Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"romancer" poems
I have crushes because I am unable to commit. I can pick up affairs and when I'm tired, I quit. I have crushes because I am an obessessive romancer. I am infected with lust which always spread like cancer. I have crushes because I have yet to fall in love yet lucky enough to have my heart broke into two. I could never love you wholly this is why I 'crush' on you.
0
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 4:36 PM UTC
Crush Soda
one undead sed to one too undead: "id **** for a romancer whos a necromancer."     Well, abracadabra with just an ounce of my magic i produce half a cadavre and then the other half grab it and shake it until it blabbers: "well im awake but id rather be underground with dead matter." and though ive never been sadder i had to grab her and stab her a thousand times in such patterns that all was left were mere tatters, talk about beaten and battered as all the pieces were scattered (i made em smaller and flatter til they looked good so i blabbered): "you look amazing"- "im flattered" she sed but that didnt matter. im just a ****** whos madder than Hell oh well whats it matter the feelings of a mad hatter madder than other mad hatters collaboratively dont matter in fact the maddest just happens to have had all his dreams shattered. evacuate bowels and bladder. souls eaten, demons get fatter, eternal state of dead palar, dying in Hell, almost had her. god ****
0
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 3:59 AM UTC
The Magic Mike!
You be the beauty And I'll be the beast I'll try to sweep you off your feet Tho the rolls might be reversed I promise I won't be perverse You're just the one I've been searching for Watching you dance across the floor You'll grip my hand perfectly tight You know I only have one night Until that rose wilts and dies Then I'll forever be living this lie When those petals fall to the floor You won't love me anymore For I'll be trapped inside of a body unkind Washing away your blissful mind I'll take your hand but you'll turn away If I only had the chance to say and prove to you the lies that have been; The outside that this body forbids So go be the beauty I'll still be the beast And when I sweep you off your feet We'll dance until this world subsides We wont have to worry about those lies Even when that flower wilts away I'll want nothing more than for you to stay And see me for the true romancer to be The one that steals your heart; You'll see Alysia Marie 2014 ©
0
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 9:13 AM UTC
Beast
Maybe it was fate in the threads of that skirt as short as temper and temperance that ended the ellipsis breathing. A dancer needs an answer on life enhancers, dear romancer. Your smile was more than good enough. I drank of it, the cup of Christ that turned my blood into whining moments of insecurity. Call security, you say, making the call on what I am because I am transparent, transdimensional, traversing the bridge of your nose with my high-risk eyes. You say that I am, and they cry. As your hands ticked at your clock-click keyboard, I waited, passed the time wondering the difference between naive and navel. Harm came like rain in winter, the words of Zephyrus slipping from between those amber lips, lithe on naked fingertips. You take the names of gods in vain, into your veins, let them convert only the white blood cells. You'd crucify me for vanity. You accuse the recluse of abuse, and it suits you, tailored because hatred sized you up the moment you met. The orchestra disbanded, the buds of May have yet to burst, yet to blossom like you say you always will, but the spring in your step when you walk away from the last word tells me more than the chirping birds nesting in your hair. You remind me of Paris on the walls of Troy, thief of hearts and fool indeed. Bringer of fire, brander of hell, but only because you were already the Tartarus Employee of the Month and enjoying Elysium. This is the beautiful mystery undone as her clothes and naked as the day Rosemary Matron gave her to the world. This is the beautiful mystery returned to voids as tangled as her hair, the nonspace between the curls hiding secrets and conviction. This is the beautiful mystery concluded, all the movements of her symphonic body no longer to allure. This is the beautiful mystery answered, the riddle of the Sphinx leaping from the pillar, a killer not quite so strong as her eyes. This is the beautiful mystery laid to rest, buried alive in a life discarded. This is good-bye.
