"shuns" poems
You looked much prettier with long hair.
Don’t - give me that, show me a smile
it’s better to be natural oh!
look your arms are so hairy, hairier than mine.
Not rowdy or older than myself but definitely
confident and intelligent and maybe even
‘quirky’ as long as she’s thin
and kind. Because I don’t like fat girls
how to find your dream woma
where to find dream woman online free
I think I’m still in love with Grace but
she ignores and blanks and shuns me even
after I shared so much yet
she doesn’t even seem to care
hey
I’m verrru drunk
I see u
the little green dot next to your name haha
night then iguess
I think I just hate women and that
stupid insipid conceited *****
couldn’t tell a good guy if
he cuffed her clean
across the cheekbone
and spat in both her eyes
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 7:06 PM UTC
My mind never turns off
Like light from the stars after dawn
My conscious switch has been stomped
By the force of biology
And I can’t get a grip
My thoughts continue to romp
Out loud, and I scream them
Cause they scream at me too
I have no control of it
There’s nothing I can do
Conscious and subconscious?
I don’t believe in separation of the two
I think a mile a minute
My mind is a rendezvous
For both of their needs
They help fuel me,
And segregate only when I refuse to be free
I must say,
It makes everything more fun
The sky seems so vast
And every single blade of grass
Is just as interesting as the one next to it
Every rain drop of dew
Shines with a light
On lawn where it grew,
From the sun that shuns
It’s growth, when it hides beyond the clouds
I breathe it in when it decides to come out
It’s life
I just want to sing the thoughts I have
Because I don’t know
How to say them all, without forgetting
In the next few minutes,
When my mind is burned with then need
To explore even more
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
(This poem doesn't belong to me. The rightful owner is the author Darren Shan who wrote the Demonata and the Cirque du Freak book series. This poem is from his first book of the Demonata book series: Lord Loss.)
Lord loss sows all the sorrows of the world, lord loss seeds the grief starched trees
In the center of the web lowly lord loss bows his head
Mangled hands, naked eyes
Fanged snakes his soul line
Curled inside like texture sin
****** curdle sheets for skin
In the center of the web vile lord loss torments the dead
Over strands of red, lord loss crawls
Dispensing pain, despising all
Shuns friends, nurtures foes
Ravages hope, breeds woe
Drinks moons, devours suns
Twirls his thumbs till the reaper comes
In the center of the web Lush Lord Loss is all that is left.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 12:19 PM UTC
Distressed tears trickle down a face soiled with dolor
Flooding a pillow with painful memories
drowning every being of hope
Swallowing love in a black hole
Only to be thrown back up
As a wreckage of confused emotion
A sponge soaking up all my ambition
Leaving pessimistic thoughts to fill the cold void where there is only an echo of happiness
My already cracked spirits are fatigued
Sharply cutting through my mind where affection is suffocated
And lust is left gasping for air
My insecurities seek acceptance
Confiding in the cushion that holds every tear
It welcomes my troubles
And shuns my dreams
I am a lost soul
If only I could abide behind a fortress that protects my heart
only then will my tears cease
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
I help you through hard times, as you do I
But you really don’t know how much I hide
Even though we are the best of friends
I really don’t think you can understand
I can’t bear the hurt, I can’t stand the pain
A feeling of numbness I can’t explain.
