Ce sujet est fermé
A Ghost!
I walk through life unnoticed amongst the crowd I dwell
I see all that you do and all that they are
Hoping and wishing ambitions fade, trade in for ambiguity… for me.
You fail to see, I sit and wait… dirty eyes that blind
A ghost of shadows is what has been and been has all been lies
Look inwards to your dreams and see the putrid ties
I hate you, I love you, I need you, I am you
You are what I’ve been and should you find the mark,
Strike with vengeance to kill for I am you, what to do is kill or be killed
Never know, the remorse they show after it’s all said and done.
Life treats us all like ghosts… or am I the only one.
Poetry: yours or published.
Débuté par
Dark Lilith
, janv. 07 2010 08:00
Retour en haut
#77
Posté 10 janvier 2010 - 08:18
Dark Lilith
-
- Members
- 7 094 messages
nice,makes one think about all the possibilities.CaptainProphesy wrote...
A Ghost!
I walk through life unnoticed amongst the crowd I dwell
I see all that you do and all that they are
Hoping and wishing ambitions fade, trade in for ambiguity… for me.
You fail to see, I sit and wait… dirty eyes that blind
A ghost of shadows is what has been and been has all been lies
Look inwards to your dreams and see the putrid ties
I hate you, I love you, I need you, I am you
You are what I’ve been and should you find the mark,
Strike with vengeance to kill for I am you, what to do is kill or be killed
Never know, the remorse they show after it’s all said and done.
Life treats us all like ghosts… or am I the only one.
#78
Guest_VanguardOfDestruction_*
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 01:32
Guest_VanguardOfDestruction_*
Guest_VanguardOfDestruction_*
-
- Guests
A Place...
Let's go to a place
the eye cannot see.
A place stricly for
you and me.
A place beyond
the reaches of our touch.
A place for only me and you
I need you oh so much.
A place beyond
the capture of an ear.
A place not here
nor over there.
A place beyond
the sense of smell.
Such a place exists?
I cannot tell.
A place beyond
the love of our hearts.
That place doesnt exist
or we'd be taken apart.
I can't find it.
Guide me through it all
Bypass any obstacle
Obstacles big and small.
Maybe we should just stay here
That place is simply not near...
Let's go to a place
the eye cannot see.
A place stricly for
you and me.
A place beyond
the reaches of our touch.
A place for only me and you
I need you oh so much.
A place beyond
the capture of an ear.
A place not here
nor over there.
A place beyond
the sense of smell.
Such a place exists?
I cannot tell.
A place beyond
the love of our hearts.
That place doesnt exist
or we'd be taken apart.
I can't find it.
Guide me through it all
Bypass any obstacle
Obstacles big and small.
Maybe we should just stay here
That place is simply not near...
#79
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 02:03
Dark Lilith
-
- Members
- 7 094 messages
Just beautiful.VanguardOfDestruction wrote...
A Place...
Let's go to a place
the eye cannot see.
A place stricly for
you and me.
A place beyond
the reaches of our touch.
A place for only me and you
I need you oh so much.
A place beyond
the capture of an ear.
A place not here
nor over there.
A place beyond
the sense of smell.
Such a place exists?
I cannot tell.
A place beyond
the love of our hearts.
That place doesnt exist
or we'd be taken apart.
I can't find it.
Guide me through it all
Bypass any obstacle
Obstacles big and small.
Maybe we should just stay here
That place is simply not near...
#80
Guest_MrHimuraChan_*
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 02:21
Guest_MrHimuraChan_*
Guest_MrHimuraChan_*
-
- Guests
VanguardOfDestruction wrote...
A Place...
Let's go to a place
the eye cannot see.
A place stricly for
you and me.
A place beyond
the reaches of our touch.
A place for only me and you
I need you oh so much.
A place beyond
the capture of an ear.
A place not here
nor over there.
A place beyond
the sense of smell.
Such a place exists?
I cannot tell.
A place beyond
the love of our hearts.
That place doesnt exist
or we'd be taken apart.
I can't find it.
Guide me through it all
Bypass any obstacle
Obstacles big and small.
Maybe we should just stay here
That place is simply not near...
So beautiful... I envy you people. Everything i try to write ends up looking as exciting as a instruction manual...
#81
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 02:48
Sa Seba
-
- Members
- 504 messages
Truly beautiful poems you guys write. Thanks for sharing!
