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Ajit Saigal Jun 2018
I want to hold my head up high
I want to fly till I touch the sky
I want to make my angel smile.

Days will be hard and nights cooler
Life won’t draw your card any more
The storm outside would rage on & on
Yet your music would raise me strong.

The wounds keep bleeding
The tears keep falling
I may not matter any longer
But I promise to not let them monger.

Nothing can glimmer your dazzling light
Believe me, you can scale pristine heights
You are the brightest star ever
Just let it shine sharp and clear.

Keep smiling
Remain happy
Brighten up my Angel of Joy
You will always be my Phantom of Delight.
This was written for my little daughter whom I hadn't met for 6 long years.
My last memory of her flashed & paused,
at me kissing her tiny forehead,
she was just 1 month old then, sleeping peacefully on her mom's lap,
cuddled within caring silken arms.
Please* don't misunderstand me
I know this had to be done, things
were growing more rotten by the day
and sudden amputation was our only choice, but

I still feel you, like
fingers grazing skin, I feel you
like a heart that never left this chest
I still feel you, and

Though we had to cut away
the decayed flesh of what is
I am still trapped thinking about
what was, and what could have been

My heart is still full of tomorrows
and I need you to know
I will never love again, not the way I loved you
never that way

Each path before, led me to you  
but somewhere along the way, we took a detour
and I can't stop thinking; Is this how it ends?
is this the way true love was meant to die?

Severed heart, bleeding out within my hand?
I'm only human, and there is a limit
to how much pain I can endure
and even though you're gone

*I can still feel you beating in my chest
A phantom limb is the sensation that an amputated or missing limb (even an *****) is still attached to the body and is moving appropriately with other body parts
A repost.
s y k Feb 3
Time and again,
at dusk or dawn,
I beg my head to envisage
a mirage or an image
of your bones lying still in death.
That helps me sleep at night.
It calms my breath.

In my dreams, you're a phantom.
Torn away from me, inadvertently.
You didn't leave,
pick up and disappear deliberately.
You were poisoned, ill, choked, killed,
you froze or passed in sleep,
you maybe drowned at sea.
Not in despair, in a life so unfair.  

You did what you thought was best.
Perhaps it was, I still can't tell.
It's what you do when you're young,
seek a new start, a chance to become
something you can't run away from.

In my dreams, I'm your companion.
Your muse, friend and lover,
we ran away together.
Travelled and settled, hand in hand.
Built a life that could withstand
everything that drove you away forever.

In my dreams, you couldn't let go and we didn't have to end.
In reality, I find it easier to pretend you were dead.
You'll live forever in my dreams.
My brain makes up stories to compartmentalise when I'm in pain, like imagining the love of my life dead when they broke my heart. Morbid yes, but it helped me start to heal.
Zoe Mae Nov 2018
I wish I never met you

I wish I could forget you

I hate saying I regret you

But you hurt me and I let you
Jack Jul 2018
A phantom kisser leans down to kiss my lips as he presses himself against my timid body, allowing me to let go.
Fear ingulfed fades away,
Replaced by peace.
Mind and body collide,
Set aside the hurt.
So far and distant,
But so close all the same.
A phantom kisser,
So far and near.
And oh so dear.

Vexren4000 Sep 2018
A visage of days gone by,
A shadow of what it once was,
Nothing but sweet memory,
To feed my soul in these days,
Time passing by faster than ever,
Yet dilating as I sit,
Phantoms of days long gone,
Haunt the dreams of everyone.

Umi Mar 2018
Urges through the night, a blade dancing with its mistress, discarding what has summoned up in her way alike a ****** crazed devotion,
Scarlet tears make their way down her cheek, washing the sand off as the pillars around begin to collapse alike cards one by one at the time,
Phantoms rage as a pure flower appears to commence blooming,
The warped moon embraces the shadows of such fools as it rises,
Actions with not much meaning seek their rampage as the battle field becomes frail and soulless through this sleepless night of lunacy,
When the flood of realisation arrives she will be swept away unlike the wise who make a more solid, stadfast decision. How trecious,
Does she want to take a dance with this cruel world she rampages on, are her ideals fitting for this battle she is about to win for now,
Drenched in blood and impurities of her work, her mind remains pure, innocent, not even sweating one thought to the consequences,
Mercy nor compassion are unlikely to be granted in this darkening realm, not to her dancing knife or her lunatic ****** devotion,
Time is moving, as she sacrafices her soul for her actions,
Taking another dance in this distorted dark