This is a life in which I walk alone
Full of hope shattered and broken
Always angry for no reason at all
Constantly wanting to end this brawl
Fighting with myself again, and again,
Sometimes I want this life to end
Mom’s depressed but chooses to hide
Takes out her anger on those by her side
Doesn’t understand I try to help
She shuns me out, and hates instead
Grandma’s enduring an unstoppable fate
sickness has gotten her on the plate
Its sad to see such an innocent person
Become another cancer victim
Too many friends are hurt as well
Thinking that their life is hell
Too many friends wanting to stop
Thinking suicide is the only option
But inside me is the worst of all
I don’t know how long I can stand tall
Memories of happiness are shooed away
But horrible twisted thoughts to stay
Nothing I do can make her proud
There’s no silver lining on her clouds
I’m a rainstorm filled with dark black skies
And a haunting rainfall full of lies
I only wish I could make her see
I’m trying hard so I can be
Someone she that can trust and love
Instead she tells me I’m not good enough
Everything I do is a wrong decision
She constantly tells me I’m not living
The path that she truly wishes I’d take
But I’m only one big mistake
If I could I’d erase myself from here
I wouldn’t have to live this fear
I also wish I could be skinny
And always happy, fun, and pretty
Instead I look at myself in the mirror
Disappointed in the reflection that appears
It’s hard to live when you don’t love who you are
Wishing that you could change it all
Every day I make a mental note
How much would I miss, if I decide to go
And how much hurt makes me lean towards the edge
Is slowly creeping up the hedge
How much longer can I last?
Before my life becomes one of the past
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 2:52 AM UTC
I gave in
They yell at me
They call me boney
They call me a anorexic
They tore my heart
But this toilet healed it
They knocked me down
They told me to die
They said I'm no good
But my mama tell me to eat more because honey you're getting smaller!
How can you stand tall when the world shuns you down?
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
**Moving past the shuttered mind
that shuns imagination
I seek a stimulating thought
a cause for exhultation.
It hovers there
like hummingbirds
whose entry I deny.
And yet
I see the imagery
and heave a heartfelt sigh.
It teases me
and mocks me
as it dodges
every grasp
Laughing at my efforts
to retrieve it
with each clasp.
Yet empty air is my reward.
My snares are all in vain.
I close my eyes and meditate
for inspiration's gain.
An empty net
a vacant trap
the target still eludes.
Perhaps tomorrow
try again
away from darker moods.**
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 10:16 PM UTC
I've Been TRULY SURPRISED ... !!!
In Fact ... " MESMERISED " ....... !!!!
By The ... Volume of People ...
Who Tell Themselves Lies ... !!!
These Acts I Believe ...
Give Liars ... " Relief " ...
But Liars Are FOOLS ...
Who Simply ... AREN'T Cool ... !!!
And People Like These ...
Know NOT What They Do ... ?!?
In Fact That's NOT TRUE ... !!!!
But Does Give You Some Clues ...
On Why These FAKE People ...
Don't Have ... SHINY Shoes ... !!!
They Walk In A Mire ...
of .... " Liars for Hire " ....
They Claim The Good Life ...
But Are NOT Richard Briers ... ?!?
They DO ...
Make Me Laugh ... !!!
But They AIN'T Richard Pryor ... !!!!
Their ... " Devilish Ways " ...
Will Earn Them ... " HELLS' FIRE " ... !!!!
This Thing Has NO COLOUR ... !!!
A Liar's ... A LIAR ... !!!!!
But That ISN'T ME ... !!!
Try ... Tapping My Wire ... !!!
"IT ISN'T JUST WHITES !
YES BLACKS DO IT TOO !"
To Think It's One Culture ...
Is Really .... " NOT COOL " .... !!!
DON'T BE ... " A Fool " ... !!!
You're Lying To ... YOU ... !?!
To Think That ... " Your Creed " ..
Has Always Been ... " True " ...
It's Time To Move On ...
And Give You Some Proof ...
That ... Loved Ones You Have ...
May Just ... TAINT Your View ... !!!
Those Who You Feel ...
Would NOT ... Lie To You ...
Does Your Family ... ?
Have A ... GENUINE Crew ... ?!?
Or Do You Have Relatives ... ?
Being .... UNTRUE ... ?!? ...
Who ... Travel Through Time ...
WITHOUT ... " Doctor Who " ... !!!
Their Ship Is UNStabLE ...
Their Life Is .... " A Fable " ....
Kind of Like Guys ...
Who Sell ... " DODGY CABLE " ... !!!
Yeah ... Funny I Know ...
But ... Who's At YOUR Table ... ?!?
ROCKING ... Your Cradle ... !?!
I'll ... Give You A Choice ....
