam.
J. W. Jan 2010
Maybe i am the tainted dust that settles beneath
that infinite evening sky, and
Perhaps i am the winter ground that lay hard
Between the living and the dead
Could i be the orange sands that stretch
outwards into a vast sea of fire
Is it possible these arms, hands and legs
are all fabrics of immagination
If i, Myself am this mighty tree reaching outside
itself, high above those lofty branches
Am i then in need?

I can not live forever, and i am surely
no God or prophet

The barelys gold fingertips brush inder mine
I am transformed, Transfigured, movement
occurs in realms i am not to concieve
Simple nature leads me from my flesh, it
Carries me adrift in its vaporous arms
I am unobserved above my form
If nature were to set its motions suddenly against me
dropping me back into a skin prison
if i were to offend with empty phrases
and a crazed loose sword lunging forth between teeth
Would she ever take me back under her intangible wing?

Time beyond us and time before us
As though we were ghosts, beginning at an end
And ending at a beginning, we posses elusive forms
Where within oneself life i hidden, waiting
To burst forth into some bright and glorious day
It is of too little significance to a world
A world such as this, that i should die
And soon become less, and soon become more

Dream more? what substance lay between bone walls?
Live less? Being, Thinking and doing is all you really have
Chose life, life for a penny, for a song, life outside hands
Just out of reach

Simply musing
time spent, time worth losing
These are lifes finalized ending distractions
Uncountable introspective golden reflections
And so if my soul be carted away tonight
I end with love, with life and joy
So much as to being with an end.
Tristan Claude Oct 2012
She was a shipping yard,
Covered in snow and ice,
Her words broke apart in many ideas,
They shattered and fell,
To a ground of many pieces,
Cold waters and cold stares,
They kept her up and they kept insomnia,
As if upon a leash of little length,
Ideas and misplaces sentences grouped together,
They formed dreams that made her and,
The victims of her social stories, wonder,
Wonder and wander of a cause for such immagination,
Her boats, her ships, her plans of improvement,
They all seemed to bend with the test of time,
A spent and splendid, waiting and living,
Living for the fresh breaths that come with stale sea air,
Waiting for another foreign hello, and a local hello,
Sending thoughts, and sending gifts, all with a certain,
Very curious price, a file in a folder, she waited,
Tedious excitement and the glowing eyes of everyone else,
The smiles and the nods, as she went on her way,
She was a way from here to there,
And she was happy with her seas, her sometimes snow, and her sometimes ice.
enter these bewitched place you who dare tones of eye bells fall on you and your only rescue is your immagination which you can avoid fromm catching up with you
Struggling Pen May 2018
There you are standing by the window
Hands inside your pockets
You are staring outside
Contemplating...

I called your name
But you seem so preoccupied
You keep staring outside
As if mesmerize by the falling autumn leaves

I called you again
This time more louder
Hoping you will hear
Hoping it will penetrate thru your thoughts
Again...you never hear my voice

I stare at your back
Yes it is you standing there
Within my reach
But why can't you hear me?

Soft winds blow ruffling the curtains
A bit of a cold air touched my arms
Hugging myself I look at the mirror across me
I look someone who just woke up from sleep
Hair tussled
Eyes still half close.

I turn back towards the window
Now it's empty
You are gone
In a moment you escape me.

Were you just an illusion?
A figment of my immagination?
A wishful thinking...
My heart's longing.

I realize it's hallucination
That keeps on popping every now and then
Not even a dream where I can stay asleep and prolong the moment
No, it is hallucination
Sadly, so fleeting...
Leaving emptiness within as I sigh
Uttering your name in a whisper.
Tony Anderson Apr 2019
Come sail away
To a land of pure immagination
Come sail away
To a land of your heart's desire

All is possible
All is true
Within this land
Nothinf is old
Everything new

No one grows old
No aches
No pain
Sadness is gone
No tears falling like rain

Your fondest wish comes true
Before the words even exsit your mouth
Puff
right there in front of you

So come sail away
Come along with me
Come sail away
Be forever free
Struggling Pen May 2018
I look at your picture
Seeing the young man you once had been
In my mind I am grasping those moments
But sadly they were vague.
These pictures were precious
They were you and me once
In a time where you and I mattered
A place that is now nowhere to be found

I am a little bit sad
Were these moments once a reality?
Or a figment of my immagination
How can I forget?
How can time erase?
How can my mind not remember?
There you are
Captured in time
There was me captured in the same place
With you
Smiling
Happy

I look at your picture
Once again you escape my mind
The feelings were fleeting
So vague
So far out of reach
I sigh
I felt sad
For you became
A forgotten memory.
Sara Brummer Sep 2020
I long…..
for the night’s youngest moon
when light’s palpitations stroke
immagination.

I long…..
for the gigantic, silent sky,
for dusk’s long erasure into
planet ink.

I long….
To have my eyes filled with stars,
to reveal the hidden image of
our essence where soft words
flow like dew…
And the journey to the end
of rhyme with love passing through.

I long…
for the hidden desire
of the dove’s coo, the nights
of lilac when our bodies,
like heaven and earth, embraced.

Thief of the dark, please come gently
to take your shadow’s nakedness.
There is time enough for tomorrow.

— The End —