"shinigami" poems
I have seen colorful rainbows
And breath-taking sunsets
But I can't get enough of both
I can't get enough of nature
I would like to witness
Fireflies flying through the darkness
With their lights dancing around like in parties
Seeing it would really be great!
I'd love a show
Of falling white snow
Its cold touch on my skin
All I can do is to imagine!
But my biggest dream is
To see an Aurora Borealis
I'll permit even death
After I see this beauty
I grew up in a tropical city, you see
So nature became a mystery to me
They're like fairies asking for a chase
An exotic flavor I'd love to taste
But if the Shinigami comes to me first
Before I can check these off my wishlist
And if I can't bargain anymore
I'll calmly come with him and say, *"Sure.."
"I have already enjoyed Aurora Borealis
In my lover's eyes long before
And I had several fireflies in my stomach,
Plus I have fallen for someone like a snow."*
So no regrets
I'll check you all out in my next life
I'll leave to the living the rest
To take care of these wonders for the reincarnated
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 3:59 AM UTC
Her shallow waters, I dove in
head first trynna be someone
I shouldn't sin
suicide
if she wanted I would jump again; terrorist all she needed was a turban with a Taliban as a wristband
chants written on her body they were lyrics then
tattooed, and I was thinking more like angel wings instead she brought a dress from the devil on the ****** sands
tainted, glasses even tinted, everything Instragram everything vintage, everything is everything to her im just a witness; a blast from the past, a mistress of a mistress Killed it.
matter fact **** me this not what I wanted and I not who I should be; you say the sky's the limit but my limit is a frisbee my sky is a ceiling of a feeling of what could be
I don't think I want you any more!
MTA
stand clear closing doors
gasoline
burning bridges to the floor abandon ship ***** you don't wanna fall alone
but it seems im stuck in Davie Jones and swimming in her waters is the only way to roam,
grown
daughter of the music angel so; burn
Sean is the only way to go; swerve
I had get up outta there but no one elses water taste like Everclear and no one elses water I could jump in bare
matter fact there was never water there i could jump in raw, the rain coat was never there
Hold up, but what was I thinking
I knew her whole song she never had to sing it
I knew that it was wrong, I couldn't stop reneging
***** after ***** after *****
cut after cut with a blade
clubs I would cut cause of shame
I knew her whole hand so who is up for blame,
Or is this just a phase but maybe I was wrong, to think theres something better and maybe Im alone in thinking that there was palm trees and maybe nicer weather after I was giving up but I cant forget her.
so I
jumped in again, head first
she was wet all clear, slick roads
traveling full speed on her **** curves words slurred vision about to go
I'm bout to give it all up to this girl
my mans like I don't really think you know
cause once you go in raw you already sold your soul
and once you eat her fruit she already took your clothes.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
There's a thing in the reflection
Two beady eyes shoved deep into black
sockets, stabbing through my temple
There's a hunch in their back,
but not by choice
A collar wraps tightly around
the throat, creating deep holes for
inconsolable truths to slip out
I woke to him hanging from the
ceiling; ever constant blank expression plastered
The wire is wrapped around my body
We have never spoken a word
to one another. forever inseparable
A gentle kiss on the forehead,
and suddenly the floor seems much less cold
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 6:21 PM UTC
Pages turning in the breeze,
Names and dates written with ease,
Creatures not worthy of breath,
Each has chosen their own death,
Faces clear against the names,
Marking them for Satan's flames,
Spirits watch this work with greed,
Each line fills their ancient need,
Corrupted souls will come and go,
Mortals seldom see or know,
Angels walk the land as men,
Each one armed with sword and pen.
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 1:31 AM UTC
The black waters lap gently
At the shore of an obsidian beach.
I stand with my feet
Just submerged under the water,
My nails shining with kuro polish.
A shinigami waits beside me,
Its hands clasped behind its back
And its gaze fixed unblinkingly
At the distant, curved horizon.
Friends, enemies—I do not know yet:
All I know so far
Is that we’ve been standing here, together,
For quite some time,
And that every so often,
One of us will reach out
And clasp the other’s hand.
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 11:46 AM UTC
Your shadow has fallen over this place
like the plague.
The chandeliers cower at your advent,
collapsing atop this innocent crowd;
yet the violins still play.
Your presence ensues consternation.
Who's next?
Who's time is it?
It is I from which your invitation has been sent.
I am elated you could make it.
My mask is you,
with rose patterns aligned,
a gown to match,
with a bone breaking corset.
From my painted lips,
Will you save me this dance?
Face to face, chest to chest,
force each breath from my lungs.
Twirling now to my sounds,
I follow your lead.
Dip me back into your arms, my sweet,
finally reaping me with a kiss.
You are my only love.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 12:11 AM UTC
Feather pen, traditional; it is a lovely piece. Jar of ink,
Spilled a drop in a cracked floorboard. It spreads fast, covers the room. Isolated,
Blackened and insane. Thirty four minutes pass, not a sound.
Mind is failing: who am I? Forget your own name, voices are whispering.
Did you know lovers can find each others lips in the complete dark?
Minds reach, feel me. No. This is not dark.
This is endless, too much and too little to look for.
Skill does not matter here.
I fell down the rabbit hole, but my name is not Alice. My name
Is Death. I am a shinigami, you see. And my purpose is to cause pain and worry.
People cry for me. This dark room is where my film developes.
Picture the void that souls fall into, tortures children stabbing, cutting out their own hearts.
Write about it, children. Carve it into your skin and I will take you away.
I am her for you in your darkest hour. And I am always watching.
Never spill your blood red ink again.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
Everything is made from everything else.
The deep oceans of the iris.
To the integration of speech.
It all circles around the finite life people lead.
Regardless of what the self made kings and gods through the ages proclaimed.
Their ashes litter the same earth as the peasants that washed their ignorant feet.
There was no shinigami awaiting to return them to their kingdom.
All that stood before them as the last breathe was drawn were those same peasants.
Waiting for the last rites to be given so the fresh corpse could be taken to rot in a tomb.
Some shallow grave that was neither glorious nor spectacular.
The only thing it accomplished was cementing the cold fact that this life is it.
No bells or horns to guide the spirit.
No animal to hint at something greater.
Just a box.
With a pillow to ensure maximum comfort.
So when the decomposition sets in.
At least the box was pretty.
Pointless.
From one ignorant being to the rest.
Mayday.
Clear the predicted crash site.
And wait.
There will be limbs to collect.
Maybe for once.
All the pieces will be salvaged.
Not likely though.
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 2:59 AM UTC
Man predicts
Earthquakes, Cyclones,
Hurricanes, Tsunamis
But in trying to stop them
He becomes the shinigami.
Knowledge is fine
Controlling is divine
But Nature is still
BEYOND man’s confines!
Aug 16, 2024
Aug 16, 2024 at 12:28 AM UTC