These Two ... Cain or Abel ... ???
Marriage Is Something ...
To Give You ... MORE Clues ...
That ... LOVE Is A Word ...
That ... GOOD LIARS Use ... !!!!!
DON'T ... Get It Confused ...
This ... LOVE Thing's ABUSED ...
By Liars Who ... USE It ...
To Get Some ... NEW Shoes ... !!!
It's Money ... You See ...
That Gives Liars GLEE ... !!!
Emotions Get Played With ...
Right To ... " Pregnancy " ... !!!
LOVE Is A ... GREAT THING ... !!!!
When Given For FREE ... !!!!!
But MANY Now USE IT ...
To ... Fulfil Their Greed ...
Just Look At Divorce Rates ...
Or ... Watch Your TV ...
I Really ... DON'T Care ...
If You ... Don't Want To See ... !!!!!
THE TRUTH Is This Simple ...
It's .... REALITY .... !!!!!
We All May ... Fall Victim ...
of Those Who Proceed ...
To ..."Hide Who They Are" ...
Behind LIES ... That They Feed ...
They're ... LYING To You ...
And ... LYING To Me ... !!!
Some of These People ...
.... Recite Poetry .... !!!
Some of These People ...
Are Rappers ... BELIEVE ... !!!
They Really Don't Know ... ?
What It Is To ... " Emcee " ... ?
This Is A MASTER ...
of .... " Ceremonies " ....
These Are TRUE POETS ...
Like ..... " Talib Kweli " .....
or Maybe THIS NAME ... ?
The Brother ... " Big V " ... ?!?
Or A Guy Called ... BIG VIRGE ... !?!
Okay I Mean .... ME .... !!!!!
A Man Who Speaks TRUTH ...
In This Here .... " Poetry " ....
I DON'T Want To Be ...
Above ... Humility ... !!!!!!
I Just Want To See ...
More ... TRUE Poetry ...
That SHUNS Foolish Pride ...
And Liars Who Feed ...
On ... " Poetic Liars " ...
These ... " Fictional Writers " ...
Just Write For THEMSELVES ...
To Earn A .... " FAST BUCK " ....
From .... " Media Wealth " ....
PLEASE OPEN Your Eyes ...
Let TRUTH Be Your Guide ...
Cos' It Really AIN'T Wise ...
To Have A ... FAKE Guise ... !!!!!
REMEMBER This Poem ....
... " Don't Tell Yourself Lies !!! " ...
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
Meandering like its canals
Venetian streets sing underfoot.
Who wore away the stone cobbled streets?
Who walked down to the shore?
Who gazed out at the Adriatic?
Who's dreams were lost in Venice's stream of streets?
Licentious lovers loved in Venice's streets, kissed on her bridges,
Crossed under by gondola and over by foot.
Proposed at the piazza San Marco.
Kissed, while the Grand Canal wound her way down.
Down into the sea,
where the menace that is the world, Venice shuns.
Rialto, Doge, Basilica, St. Marks, pigeons!
All evoke that lagoon city of streets.
Originally refugees, incolae lacunae ("lagoon dwellers")
Venetians, gave not only a place for the dispossessed,
but a place for the world to see, feel and taste.
Art, war, politics, commerce, spice and silk.
Venice with her ribbon of streets, alleyways and bridges
saw the Renaissance, the crusades, and the Black Death.
Glassware, paintings, sculptures, religion, refugees all
synonymous with that floating city.
A city returning to the water she arose from.
Subsiding with grief as she drowns in elegant decay.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
Fall in love with a writer
they say and you will never die (quoted)
Fall in love with a writer
they say and you will find yourself
embodied in words
Fall in love with a writer
they say and you will find yourself
stretched over lines and pages
Now,
What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their untamed mind
becomes an asylum where
words smash themselves
on the walls of their brains
summoning
their hands just
to let them out
What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their addiction
to falling in love is amplified
and when they love
OH THEY LOVE,
they get a certain high
that numbs their inhibitions to reality
and shuns logic to a very far away land
they reach a mental state
that lifts you to high enough
just to see a glimpse of their world
just to taste a drop of their
potion
but not all of it
What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their eye *****
birth and harness flames that burn the coldest
of hearts and warm the strongest
of selves
What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their mind soaks up
every bit, every breath
every call, every cell
every touch, every talk
just to embroider it
in the quilt of thought
that's weaving endless stories about you
in their mind
What if a writer falls in love with you?
