"sorrowfull" poems
your hands bend like twisted willow
on somber chains
my heart is mute and pale in presence
of your subtle anger
hidden
deeply rooted into
your beautiful eyes
I beg to go deeper
although I know the income
of my words will retalite
I know how they will scar
some crevice
and unknown part of me
yet to discover
dead
until you have awakened it
with that flesh on your face
that monstourus gaze
they will speak about me
say how I differ too much
how I speak to much of broken hearts
and sorrowfull songs
but I know to every real human heart
every one of my poems is but a childhood sing along
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 9:11 AM UTC
Savior that momento thou meanest man,
thou should knowest if this play it,
could I see if I can,
how sorrowfull is that time,
proclibities in Xibalba,
el Popul Vuh y la calma,
el examen de Julio,
y el invierno de Russia,
y la cara de nadie,
lo sustantivo y lo exacto,
futura experimenta recuerdas
mis manos, como no te ignore,
controlas mi fé,
Adultos se volveran poemas,
y los ojos veran atraves de
mañanas las terminables
distancias de encontrables
intructores.
Mañana
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
*tonight I can write,
of a disorder so monstrous,
I intermittently cannot tell,
if I want to laugh, cry, or die.
this wretched disorder is like,
being stabbed by your favorite person,
and laughing instead of crying.
everyday is a struggle to seem normal.
it's just so sorrowfull,
when your emotions are being juggled,
at the circus in your head.
my mind is like a battlefield in WW1.
but unlike the casualties,
the perpetually changing emotions live on.
tonight, even as I write,
my feelings will not stop bouncing around,
like children when they,
consume too much sugar.
the way I feel towards everything,
never stops changing.
everyday, every hours every minute,
my emotions never rest.
the brain within my skull,
commands me one moment to be euphoric,
and within 30 seconds,
says to be rancorous.
but tonight while I've written this,
these forever changing emotions,
did not win.
despite the war in my head,
I have kept the same mood.
this disorder will not end me.*
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC
Another sleepless night
filled with morbid memories
And sorrowfull moments
The only aid comes from
Gazing up at the bright night
At the buring souls
Or myths of old
But aid is only temporary
Soon the monsters approach
And the bright light dims
The only cause for my sorrow
Is my self
For i have lived a sinfull life
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 3:40 PM UTC
your hands bend like twisted willow
on somber chains
my heart is mute and pale in presence
of your subtle anger
hidden
deeply rooted into
your beautiful eyes
I beg to go deeper
although I know the income
of my words will retalite
I know how they will scar
some crevice
and unknown part of me
yet to discover
dead
until you have awakened it
with that flesh on your face
that monstourus gaze
they will speak about me
say how I differ too much
how I speak to much of broken hearts
and sorrowfull songs
but I know to every real human heart
every one of my poems is but a sing along
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 6:33 PM UTC
Why is my heart fetching on sorrows?
Why is the breath in my nostril
conterminated with the exhales of grief
Why is this melancholy sounds
within my spirit?
why is my heart singing sorrow?
upon whose grimaces does my smile sinks?
who is this singing sorrowfull songs
in the land where joy dwells
upon whose call does my joy vanish?
Who is this that whispers sorrow to my spirit?
upon whose touch i am
eerie shrieked???
Who is this that sings woe to my day?
Who?
Who?
Who pleasure in the raining of my tears?!
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 2:39 PM UTC
your hands bend like twisted willow
on somber chains
my heart is mute and pale in presence
of your subtle anger
hidden
deeply rooted into
your beautiful eyes
I beg to go deeper
although I know the income
of my words will retalite
I know how they will scar
some crevice
and unknown part of me
yet to discover
dead
until you have awakened it
with your skin
that monstourus gaze
they will speak about me
say how I differ too much
how I speak too much of broken hearts
and sorrowfull songs
but I know to every real human heart
every poem is but a sing along
Dec 6, 2010
Dec 6, 2010 at 12:28 PM UTC
"My footsteps silent as I walk this lonely and forgotten path. The sound of the wind my only company for this long and tired walk. Just a little more to go. Just a few steps more. I'm almost at the end. I've made it this far, I can't fail now. I approach the tree line, the exit right before me. A smile brightens up my sorrowfull face. I almost break into a sprint but am suddenly pulled down to my knees before my haven. I feel something gripping at my leg, pulling me back to my start. I put up a fight. I struggle. I'm trying to break free. My voice comes out as a silent scream, echoing through the very depths of my mind. I was so close. So close... As I feel my body dragged away from my destination, I slowly start to give in to the despair that had been chasing, taunting and tormenting me. But as I do, I hear the faint sound of a bell, a soft ringing in the back of my mind. I know not of what it is but it sparked something inside of my fragile mind. I break free from that which tried to pull me back to square one, as I hear the name I gave up whispering through the trees. No. I will not fall back into my despair. A break into a run this time, fleeing from the thing that tried to drag me back. I can feel it continuing to give chase, slithering after me like a serpant ready to strike its prey. I hear the name I no longer hold echoing more, becoming more and more like a scream. The more I run, the more my destination seems to flee from me. I'm screaming again. No. No I will not let you go. My feet seemed to fly as I ran, the sepant of despair right on my heels. I can see it. I see it clearly. The opened arms of my happiness ready to catch me, calling out the true name. My face brightens and I forget about the serpant about to drag me back. I take a leap, a leap towards happiness. A leap towards a better life. And the serpant falls back down to the forest floor, defeated as the joy bringer holds me tightly in their arms. Yet the forest still grows, ready to consume with fiercer foes. But I will be ready to face them weither is be with company, or by my lonesome. Because now I have someone to fight for."
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 4:11 AM UTC