I am afraid to write, because that means opening a flood gate of build up emotions.
I am afraid to write, because that means opening a flood gate of build up emotions.
#82
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 03:05
Dark Lilith
-
- Members
- 7 094 messages
thats good.I write to help deal and cope with my emotions and things going on in my life.its a great way to get in touch with your emotions and to heal yourself as well.Sa Seba wrote...
Truly beautiful poems you guys write. Thanks for sharing!
I am afraid to write, because that means opening a flood gate of build up emotions.
#83
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 04:51
Jae Onasi
-
- Members
- 236 messages
I took creative writing at a local college last spring for fun. We wrote a variety of different pieces--short stories, a long project (the start of a fantasy novel in my case), and some poetry. For my final portfolio, I included a free-form poem called Symphonic Metal, written after a friend introduced me to the bands Epica and Kamelot. I also submitted a villanelle in memory of Paul Harvey, who had passed away not long before the end of our class.
Intersect
Mozart-classic, Kamelot-rock.
Intersect
Lyric soprano, growling screamer
Intersect
Lingering legato viola, staccato snap of snares
Intersect
Cello bows caressing strings, fingers flying across electric frets
Arpeggios weave through Epica and Faust, dancing a spiraling waltz.
For Paul Harvey
The radio stations no longer play
“The Rest of the Story”, nor do we hear
“Good Day!”
He left with too much to say.
Amusing anecdotes from yesteryear
No longer play.
His words wove color and light into gray
news, adventures blazed with his dear
“Good Day!”
No one else could parlay
A phrase and a pause into tales of cheer
That no longer play.
Gone is “Stand by for News!” at midday,
a laugh at stupid criminals, a tender tale, and his clear
“Good Day!”
His yarns and “Page two!” have faded away,
A piece of my youth vanished when he left here.
The radio stations no longer play
“Paul Harvey. Good Day!”
Intersect
Mozart-classic, Kamelot-rock.
Intersect
Lyric soprano, growling screamer
Intersect
Lingering legato viola, staccato snap of snares
Intersect
Cello bows caressing strings, fingers flying across electric frets
Arpeggios weave through Epica and Faust, dancing a spiraling waltz.
For Paul Harvey
The radio stations no longer play
“The Rest of the Story”, nor do we hear
“Good Day!”
He left with too much to say.
Amusing anecdotes from yesteryear
No longer play.
His words wove color and light into gray
news, adventures blazed with his dear
“Good Day!”
No one else could parlay
A phrase and a pause into tales of cheer
That no longer play.
Gone is “Stand by for News!” at midday,
a laugh at stupid criminals, a tender tale, and his clear
“Good Day!”
His yarns and “Page two!” have faded away,
A piece of my youth vanished when he left here.
The radio stations no longer play
“Paul Harvey. Good Day!”
Modifié par Jae Onasi, 11 janvier 2010 - 04:55 .
#84
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 08:12
Skydiver8888
-
- Members
- 379 messages
wrote this in about 10 minutes just now, after an afternoon in the bokstore. Trues story, this:
I saw your twin today
reading a newspaper and drinking a latte
oblivious of my regard.
I was at the bookstore
killing the day
reading a bad novel.
I had no intention of buying it.
Just sitting there reading,
I wasn't thinking of you
for once. But there,
There you were.
Checking the sports scores.
Your eyes, blue and clear.
Your nose, perfect.
Your mouth, quirked in the smile
That was yours alone.
I knew it wasn't you, just a twin,
But for a moment,
Just a moment,
I allowed myself to daydream.
To see you there before me.
Your eyes, looking into mine.
Your nose touching mine as we kiss.
Your mouth, quirked in the smile
That was for me alone.
I saw your twin today
and it made me miss you
all over again.
And I had to look twice,
Just to be sure.
I saw your twin today
reading a newspaper and drinking a latte
oblivious of my regard.
I was at the bookstore
killing the day
reading a bad novel.
I had no intention of buying it.
Just sitting there reading,
I wasn't thinking of you
for once. But there,
There you were.
Checking the sports scores.
Your eyes, blue and clear.
Your nose, perfect.
Your mouth, quirked in the smile
That was yours alone.
I knew it wasn't you, just a twin,
But for a moment,
Just a moment,
I allowed myself to daydream.
To see you there before me.
Your eyes, looking into mine.
Your nose touching mine as we kiss.
Your mouth, quirked in the smile
That was for me alone.