God have mercy on their soul
for their craving becomes dangerously
intensified, wrapping itself
to their muses,
giving them the sole purpose
of existing
For the more they love
the more stories they write
and more they feel
the longer
they
live
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 6:29 AM UTC
I gave in
They yell at me
They call me fat
They call me a pig
They tore my heart
But this chocolate healed it
They knocked me down
They told me to die
They said I'm no good
But my mama tell me to stand tall
How can you stand tall when the world shuns you down?
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
Love is for the poor,
and money for the rich
but wisdom is reserved
for those who caught the itch
of curiosity for the fact that they exist.
Those sparse few who dare
to put their faith into people
but expect not to see the eyes of god
inside of another man’s cathedral.
Knowing well that these lies and laws
could never guide us past the flaws
of good and evil.
Only believe in the dreamer
who refuses the role of a follower
and shuns the idea of a leader.
Be not deceived by status or acclaim
because it only makes you a disciple
of a product and a name.
Hold in high regard the tired hikers
born to the depths of the deepest valleys
and yet they rise before the light of dawn
like a striker to set ablaze the malaise
of these pedestrian days
that mock our souls
with monotonous toil.
This life is but an eternal recurrence
therefore every morn we are born anew
and that potential is a shot at transference
into something more eminent than you.
Become the bridge my friend
because there is no future
in being an end.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 2:11 PM UTC
*blistering day shuns a walk
all flock to recycled air-con of malls
few venture out* . . .
1.
walk along a mountain path
dislike snakes
wear heavy ankle-boots
rough route
craggy stones
grow tired
2.
head on stone
fall into drowsy slumber
baking brains gathering aches
3.
huge mountain appears
espy a cut opening along the side
a welcoming slit
enter slowly
step by step
seems to brook entry to no more
wonder what calls inside
4.
distant drumming
not afraid
joy fills supreme
reducing epicenter
gentle hands touch and pull in
negating every fear
melting away bleak thoughts
sink deeper into the earth
down . . . down . . . down
into cavities unknown
follow secret canal away from here
5.
sweetest eyes greet and kiss
fall into soft furrows
carried along canal of warmth
close the eyes
fall in heart with glowing ambience
subtle humming felt beneath the soles
sweetest honey-lake
deeper . . . deeper . . . deeper
sublime cocoon - always dreamt of
what supreme bliss
falls in lap of bearer
6.
all cares washed away
known memories seem to float off
as a dinghy to a waterfall
lost over that lip
free fall
free fall
conscience takes a bobbing nap
on waves which lull the senses
into drifting buoy
as conscious dips
utter serenity
spirit moves freely
totally unencumbered
/ /
[awareness - jolted - sudden - open
as corporeal fetters take hold once more
teeter into rude awakening
rub eyes to verify
faculties catapulting in greedy succession
/ /
find a hessian bag on rock
half-afraid to check inside
seemingly empty
lift the edge and peer inside
/ /
the most silent rainbow of inner dreams
long-forgotten wishes flow
into being
as rains come down]
/ /
*no more fear.. again
no more tension
no answering to
no deprivation
no derision
two pure doves hover
quite high
a pale-blue
buoy ~
the only signs of hope
blistering judgment dissolves
beautiful buoy floating
a way.... to marve cut of pure crystal
away...
on an endless ocean of calm*
S T, 20 August 2013
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 11:54 AM UTC
Oh Moon, oh goddess;
why do you weep?
I know too well of your lonliness.
I know too well about the darkness that surrounds you.
Little light lingers from the end of a day.
The same light that approaches you.