0
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 9:42 AM UTC
Beautiful Mystery Undone
Maybe it was fate in the threads of that skirt as short as temper and temperance that ended the ellipsis breathing. A dancer needs an answer on life enhancers, dear romancer. Your smile was more than good enough. I drank of it, the cup of Christ that turned my blood into whining moments of insecurity. Call security, you say, making the call on what I am because I am transparent, transdimensional, traversing the bridge of your nose with my high-risk eyes. You say that I am, and they cry. As your hands ticked at your clock-click keyboard, I waited, passed the time wondering the difference between naive and navel. Harm came like rain in winter, the words of Zephyrus slipping from between those amber lips, lithe on naked fingertips. You take the names of gods in vain, into your veins, let them convert only the white blood cells. You'd crucify me for vanity. You accuse the recluse of abuse, and it suits you, tailored because hatred sized you up the moment you met. The orchestra disbanded, the buds of May have yet to burst, yet to blossom like you say you always will, but the spring in your step when you walk away from the last word tells me more than the chirping birds nesting in your hair. You remind me of Paris on the walls of Troy, thief of hearts and fool indeed. Bringer of fire, brander of hell, but only because you were already the Tartarus Employee of the Month and enjoying Elysium. This is the beautiful mystery undone as her clothes and naked as the day Rosemary Matron gave her to the world. This is the beautiful mystery returned to voids as tangled as her hair, the nonspace between the curls hiding secrets and conviction. This is the beautiful mystery concluded, all the movements of her symphonic body no longer to allure. This is the beautiful mystery answered, the riddle of the Sphinx leaping from the pillar, a killer not quite so strong as her eyes. This is the beautiful mystery laid to rest, buried alive in a life discarded. This is good-bye.
Continue reading...
60
Terminally ill, infected with lust curiosity and nerves. Spreading like a virus, your words crawl deep into my veins. Tongue numb, lungs struggle in the midst of this plague. Embedded in my marrow, festering in my throat enclosed by bones, guarded by ribs The ache won’t leave, and I’m starting to wonder, if my chest cavity is better off empty.
0
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 6:50 PM UTC
Infected Romancer
Were you always a killer, commendable, expendable secret agent girl? Were you always a dancer, entrancer, Irene Adler, romancer, secret agent girl? Were you smart or kind of heart, lover of art, playing your part. secret agent girl? Were you feared or revered, a pioneer of weird, secret agent girl? Were you a dream, beauty supreme, eyes all agleam, more than you seemed, secret agent girl? Who lost you, tossed you and at what cost due, secret agent girl? When did they rob you of your glory, rewrite author, title, story, secret agent girl? Where did they take you, break you, make you into something new, secret agent girl? Are you Cold War fossil lost in time, too young to be old, past no prime, secret agent girl? Beneath the earth, above the sky, not allowed to cry, to die, are you, secret agent girl? Who were you before your halo cracked, before the fact, your devil's pact, secret agent girl? I'll kiss you, miss you, this bliss is amiss, secret agent girl. It's time to go, leave me alone, you broken hero, secret agent girl.
0
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 3:00 PM UTC
Secret Agent Girl
Pity party, pity poison, pity is pretty ****** off at your Pompadour proposition, your Pompeii proposal. The judge and jury blame your execution; you thought the tri in matrimony meant three in love when it really meant that you're the third wheel. You hoped I'd kiss and tell in your world of wedding bells. Go to hell. You smiled as you beguiled with false feminine wiles the boy of miles and miles away, hoping that he might stay with you instead of her. Well, this is his answer, and, dear failed romancer, you won't get that last dance. Her love was pretense in past tense, events not recorded in your history book hips. Ah, a novel idea: you, John Green with envy, tried to bend me to your whim. Tried, but your pride died when I sighed and said that I loved her, so you booked it from the floor and seemed gone forevermore, a footnote in the lore until you...turned into a ***** came to me and said that you loved me more. That is wrong. Strike the gong. This is a correction. Your insurrection of our connection turned affection into an infection, and don't interrupt with your **** interjection-- were you expecting an ******** Because you're getting a rejection, so keep your confection objection to yourself. You hoped to trace my face, take first place or third base, leave no space for even lace, and half of lace is empty space. I should have brought mace. You are jelly in a jam, so your ham-fisted attitude led the lamb of love to slaughter; the s leads laughter on, standing for *** (check male or female), stimulation, squabble, **** **** sext-- a wrecked relationship sinking, sinking, and being nearer, my ******* God, to thee makes me sick between my bulkhead bones. The iceberg of your persistence puts up its last resistance, but it melts, melts, melts, in water hot as hell. Is it not plain as you the pain you put me through? You, with two left feet, hope I'll cheat the day we meet on the girl who was your friend, and you've done this once before. Your dainty hopes that you could go two for two with hearts and minds disgusts, and your lust broke my trust, and I must, must, must ring the bells. Class dismissed. I hope you've learned.
