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Time of sorrowing,
My words wander through
The vast emptiness of dark stars
And blood stained carnations.
Come my black hearted lover,
The great sorrow is our forest,
The blessed truth of a drifting
Reality beyond the villains of love.
A raven flies from tree to tree
And greets the infinity of your soul,
Which is just as nocturnal
As the black rose unseen
As though a queen was dying;
Oh beloved embrace your darkness.

Look, I see your eyes deep,
Free your fiery hair to the wind
So that it may shade the sun,
The wild magnificence of your
Womanhood which is like
Silken flattery of crimson kisses
From the moist of your lips.
I will catch Oscura,
The Dark Star and enchant
Him with your black eyes,
The sweet season of the nocturnes!

There is a cavern
That surges with a dark glow
And beautiful dark elves play
There in a spring of water
Naked and playful,
They caress the darkness
And you are their Queen.
You were there since before
You were born in the crystalline
Lament of the dark glow
From the days of antiquity
When the first words were yet
To be spoken and you flattered
Even the Poet Saints.

Oh Dark One,
The shadow of your breast
Under the howling moon
Where dragons sing a fiery
Hymn over sonorous waters
With wings of scales.
See the dark stars glow
Blood red to honor your beauty,
It is the harmony of the night
In a cluster of lightless constellations,
The fragrance of nightingales
And the souls dancing under
Your very eyes.

Do you see the night?
I am one with you lover,
The pale moonlight swells
Under my manly throat as I
Speak the forsaken language
Of the night, the soft kiss
Of the dusk vibrates within
Me as I ****** your body
To the music of the dead.
Close your eyes lover,
Blessed darkness awaits
As the universe pours itself
Into our bodies and bound
Us into the sacred night.....
Yeah, I'm seeing these bags underneath my eyes
but don't worry they aren't leaving me blind
I'm just so tired of the sleepless nights
because you're stuck on my mind
and I'm feeling frightened,
I wish you were near
but you're not here
you're anywhere

You're at an anywhere
that's so far away from me,
it's unclear.
I don't think about the number eighteen much,
but the one numbered eighteen fills my mind.
Eighteen years, fourteen letters, five days.
I never got numbers, but your numbers have got me
trapped in a whirlwind of old stories and little facts.
I think about how many kisses, lovers, fights, quiet conversations you've had.
I'm trapped in a flurry of numbers.
I'm happy there,
but you're more interested in the colours of someone else,
her eyes, her lips, her skin.
I'm trapped in a flurry of numbers,
and you're running free in a spectrum of colours.
For the longest time,
I thought that people
with brown eyes were't
as interesting as those
without. But, you see,
the reason those eyes are
so dark is because
they've seen too many
things, and they know too
much. Brown eyes are
the see all and know all.
They never miss a thing.
You can't keep a secret
from their depths.
Do not be fooled by the
murkiness of the waters.
For the lake they contain
is deeper than it seems.
it's late and i'm thinking
I'd like to feel your love.
I told myself once in a while would be enough,
But I keep craving it, now that I know that you're mine.

Are you truly mine? I ask over and over again.
It feels like I am yours. Just yours.
And you gave nothing else for me.

I wandered. I ran.
I got lost, and it was silly of me to think you'd come and find me.
I always knew you'd let me slip off your hands when you had the chance

I'd like to feel your love.
I said to you once or twice.
You told me that you already do, with all the physical objects, sweet messages and the apologies you gave me for everything.
Is that not love? You ask me
I agreed because the way you said it made me crumble onto your arms once more

Such foolishness that I always fall for your flowery words
Maybe it's because I'd like to think of them as comforting kisses and embraces when you're not there to calm me down in the late hours.

It's strange that we do anything to be there for a person who's usually not going to move an inch to wipe away your tears.

I love you, I truly do.
I even wished that you did too.
But will you ever make that come true?
An old poem I made.
I never knew how to love myself
Ending up trying but I just loathe myself
Some say it's insecurity
And some say I need help

It's kind of difficult
All these battles I've fought,
Internally...
But I'll admit it's still hurting me

The decisions I've made in the past
The mistakes I can't take back
Secrets no soul will ever know
Stories that will never be told

Wondering how did I let it get this far
How did I let it get this hard
To be happy and open up
Every time I try I get choked up

Buried inside my own soul
Regrets I have to let go
How can I tell my truth,
Without losing you?
This was a struggle to write since I haven't wrote anything in awhile and the raw emotions in this made it difficult.
Best and brightest, come away,
Fairer far than this fair day,
Which, like thee, to those in sorrow
Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow
To the rough year just awake
In its cradle on the brake.
The brightest hour of unborn Spring
Through the Winter wandering,
Found, it seems, the halcyon morn
To **** February born;
Bending from Heaven, in azure mirth,
It kissed the forehead of the earth,
And smiled upon the silent sea,
And bade the frozen streams be free,
And waked to music all their fountains,
And breathed upon the frozen mountains,
And like a prophetess of May
Strewed flowers upon the barren way,
Making the wintry world appear
Like one on whom thou smilest, dear.

Away, away, from men and towns,
To the wild wood and the downs -
To the silent wilderness
Where the soul need not repress
Its music, lest it should not find
An echo in another’s mind,
While the touch of Nature’s art
Harmonizes heart to heart.

Radiant Sister of the Day
Awake! arise! and come away!
To the wild woods and the plains,
To the pools where winter rains
Image all their roof of leaves,
Where the pine its garland weaves
Of sapless green, and ivy dun,
Round stems that never kiss the sun,
Where the lawns and pastures be
And the sandhills of the sea,
Where the melting ****-frost wets
The daisy-star that never sets,
And wind-flowers and violets
Which yet join not scent to hue
Crown the pale year weak and new;
When the night is left behind
In the deep east, dim and blind,
And the blue noon is over us,
And the multitudinous
Billows murmur at our feet,
Where the earth and ocean meet,
And all things seem only one
In the universal Sun.
Her eyes are almost dead,
Struggling to get out of bed.
As she begins to dress,
In the mirror she sees a mess.

There’s so much she can do,
But there’s also nothing to do.
Nothing at all gets done,
She clutches her head as it spun.
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