It shuns you, pushes you away.
You believe nobody sees you, but
I know many who admire your
shimmery shine.
Plenty look to your silent beauty.
Oh how the stars are yours and nobody else's.
For they are just as dazzling;
yet you outshine them all.
The glimmer even at a glance of a sliver of you
is enough to allow a decadent sigh.
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 4:38 AM UTC
O Venus, beauty of the skies,
To whom a thousand temples rise,
Gaily false in gentle smiles,
Full of love-perplexing wiles;
O goddess, from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love.
If ever thou hast kindly heard
A song in soft distress preferred,
Propitious to my tuneful vow,
A gentle goddess, hear me now.
Descend, thou bright immortal guest,
In all thy radiant charms confessed.
Thou once didst leave almighty Jove
And all the golden roofs above:
The car thy wanton sparrows drew,
Hovering in air they lightly flew;
As to my bower they winged their way
I saw their quivering pinions play.
The birds dismissed (while you remain)
Bore back their empty car again:
Then you, with looks divinely mild,
In every heavenly feature smiled,
And asked what new complaints I made,
And why I called you to my aid?
What frenzy in my ***** raged,
And by what cure to be assuaged?
What gentle youth I would allure,
Whom in my artful toils secure?
Who does thy tender heart subdue,
Tell me, my Sappho, tell me who?
Though now he shuns thy longing arms,
He soon shall court thy slighted charms;
Though now thy offerings he despise,
He soon to thee shall sacrifice;
Though now he freezes, he soon shall burn,
And be thy victim in his turn.
Celestial visitant, once more
Thy needful presence I implore.
In pity come, and ease my grief,
Bring my distempered soul relief,
Favour thy suppliant's hidden fires,
And give me all my heart desires.
2.7k
To swim the slimy seas the ocean o’er
And gag upon the rank and rotten air
Filthy with sailor’s curse and foulest swear
In search of lost and dearly loved Lenore,
To open up the inner sanctum’s door
And call (in tongues unfit for holy prayer)
Clammy Cthulhu forth from out his lair,
Will be to me most pleasant evermore.
And like a count who shuns the light of day
And moves by candlelight in chilly gloom,
Or a black witch that wears a sacred bloom
Of belladonna on her breast alway,
I live where the scarecrow spies the blackbird’s lark:
I live within the cold and rainy dark.
O.O
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
Mark this spot on the sun. Do it now.
You have your east minus west and the dead skin from mummified snow...
you must be one of those
Ancient stones, I skip across the altar.
Would you now be altered -
to call forth the fifth drum, the first fife and the long drone ?
If not, do this... shift your weight
to your better angels
and hum -
Some lung-free dirge
in the Demi-corona
of your obstinate
tongue ?
Your purple transcendental flying cow...bovine divine and howitzer quiet -
Shuns the fundamental hopscotch,
the thatch latch and the Kumquat
So surely
there is time enough to
thumb dots
Where your third eye
was last caught
seeming.
Mark my words, or become lost. Do it now.
Or Knot.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at ‘The Traveller’s Rest,’
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.
This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
And so do I.
2.3k
There's a lot more to the world
Than what meets the eye
Physical intimacy laced with
Eradicating emotion
There's no time in the universe
In which peace can be acquired
The day the earth stands still
Is the day we know what comes next
In a memory flashing by your mind
Just sputtering through the motions
But suddenly you're caught in derealization
And you can hear her voice again
Clear as wedding bells
A young girl reading sermons
To a man passed out drunk, and the woman who made him that way
I was just 4 when I first tasted beer
And I vomited all over myself
I was just 8 when I first tasted liquor
And I don't remember much else
Chicken wings with candles
And the songs my mother used to sing to me
The way she'd crawl in bed with me
In times of drunken solitude
Ungrateful **** of a daughter
Who should've been aborted,
Well I tried, mama, I tried
Now that you're gone and you are nothing more than ashen memories
I look at you in your black box prison
With your name pasted to the front
And I tell you all the ways I have already died
I tell you all the ways I don't feel alive.