I saw your twin today
and it made me miss you
all over again.
And I had to look twice,
Just to be sure.
Modifié par Skydiver8888, 11 janvier 2010 - 09:01 .
#85
Guest_VanguardOfDestruction_*
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 11:24
Guest_VanguardOfDestruction_*
Guest_VanguardOfDestruction_*
-
- Guests
Thanks guys!!!
And it your poems dont always have to be about your feelings. Just pick one object in the world and go to town on it, so to speak. You may find it easier if you are afraid about people judging you for you feelings...but hey, its a forum...I highly doubt we are ever gonna see each other, it okay...
)
And it your poems dont always have to be about your feelings. Just pick one object in the world and go to town on it, so to speak. You may find it easier if you are afraid about people judging you for you feelings...but hey, its a forum...I highly doubt we are ever gonna see each other, it okay...
)
#86
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 02:03
Dark Lilith
-
- Members
- 7 094 messages
thats true,write about whatever you wish.VanguardOfDestruction wrote...
Thanks guys!!!
And it your poems dont always have to be about your feelings. Just pick one object in the world and go to town on it, so to speak. You may find it easier if you are afraid about people judging you for you feelings...but hey, its a forum...I highly doubt we are ever gonna see each other, it okay...
so far I've seen some cool things here.The Paul harvey one was very cool indeed!
#87
Guest_Obtusifolius_*
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 07:14
Guest_Obtusifolius_*
Guest_Obtusifolius_*
-
- Guests
Sonnet, written for college:
Bunk Bed
The upper white mattress blanketed red
One flat little bunk bed learned another
Half-disposed of, half-dismantled, half-dead
Half-cover your eyes, peel back the cover:
Quiet and limp, in excruciating repose
Slumped brokenly, its planked spine split in two
Covered with mildew-beige sheets to its nose
Obscuring the patchwork entrails from view
A mottled green mattress, bloated remains
Blackened, pocked and cratered white tar beneath
Maggots salvage morsels from moist brown stains
And the cloth shrinks back from rotting grey teeth
Bolts, knuckles, splintered orange pinewood bone
Now sighing in silence, now sleeping alone.
Free Verse, written for college - true story about my late grandfather, who was convinced my father had turned his house into a brothel and I was a prostitute, a result of his advancing dementia:
Considering You Didn’t Know Who I Was
You were in the kitchen with Dad.
I was in the living room, watching
Some programme or another.
I could hear him shouting,
And I turned down the telly to listen in.
After a while, you shuffled in.
I gave you the remote to keep you quiet
(You were quite deaf, so
It was easier not to try
To talk)
But you leaned over and informed me
That you wouldn’t tolerate my working as a prostitute from your home.
Of course, I saw the funny side and
Laughing told you I wasn’t.
You peered closely
Asking who I was.
‘I’m your granddaughter,’
I said.
You weren’t satisfied.
‘It’s possible to be two things
At the same time,’
You said.
I’ve got to say
I was impressed by your logic.
List poem exercise, unfinished, written for college:
Woodland Walk
Walking through the woods
I saw these things:
A deer’s leg, in the river, cut from the knee down;
A cluster of feathers stuck together with flesh;
Initials in a heart carved on a tree
By a sandstone embankment with human-sized holes;
Caterpillars dangling by silk from twigs;
And a spike-ankled hen on a piece of stick
Vilanelle (very complex form, very bloody hard to write!) written for college:
A Shame
You rarely raised your hand to me most days
But you never were yourself when you were pissed
A shame my face had to get in the way
You easily convinced me I should stay
It was easy to forget it when we kissed
And you rarely raised your hand to me most days.
For weeks, sometimes, we’d get along OK
I know you tried your utmost to desist
But then – a shame – my face got in the way
I disguised, with expert hands, each bruise, each graze
My face was well acquainted with your fist
Though you rarely raised your hand to me most days.
Who’s to say it was your fault, anyway
That time you accidentally broke my wrist?
Stupid me, for letting it get in the way
I should have made a quicker getaway
Tried harder, when you pleaded, to resist
But you rarely raised your hand to me most days –
It’s a shame I let my face get in your way
Bunk Bed
The upper white mattress blanketed red
One flat little bunk bed learned another
Half-disposed of, half-dismantled, half-dead
Half-cover your eyes, peel back the cover:
Quiet and limp, in excruciating repose
Slumped brokenly, its planked spine split in two
Covered with mildew-beige sheets to its nose
Obscuring the patchwork entrails from view
A mottled green mattress, bloated remains
Blackened, pocked and cratered white tar beneath
Maggots salvage morsels from moist brown stains
And the cloth shrinks back from rotting grey teeth
Bolts, knuckles, splintered orange pinewood bone
Now sighing in silence, now sleeping alone.
Free Verse, written for college - true story about my late grandfather, who was convinced my father had turned his house into a brothel and I was a prostitute, a result of his advancing dementia:
Considering You Didn’t Know Who I Was
You were in the kitchen with Dad.
I was in the living room, watching
Some programme or another.
I could hear him shouting,
And I turned down the telly to listen in.
After a while, you shuffled in.
I gave you the remote to keep you quiet
(You were quite deaf, so
It was easier not to try
To talk)
But you leaned over and informed me
That you wouldn’t tolerate my working as a prostitute from your home.
Of course, I saw the funny side and
Laughing told you I wasn’t.
You peered closely
Asking who I was.
‘I’m your granddaughter,’
I said.
You weren’t satisfied.
‘It’s possible to be two things
At the same time,’
You said.
I’ve got to say
I was impressed by your logic.
List poem exercise, unfinished, written for college:
Woodland Walk
Walking through the woods
I saw these things:
A deer’s leg, in the river, cut from the knee down;
A cluster of feathers stuck together with flesh;
Initials in a heart carved on a tree
By a sandstone embankment with human-sized holes;
Caterpillars dangling by silk from twigs;
And a spike-ankled hen on a piece of stick
Vilanelle (very complex form, very bloody hard to write!) written for college:
A Shame
You rarely raised your hand to me most days
But you never were yourself when you were pissed
A shame my face had to get in the way
You easily convinced me I should stay
It was easy to forget it when we kissed
And you rarely raised your hand to me most days.
For weeks, sometimes, we’d get along OK
I know you tried your utmost to desist
But then – a shame – my face got in the way
I disguised, with expert hands, each bruise, each graze
My face was well acquainted with your fist
Though you rarely raised your hand to me most days.
Who’s to say it was your fault, anyway
That time you accidentally broke my wrist?
Stupid me, for letting it get in the way
I should have made a quicker getaway
Tried harder, when you pleaded, to resist
But you rarely raised your hand to me most days –
It’s a shame I let my face get in your way
Modifié par Obtusifolius, 11 janvier 2010 - 07:22 .
#89
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 07:17
SpankyV
-
- Members
- 198 messages
Obtusifolius wrote...
Sonnet, written for college:
Bunk Bed
The upper white mattress blanketed red
One flat little bunk bed learned another
Half-disposed of, half-dismantled, half-dead
Half-cover your eyes, peel back the cover:
Quiet and limp, in excruciating repose
Slumped brokenly, its planked spine split in two
Covered with mildew-beige sheets to its nose
Obscuring the patchwork entrails from view
A mottled green mattress, bloated remains
Blackened, pocked and cratered white tar beneath
Maggots salvage morsels from moist brown stains
And the cloth shrinks back from rotting grey teeth
Bolts, knuckles, splintered orange pinewood bone
Now sighing in silence, now sleeping alone.
Whoa!
I've never felt so bad for a piece of furniture before.
Well done!
#90
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 07:28
darkshadow136
-
- Members
- 1 796 messages
The Darkness:
My soul encompassed by darkness
only lit by the pale light of an in shadowed moon
showing no pain or sorrow
except for the tears of a tormented sky
only broken by the trauma
which strikes as lightning does the ground
I exist here in uncertainty
As I grasp for my purpose of being
is this me or am I more
the storm covers me in it's rage
as I search for some peace and meaning
Is this all I am or is there still more
to put upon this page, of all the
sensations I've felt contentment and
fulfillment has eluded me
The storm has taken over me
all that is left is the pale moon
and the tears shed from it's confinement
to this rage filled sky that fills me
with darkness unending
Is this my life before me
or just a dream of some
sacred torment.