0
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 5:29 PM UTC
For The Third, v2
Pity party, pity poison, pity is pretty ****** off at your Pompadour proposition, your Pompeii proposal. The judge and jury blame your execution; you thought the tri in matrimony meant three in love when it really meant that you're the third wheel. You hoped I'd kiss and tell in your world of wedding bells. Go to hell. You smiled as you beguiled with false feminine wiles the boy of miles and miles away, hoping that he might stay with you instead of her. Well, this is his answer, and, dear failed romancer, you won't get that last dance. Her love was pretense in past tense, events not recorded in your history book hips. Ah, a novel idea: you, John Green with envy, tried to bend me to your whim. Tried, but your pride died when I sighed and said that I loved her, so you booked it from the floor and seemed gone forevermore, a footnote in the lore until you...turned into a ***** came to me and said that you loved me more. That is wrong. Strike the gong. This is a correction. Your insurrection of our connection turned affection into an infection, and don't interrupt with your **** interjection-- were you expecting an ******** Because you're getting a rejection, so keep your confection objection to yourself. You hoped to trace my face, take first place or third base, leave no space for even lace, and half of lace is empty space. I should have brought mace. You are jelly in a jam, so your ham-fisted attitude led the lamb of love to slaughter; the s leads laughter on, standing for *** (check male or female), stimulation, squabble, **** **** sext-- a wrecked relationship sinking, sinking, and being nearer, my ******* God, to thee makes me sick between my bulkhead bones. The iceberg of your persistence puts up its last resistance, but it melts, melts, melts, in water hot as hell. Is it not plain as you the pain you put me through? You, with two left feet, hope I'll cheat the day we meet on the girl who was your friend, and you've done this once before. Your dainty hopes that you could go two for two with hearts and minds disgusts, and your lust broke my trust, and I must, must, must ring the bells. Class dismissed. I hope you've learned.
Continue reading...
53
Dizzy feeling Staring at the ceiling Cool and white Could it feel my spite Try to Speak Words come out so bleak Running for the door Both feet escape the cold floor Fresh air To keep me from ripping out my hair Breathing begins to quicken I’m starting to feel sick and Helpless once again Go outside Trying to hide In the moonlight No happiness in sight Climbing into the pool Feeling like such a fool Cool, yet warm water surrounds me I think of the sea Begging for an answer To stop being such a hopeless romancer Needing a sign Before deciding it’s time To give it all away No one left to beg me to stay Needing a sign This can’t be my time This can’t be my last day A shooting star says stay I do Didn’t have a clue I stayed
0
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 10:02 AM UTC
Giving Up
Egalitarians of a smaller world with forks for fingers chew loudly on the gravy train of poor boys paper thin paychecks spit me out cause I got no cash better to be on the street with a shoeless shuffle than trying to capture a seat at the silver spoon table.... Pasty-faced bankers counting out loud the graves of American dreams they spoiled the song of their voices in unison is a terrible dirge and a strange romancer that keeps one and all clinging to that sweetest of dreams hope.... Dudley Do Right is a little man in his little office acting like the bureaucrat he was born to be just pennies on the pound for his cold soul a deadeye wrangler six shooter bang bang his heart a cardboard cutout of his childhood idol deadeye wrangler six shooter bang bang all these flavorless fools pay to play on the great machine where the crowds call for ever more salacious parody of what should be where the almighty buck stops here twice a day all day Sunday preacher man baker, solider, liar, thief deadeye wrangler six shooter bang bang deadeye wrangler six shooter bang bang © 2018 mark john junor all of my poems are my exclusive property and all rights are reserved
0
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 12:11 PM UTC
a deadeye wrangler
Is she just a distraction Or is she an answer Divide her into fraction Slippery wet romancer Better take some action And remove that cancer Make a precise extraction Rejuvenating life enhancer Water, sun, aghast rejoice, life begins to grow Times so very fast yet motions are fairly slow Shall thy spark last, will my eyes stay aglow Will memories be made, for all of thee to know When memory will fade, will she still show Crave what's forbade and all the love below No thoughts can jade the debt to life we owe All dues are paid, now get in line for life row May rest be laid, with dreams from long ago
0
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 6:56 AM UTC
Heart...less
Anticipation begins With a slow hungry beat Whispered words surge towards Two hearts that will soon meet Sweet sounds are plucked By the merest soft brush The tune is full The music is lush My heart beats in time To the rhythm you set You’re a fine musician Your music I will not forget Your fingertips move Like a tribal dancer You lure, a seducer A primal romancer Desire sings in my blood My body is not immune You play me like a fine instrument But I’m loving the tune The crescendo is all fire The rhythm is strong As the last note is fading I crave the next song 26/07/2010
0
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
Play Me Another Song
White translucent ribbons Floating in front of my eyes And all that lies Transports me to another world An illusion of a better one, I believe. And, I'm afraid I'd rather not leave. You're a captivator, a dancer And a romancer Sometimes I'm afraid your enchantment will drive me to an unhealthy mentality full of unforgotten fallacy. But already you have me on strings dancing like I've got wings Your language speaks to me in a melody one of serenity. Sink into my mind, drag into your black hole, sink into my soul.