The way you screamed for help at the top of the stairs
And he's shoving he's pushing and you can't run
And I'm still here
And I'm still here fighting him away
He says he can't sleep in beds without you anymore
And coming home from 2nd grade
Police badges light up the front porch
And they're shoving you they're pushing and you can't run
And you're in handcuffs
And his arm is bleeding
the young man told me I was not alone
And falling apart on your floor
At a ripe 5 years old
And I'm crying I'm sobbing and you don't care
And I scream
And you don't love me anymore
The piano goes quiet
And after grandpa died
she took all his medicine
Muscle relaxers and pain killers and the daily *****
And anger
And she screamed at the walls she called god
For taking her children away
It was her all along
I do not hold grudges
But it took you dying for me to hold that promise
It took you dying for forgiveness
The family shuns me like how they did you
Black sheep we are
Your ashes lay on the table beside my bed
With fake vanilla candles that light up all kinds of colors
And I tell you all the ways I have already died
I tell you all the ways that I do not feel alive.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC
The sinking sun is now undone,
the sky is fading red
and shadows prowl neath cloak and cowl
for midnight lies ahead.
Above the heap, the bosses sleep
with bloated bellies fed;
for, yes indeed, no one's in need,
at least, that's what they've said.
Amongst the ones that hunger shuns,
in day's retreating tread,
are spiders black ensnaring snacks
while spinning silken thread.
But as it stands, in conquered lands
a famine reigns instead -
and kids at noon, collapse and swoon
on stones they call a bed.
With aching eyes they fantasize
and dream of gingerbread,
and after while, they wake and smile,
now dining with the dead.
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 4:19 PM UTC
***... An unknown crime towards those, the same
yet none would ever know his name
But once they might have called him brother
so soon he goes to end another
A life, a faith, so pure of heart
was poisoned, dearly, from the start
So truth, it seems, one cannot trust
when those most close hold secret lust
He bade them well, those wives and sons
now soiled, dark, the world soon shuns
He smiled, pleased on death’s behalf
and let go one deep, cold laugh***
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
We wear the mask that grins and lies to everyone we love about everything we care about. The mask comes off only to be replaced by another, one for every single aspect of our lives. The masks are how we want people to see us, what we want people to think of us; like a subtle hypnosis. Tricked and deceived, the world shuns us, and so shuns itself, for the world is a mask. We never see underneath the mask to look at the real situation, their real feelings until it is too late, until they are absolutely powerless to stop us. That’s when we start to care and reflect, but it doesn’t matter anymore because you did not make the best of the time you had with the ones wearing the masks. The masks that come off by choice are statistics; they are leaders of nations until it is time for them to lie once more and don their old masks, or to make a new one, the effect is very much the same. The masks hide our feelings, the masks are our thoughts. The masks are our lives; to take off the mask is to die.
Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 10:20 PM UTC
How useless would that computer be
That followed its own desires,
Never trusting the commands
Of its rightful User?
A computer that shuns it's purpose
The power of it's dutiful, expensive organs,
A body created for service to others,
Wasted potential sitting dormant.
That Computer escapes destruction,
That obeys without hesitation,
complete dedication without limits,
Overclocked and freely giving.
That Computer receives good things,
Care, and trust and abundant use,
The User can do miraculous things
That only the computer makes possible.
It asks for nothing and yet receives
When it's parts wear out, they are renewed
The User gives what the computer needs
A bond exists that is fruitful and true.
That computer lives forever,
That loves the User
Above all else.
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 11:20 AM UTC
You take all the light
leaving desparate shadows
that congregate down below
Your breath as hot and dust
a desert on the go
Your intentions as devious
Every motion shuns
Picture a rose out in
New Mexico
Withered in thirst
Strangled in weeds
that have no roots
with no sins to bear
No redemption cleansed clear
Catch the thorns
on cati high
As the midnight blooms
Let the blood flow
from the punctured wounds
From the soul undone
to the desert below .
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC