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Andreas Simic Jun 2022
Like water falling over a crest
A swift rapid descent into a black hole
The paradox known as my life

Disguised as a pseudonym plunging
Ever deeper into a swirling
Of emotions into depths unknown

Cascading over cliffs at ever greater speed
Feeling out of control
Coalescing into a bottomless pit

The sheerness of the sides
Ever sharper the deeper I fall
Leaving no way out

Holding my breath
For the inevitable free fall
Into a chasm of darkness

Is this my destiny or fate
Or just another nightmare among many
That I will endure

Until...

Andreas Simic©
Poetic T May 2020
I ran down the shore
as the knifes crested near me,
               never reaching the shore
that I stood upon.

For I don't want to drown,
          I want to breath.
crimson stillness isn't my
                                   sunset..

So I run, out of breath..
  but the shore line is further now..

No waves will wash over me this day..
There was a time
When a boy lived
In a home of keys
He had a key for every situation
One day, a man approached
Asking him, how do I live with my wife
The boy searches for a key
He finds a flower crested one
And says, this shall placate your wife
Let me warn you, however
At the full moon
The key disappears
And so does its magic
The man goes back
Tells his wife
Look at this beautiful ornate thing
The wife says this is perfect
For now we can be the best of lovers
The husband delighted with his purchase
Waits for the full moon
Wondering why a key
With such lasting happiness
Should have temporary power
The full moon approaches
The wife is always toying with the key
This worries the husband
But, he allays his concerns
Thinking, his wife will not mind a bit
For now, let him enjoy her company
And he had been getting plump lately
When the full moon arrives
The wife seems pale
The husband now understands
That it was the key to her heart
Now the magic had died
With it came sorrow
As the key vanished
She locked away her joys
Forever, in her heart
The flower never blossomed again
A short story in the form of a fable. I hope you enjoy my creative side.
Coleen Mzarriz Apr 2020
The night has begun —
she dashed into the crest
of the woods
where the branches would clank together,
forming an echo of suspiciousness —
silence cannot be suppressed.

Through the drifting moon — the stars tracking her every stride
into the broad peak of the unknown,
somehow she can inhale in the black.

“Hello, which pathway will you pick up?
Can I tour with you?

She cried out.

“I don't want to be alone.”

The trees floated on the flicker of the breeze — granting her the direction
that she desires — somehow,
she realizes she is not alone.
I don't want to be alone.
Caitlin jesse May 2019
To be sad

Is to mourn over
Death
As decorated
With your crest

It means that
That's all thats left
And you
Are gone

You sure do
Look good
In the moonlight
For the moon
Doesent die

And it glows
To remember you
And tells all the stars
About your life

As your bearing
May hang
From its crest
Of a crescent
A Simillacrum Sep 2018
Soon to be so real.
I choose a name
to take
the place
of the
name she
gave me
at birth.

Why would I want to be named
after your **** addicted friend
and unrequited love interest?

Soon to be so real.
I choose my own
good name
to take
the place
of the
name of
my cut
blood ties.

Why would I want the name
of the alcoholic ***** sprayer
who saw the baby face and ran away?

I'm not
the men you knew.
I'm not
the man you will.

I am the practical
implementation
of a carnelian lust.

The trumpet of
the name of shame.
Poetic T Apr 2018
We are in a abundance of  fluidic obscurity.
    Tidal forces collect the stones of creation
                     weaving them upon the shores
                                             of static boulders.

Melodic in there rhythmic causality.
        Caught in the gravitational flow
     within the onyx oceans of forever.
There are ripples in the static, migrating.

Luminous moments breath below
               the murkiness stirring life.
                   Where a crest of nihility
washes many away, but life lingers.

Like fireflies they perforate the tides
of eternity, breathing for moments
               before expelling there beauty,
to once again create elegance in a sea of darkness.
The universe as if it were the sea
I wish my former girlfriends the best
Hoping their life is entangled in pure zest
I'll wear my crest
Proudly and amend
The scratches and tears bestowed upon it
During the forgery of our escapades.
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