~ Umi
Umi Mar 2018
To its mistresses wish, the blade dances through till she has been pleased, leaving a mess by engraving the scars of death as a mark, Alike a shadow she does not crack, cavorting a masacre of cruelty,
Berserking she follows the orders, shedding blood in fountains of death and misery without chance for this rage to stop without order,
Emotionless, cold, time is for her to stop moving when her ****** devotion consumes her entirely, swaying in the dark, destroying,
Tortured with true or false everyone disappears, time flows again,
A phantom glides over the sea of blood, in a mist, scarlet red,
Observing this would cause a riot of emotions to rage in pure fury,
Her name already burnt away, as a new one was given to her after this rumpus had found its peak, leaving the mistress in bliss, joy,
Watching their attemps to flee as they reach their dying moments,
Until those who get to close have perished, nobody and nothing left,
Cricling karma surely will catch them, after this sacrifice is done,
Warm blood melts the left over snow, laughter echos and reverbrates through the unending seeming night, bells ring, it is only midnight.
In the end her loyalty and efforts, her energy and love for her mistress
Are but a ****** devotion

~ Umi
Nigdaw Jul 20
Come and love me
I am out here on the periphery
writing poems
to the earth and sea

a ghost of a voice
barely audible
except on the breeze
if you listen carefully
you will hear it whispering
as sun touches sea
as rain starts to fall
as seasons change
as you lose your way

I am here
out on the periphery
listen carefully
I will not let you fall

driven by some unseen hand
the pen travels across 80 gsm
sometimes I manage to write things
even I don't understand.
Zoe Grace Aug 22
I'm not what you want
But I'm exactly what you need!
Take a bite and feed
Your satisfaction guaranteed.

I'm your sunshine, woah
I'm gonna burn down your parade!
I'm the shotting star that you wish,
You wished you never made!
As much as i wish i could say this was mine, it is not. All of the credit to an amazing artist, NateWantsToBattle, a.k.a Nathan Sharp.
He has some fantastic music.
Go to Youtube right now and listen.
Sam Jul 2018
A girl covered in blood
with a face looking sad
came close and took my hands
"Help me, my name is Trinidad."

She told me about herself.
How she's living on
a deep cold well
and why she's using
some sort kind of spell.

She just wanted to forget...
the night when she died
and lose her own heart.

She don't want any regrets...
that's why she came to decide
for a search on a heart.



people's heart.


I can see
through her eyes,
the pain she bears
in every drop of her tears.

By that, I decided to help
by giving her half of my heart
and half of my life
For her to live again and break free from her hell.

Noises in Mind, Copyright © 2014
Sam N. de la Rosa
All rights reserved.
I hope no one thinks that this is about literal ghost. It's just a story of a girl wanting to live a new life that she did everything she think is right but then ended up a mess. That's why she asked for help on making her brand new again.
Tori Nov 2017
At a towering height it looms o're me
Hiding me within its shadow,
It bears the face of a phantom
with eyes that are dark and hollow.

With one jagged claw around my throat
and the other to my heart pressed
Its voice is a deafening static,
it will never let me rest.

It speaks with empty words that sounds so horribly like truth.
It praises distrust and confusion
while demanding the need for proof.

It feeds off the nervous breath that I breathe,
Its intoxicated by thoughts of gloom,
It ***** the life out from my lungs
and my happiness it consumes.

The shadow overwhelms  me,
now my body's growing numb
I wait in mortal terror
for the darkness to overcome.

Then something catches my attention,
is it fear in those empty eyes?
Its grip begins to loosen
and its static sounds more like lies.

There's a whisper moving gently
like cool water upon the sand
He  kindly beckons to me
asking that I take His hand.

The jagged claws have lost that grip
which once held me strong
Now I can face it eye to eye
as I should have all along

The shadow fears the Whisper's truth,
and it shudders in trepidation
the battle's won, the foe undone
now in retreat it hastens.

I inhale deeply and then a voice
with no language and no tone
breathes over me, saying lovingly
"You are not alone"
I have gone through many periods of doubt in my life...especially about my faith, but I have found that by facing the doubt head on I grow stronger.
CK Baker Oct 2017
they’re pouring out of the
those pretentious machiavellians
in ailing albino frames
eccentric masked figures
milling about the glow light
like night moths
in a cold london fog

lunatic gazers
with seeping moles
pinned by frogmen and twine
spider climbers
in hell fire
splitting seams
on the fading
and hideous ink

guards of the perch
stand on hades hand
while monsters and demons
with severed limbs
taunt the condemned
and wanting
souls of the ******

cauldron fire
in blood red sky
silent screams
hack and wheeze
gas lines broken
words unspoken
teetering backwards
in the dark shadows
of the phantom abyss
Yip Wayne Jul 2018
Whitewashed four walls
Silence and total recalls
Ticking clock on the wall
My mind begging for a curtain call