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 10:37 PM UTC
Into the World of Illusion
Unskilled romancer of moods... bruised like a plumb from false starts--fumbling, falling into graces...whose? Some bright-bulbed peanut gallery staring at you from the rears of their minds. Watching you cartoonishly swept off your feet by cosmic record skips. The cavities of your features filling with shadows, as if touched up for your variations on danse macabre.
0
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 2:10 PM UTC
Variations on Danse Macabre
love love dove the dove fell far love love dove burned to a char craven craven raven again rose a star craven craven raven picked at your scar vain vain crane full of empty words vain vain crane of the foolish birds wail wail quail a dying creed well well quail a time to bleed a time that ends the pain of past a wound that mends has been passed i cannot lie the pain i felt with our goodbye oh i could melt i'm truly sorry about the necromancer the love which you gave to the poor romancer were you brought back from the dead? if so, then please live and not dread look on and not dread the memories that your mind must tread
0
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 5:01 AM UTC
birds and necromancy
Everyone writes about coffee The embedded love The innate passion That’s brewed strong That’s filtered long Everyone talks about coffee and love Everyone compares coffee to love Everyone forgets its natural taste Everyone forgets its bitter taste Its rancid lingerance Its putrid flavor Everyone forgets to write about coffee creamer The artificial sweetener The true romancer
0
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
coffee creamer
There's a rainbow in the grey clouds Where hidden far beyond is an Opal shaped burning red sun Like an artist you are a dark romancer With brown eyes that haunt me in my sleep still Your initials ark inked into my skin With one foot forward and craving a grave To lay this to rest Changing faces and teeth that gleam You are a shifter so shift to the beat Behind grey skies I hear an angels voice she whispers your name As I ride the rainbow to the shallow depths of my grave
0
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 3:32 PM UTC
Grey Rainbows
Uselessly I watched you glide with her holding her tightly while she sank into your embrace You drew her breath made her heart race placed a hand upon her shoulder It hurt You cast me a you-can't-do-anything glance and I winced at how light-footed you are It was obvious you have done this often thief with a devilish grin crusher of hopes When you left with your arm around her you looked back smugly You're used to getting what you want Your gloating broke me I curse you cancer brutal romancer irresistible lover ****** good dancer
0
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 5:08 PM UTC
Dance Partner
the inner child has ambitions to portray those many renditions these dreams are as propositions lifelong missions, lifelong missions reaching beyond the realms of space discovering new grounds to trace all found in a romancer's place adult this race, adult this race youthful reverie taking flight seizing the huge visions of night an objective that brings such light brilliant insight, brilliant insight
0
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 1:21 AM UTC
The Inner Child (Monotetra)
My babe is the sexiest kitten I know, she's meeker than a lamb & bolder than a lion, there's no denying, she's tastes like the sweetest **** captures my heart with everything she does, I feel her genuine love for me, all the time. I'd be lying if I told you she was mean, there's not a single bone like that in her body. She's never shoddy, she dresses to the hilt. From her birthday suit to her tight fittin' jeans, everything about her is so doggone cute. She's a romancer & a fantastic dancer, the way she moves is smooth like butter, her undulations are exquisite & exotic, she wins all the awards for being ****** nope, definitely not neurotic, yep, hypnotic. Oh sure, she can cook & sew & keep a clean home, but she's so much more than all of that. She knows what you need to know about motors & tools & paint & plumbing & guns, too. I dream about her a lot, know how supercool she is, she's so much fun when she comes alive out of the lonely recesses of my mind, day and night. I never miss her kisses, 'cause I just make them up & whenever I want another, there's no reason to fight her, she smothers me with a lot of them.