Flashbacks in my cerebral theatre
Complimenting the rainy weather
Raindrop falls as my insides wither
As I lay on my bed where we were last together

4 months gone and I still remember
Your scent from my shirt down to my sweater
Your voice I recall and every laughter
Became history now that you found another

So much done in this apartment room
So much wrong ended it so soon
River of tears flow as I vacate the room
Another chapter ends, a new story resumes
Holland Michels May 2018
although the air was completely still
my body quivers
as if a small wind were stimulating my nerve endings

I lay silently as I process the events of my past
grabbing me into a hole of darkness
where all my innocence was lost
and all my purity taken

as if it were occurring now
you were near me again
so real I start to push your phantom hands
off my legs as I kick the sheets to the edge of the bed

I toss and turn as my body rebels
again and again against the actions
that never should have taken place
but did...

your eyes piercing gray
and your breath hot on my neck
you watch me as you lean in to kiss me goodnight
the only thing missing was the smell of alcohol
staggered under the musty smell
of your unbrushed teeth of the day

as if every moment that had taken place
was occurring at once
I leap up from bed
attempting to silence
the screams in my head
screams I never screamed when I should have....
#sexualassault #ptsd #nightmares
CK Baker Dec 2016
It’s all you’ve ever seen
in a midnight’s dream
the zero sum games
and exorcised demons
asinine plunges
on tunkwa brides
phantom fingers cradling
the ragged red dress

shadow hands
clasp at the floodgates
lava fields boil
through scorched amber veins
needles pierce
the look out
where flames dance wildly
over boneyard grounds

deep red pedestals
behind bleeding walls
empty halls and doorways
throughout the sinful nest
bulging eyes and blood rush
in a dark crimson sky
a funeral, before I die
c Jan 13
I used to dance alone in my room
I’d spin the spun black under needle
And turn till my walls became one
I’d stretch my face in strain
And mimic pain in movement

I’d measure arms and hands to
The waver of the music
I cried in concaved chest and
Screamed in legs splitting air,
Laughed in fingers spreading wide
And collapsed to the beat’s final throe

I became a simulated symphony, and
So became each dance;
My afternoon secret
I’d forget words and
Mesh into mangled body melody

mmmmmm those hands droning guitar and
a distant voice
in verse,
drumming, drumming

My body curled around each syllable,
Both in question and answer

It was pain, yes
It was heartache
Yes, it was beautiful
But I soon realized
It was not mine

- c
Translating music into movement and interpreting the artist’s pain
under the moonlight
you kept close to me
becoming my shadow
under a velvet sky,
your body screaming
for the touch of my fingertips
in the darkness i lie,
i still hear your ragged breaths
the feeling of your sweat
travelling down
the arch in my back
haunting me like a phantom
you are my ghost in the night.
JV Beaupre May 2016
"So why are you painting a woman in a bottle?"
The challenge. Handling all those quirky reflections and layers of transparency.

"She has phantom arms and legs, what about that?"
Yes, pretty cool. A Vitruvian woman in a bottle. *

"I'm looking for Meaning: Don't paintings look under the surface?"
You mean, what does it mean, really mean? It's just a way to test my skill.

"But what are you saying with that?"
It's not feminist nor anti, it's just an exercise. Besides, there's a rope.

"But aren't you, as an artist, exposing reality, presenting emotions and feelings, seeing the soul?"
I'm not on a soapbox-- I'm testing my skill-- I paint and don't think about it too much. After all, 'Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar' or is it 'just a smoke'?

"I don't like your message."
OK, I'll paint you in a bottle...
As a shrunken head.
On the other hand, I once painted an agricultural scene based on a photo from the 1930s that I thought carried a social message. Most people wanted to know what kind of tractor it was.
as your heavy hands
lingered beneath the golden light
i heard your heart split open and melt unto mine
it stained the silk curtains
turned them into heavy smoke  
as my veins became filled with all of your ghosts

your skin
as unsheltered and as lonely as mine
frayed at its ends
as it held scars
created by falsehoods

your suit of armour
could no longer hold its own

your steady heartbeats
and slow movements
were filled with fear i couldn't help but keep
wrapped inside my earthly flesh
for your turgid eyes
had sunken into mine
hand in hand
we ran down the cliffside
wind howling
the waves crashing
crimson hair
dancing in the breeze
we sat for a moment
lost in the beauty of it all
thinking that the ocean
hugging the shore so calmly
before violently
breaking at it's feet
is much like how
our love feels.
- my dreams are where i belong to you.
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