0
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
I'm In Love With My Imagination
Spencer Beautiful Baby my boy, and my lover, silently glowing with hope. He reminds me that through worry, although tonight- I may still sleep. My Spencer, always so ready to hear & see but only ever in our blue dreams. *Eager to know; Understand Eager to help, desperate; to heal. To fix- to carry.* Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. A name, a question & an answer, a Silent Singer's basement dancer- a Simple, magic, modern-romancer. so it's him with these words, that I choose to now smother, as I write precipitously  , yet another.. Prayer that his truth & love uncover, Pieces of me as memories recover, a new way to yearn & then rediscover, sincerity's truth within one and other.
0
Aug 5, 2020
Aug 5, 2020 at 8:40 PM UTC
Zuzu
Rev it up revelations Poems I am starting to heat Like a sweet *** The thirst to quench The sun stays never to be switched Like a birth glowing rich The procreation bloom Egyptian words Do they really need more room? ((One Day Creation)) 575 Haiku 24/7 A spiritual touch of the Rumi Kabuki Whom he? Through me His poem Knew my assumptions? Run around  to Sue-me____ Mooney Cafe George Clooney 5-Loves too many? 7-Moves money talks 5-Doves peek woo Love me do You know I love Poems More than you Loves five fire tribe and words enlight The punchy resolution That's your flight Shes higher love doves He craves all her words ((Divination)) To resist the temptation Fruit punch someone got a hunch One Stanza not a bunch The Nutcracker Ballerina Italian Archetypal Piza Celestial Poems Mystical poetically loved Hierarchy of her poem potent well-fit glove Such words to build Strength with dignity such a rarity Her patience deep set With such potency The Republicans or Democrats Higher than the Penthouse or wearing ballet flats Poems need to be heard Robin-joy to the world Double breasted he's suited Please no copycats Poems cheek to cheek The dancer true romancer every poem week Fred Astaire Madame and Monseir fresh baguette Poem goes deeper then the crust of bread Don't underestimate the difference How words can make lives change The world so Parametric We are all Programmatic Poems and loves platonic Shakespearian force With style and gravity Meet her sexuality Make the transition The sonnet sailing Fourteen lines Let's not get greedy ((With All Assumptions)) Not to be disturbed please no interruptions Poems are our lives You wear the crown Leave them unwanted ones for the class clown
0
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC
Poems Assumptions
Rev it up revelations Poems I am starting to heat Like a sweet *** The thirst to quench The sun stays never to be switched Like a birth glowing rich The procreation bloom Egyptian words Do they really need more room? ((One Day Creation)) 575 Haiku 24/7 A spiritual touch of the Rumi Kabuki Whom he? Through me His poem Knew my assumptions? Run around  to Sue-me____ Mooney Cafe George Clooney 5-Loves too many? 7-Moves money talks 5-Doves peek woo Love me do You know I love Poems More than you Loves five fire tribe and words enlight The punchy resolution That's your flight Shes higher love doves He craves all her words ((Divination)) To resist the temptation Fruit punch someone got a hunch One Stanza not a bunch The Nutcracker Ballerina Italian Archetypal Piza Celestial Poems Mystical poetically loved Hierarchy of her poem potent well-fit glove Such words to build Strength with dignity such a rarity Her patience deep set With such potency The Republicans or Democrats Higher than the Penthouse or wearing ballet flats Poems need to be heard Robin-joy to the world Double breasted he's suited Please no copycats Poems cheek to cheek The dancer true romancer every poem week Fred Astaire Madame and Monseir fresh baguette Poem goes deeper then the crust of bread Don't underestimate the difference How words can make lives change The world so Parametric We are all Programmatic Poems and loves platonic Shakespearian force With style and gravity Meet her sexuality Make the transition The sonnet sailing Fourteen lines Let's not get greedy ((With All Assumptions)) Not to be disturbed please no interruptions Poems are our lives You wear the crown Leave them unwanted ones for the class clown
Continue reading...
101
Slipping and crawling, Tears dripping and falling, I'm bawling, Calling! There's no real answer, My life just a cancer, Backstabbing romancer, A psychedelic enhancer! Nothing what it seems, Walking on these high beams, I smile with silent screams! Nobody knows my troubles, They bubble, double on the double, Un-seen behind explosive clouds and rubble! This is my Crown Of Thorns, I've carried since I was born, Forever Worn, Forever Torn, I'm Sworn... To Be Alone To Silently Mourn! All alone, Fighting on my own, My pain never shown, Seeds of shame are sown... My ***** little secrets, And I have to keep it! Forever reap it! Not letting them know the real story, Letting them always ignore me, And spew their hate before me... This is my Crown Of Thorns, I've carried since I was born, Forever Worn, Forever Torn, I'm Sworn... To Be Alone To Silently Mourn! Day by day, I'[m falling away, Pretending I'm okay, But seeking death when I pray! If they stood in my shoes for one second, They'd plee for the Angel Of Death to be beckoned. My world is more than drama, Goes beyond a feeling of trauma, Can't be touched by the dali lama! That's why I'll remain distant i the sirens, Silent in the chatter and the silence, Say nothing thru all the death and the violence... Take all the abuse from all the tyrants! Everyday I get older, I'll just carry this world on my shoulders, No matter how big the boulders, I'll carry on this quiet lonely soildier! This is my Crown Of Thorns, I've carried since I was born, Forever Worn, Forever Torn, I'm Sworn... To Be Alone To Silently Mourn!
0
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 9:42 AM UTC
^CROWN OF THORNS^
Slipping and crawling, Tears dripping and falling, I'm bawling, Calling! There's no real answer, My life just a cancer, Backstabbing romancer, A psychedelic enhancer! Nothing what it seems, Walking on these high beams, I smile with silent screams! Nobody knows my troubles, They bubble, double on the double, Un-seen behind explosive clouds and rubble! This is my Crown Of Thorns, I've carried since I was born, Forever Worn, Forever Torn, I'm Sworn... To Be Alone To Silently Mourn! All alone, Fighting on my own, My pain never shown, Seeds of shame are sown... My ***** little secrets, And I have to keep it! Forever reap it! Not letting them know the real story, Letting them always ignore me, And spew their hate before me... This is my Crown Of Thorns, I've carried since I was born, Forever Worn, Forever Torn, I'm Sworn... To Be Alone To Silently Mourn! Day by day, I'[m falling away, Pretending I'm okay, But seeking death when I pray! If they stood in my shoes for one second, They'd plee for the Angel Of Death to be beckoned. My world is more than drama, Goes beyond a feeling of trauma, Can't be touched by the dali lama! That's why I'll remain distant i the sirens, Silent in the chatter and the silence, Say nothing thru all the death and the violence... Take all the abuse from all the tyrants! Everyday I get older, I'll just carry this world on my shoulders, No matter how big the boulders, I'll carry on this quiet lonely soildier! This is my Crown Of Thorns, I've carried since I was born, Forever Worn, Forever Torn, I'm Sworn... To Be Alone To Silently Mourn!
Continue reading...
60
Oh, Necromancer Ill bore you to sleep Jus' to hear you weep in your dreams I guess I have nothing much to say Jus' call me after I leave
0
Dec 11, 2019
Dec 11, 2019 at 4:14 PM UTC
Necromancer romancer
She glides across the ice Circling sparkles Skates shush across the floor Shimmering spray Lights that play Lithe dancer aloft she spins and soars Gentle hips swing in the crystalline breeze Pirohuettes descend Tattooing lines Etching ice pristine Canvas clean Sacred movement Soul designs This life is a fragile dancer Clad in fluttering sunset hue The rushing blood of a sweet romancer A flood of colors in twilight blue 2006 TL Boehm
0
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
Fragile Dancer
Let I lie with my hopes duly. Rested in an assurance that I will be found by an ally of fondness. Pondering to a multitude of angles. Stranded in just a brink of a nightmare. May I awaken from this perpetual slumber. Covet a warm heart of studious and charm before me in attraction. Lest there be another death to the fall of this curse. Cursed in miserable repetition, a pattern of repulsions and rejections. A bane to my heart, parching its ever-yearning desire. Neverending torture binding my soul in solitude. Does there remain a path free of this maze? Won't there be a light to lead the way to freedom? No one could settle in a course without expiration leading bitter. A youthful vessel grounded in the rootless sea of brought by time. Flowing it may be, may it lead my wavering hope into a full victory.
0
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
Bane to The Romancer