I wrote this back in 2003
My soul encompassed by darkness
only lit by the pale light of an in shadowed moon
showing no pain or sorrow
except for the tears of a tormented sky
only broken by the trauma
which strikes as lightning does the ground
I exist here in uncertainty
As I grasp for my purpose of being
is this me or am I more
the storm covers me in it's rage
as I search for some peace and meaning
Is this all I am or is there still more
to put upon this page, of all the
sensations I've felt contentment and
fulfillment has eluded me
The storm has taken over me
all that is left is the pale moon
and the tears shed from it's confinement
to this rage filled sky that fills me
with darkness unending
Is this my life before me
or just a dream of some
sacred torment.
I wrote this back in 2003
#91
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 07:41
darkshadow136
-
- Members
- 1 796 messages
The Fallen:
I stand here empty, reaching
back to the memories of the fallen,
stricken with pain of my separated state
kneeling in battled with visions
of horror my eyes cant erase
Convulsing through the waves of agony,
cant scream, nor cry for I'm soulless,
fallen from on high, denied grace,
damned to eternal torment
Fiery hades is swallowed by the cataclysm
of my souls death cry, changed,
transformed like a creature from a cocoon,
wings no longer of an angel,
but of a beast, a mere shadow of my
former glory
My hell being memories of who I once was
and nevermore shall be, wanting destruction,
death, oh sweet death, but given unto
immortality cursed, with haunting fire
my only comfort, inhaling darkness,
releasing sin personified, silence,
no silence for all I hear are the
cry's of the fallen.
I wrote this in 2003
I stand here empty, reaching
back to the memories of the fallen,
stricken with pain of my separated state
kneeling in battled with visions
of horror my eyes cant erase
Convulsing through the waves of agony,
cant scream, nor cry for I'm soulless,
fallen from on high, denied grace,
damned to eternal torment
Fiery hades is swallowed by the cataclysm
of my souls death cry, changed,
transformed like a creature from a cocoon,
wings no longer of an angel,
but of a beast, a mere shadow of my
former glory
My hell being memories of who I once was
and nevermore shall be, wanting destruction,
death, oh sweet death, but given unto
immortality cursed, with haunting fire
my only comfort, inhaling darkness,
releasing sin personified, silence,
no silence for all I hear are the
cry's of the fallen.
I wrote this in 2003
Modifié par darkshadow136, 11 janvier 2010 - 07:45 .
#92
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 08:27
Dark Lilith
-
- Members
- 7 094 messages
some awesome poems,keep posting everyone,please!
Am I so truly
hard to see?
Do your eyes
betray?
Do my looks make
you timid?
Find the words hard
to say.
Do you take me
to bed nightly?
Caress me in
your dreams?
Do you fantasize
being inside me,
and reveling in
my screams?
Do you wonder how
I feel, my taste,
my touch, my kiss?
Can you picture us
together, in happiness
and bliss?
Do you see me
in your thoughts?
Do I fill up your
spare time?
Do you want
to hear me say,
"I love you",
and that you
are mine?
Am I so truly
hard to see?
Do your eyes
betray,
Am I so unobtainable,
why do you
stay away?
© Dezdimona 2009
Am I so truly
hard to see?
Do your eyes
betray?
Do my looks make
you timid?
Find the words hard
to say.
Do you take me
to bed nightly?
Caress me in
your dreams?
Do you fantasize
being inside me,
and reveling in
my screams?
Do you wonder how
I feel, my taste,
my touch, my kiss?
Can you picture us
together, in happiness
and bliss?
Do you see me
in your thoughts?
Do I fill up your
spare time?
Do you want
to hear me say,
"I love you",
and that you
are mine?
Am I so truly
hard to see?
Do your eyes
betray,
Am I so unobtainable,
why do you
stay away?
© Dezdimona 2009
#93
Guest_Maviarab_*
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 08:29
Guest_Maviarab_*
Guest_Maviarab_*
-
- Guests
wonderful Lilith...tempted to answer yes lol 
#94
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 08:34
Dark Lilith
-
- Members
- 7 094 messages
Maviarab wrote...
wonderful Lilith...tempted to answer yes lol
#95
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 08:36
Dennis Carpenter
-
- Members
- 807 messages
This is the only one I ever learnt
"The Daffodil Poem"
(by Sherwood's Mother, as recited by Sherwood)
High up grew a daffodil,
I couldn't hardly reach her
Said I to me I think I will
get it for my teacher
I clumb to get the daffodil
out on a limb so thin
I tumbled down like Jack and Jill
and skinned my little shin
And here's the pretty daffodil
I brought to my new teacher
I love her dear and I always will:
I'm awful glad to meetcha!!
"The Daffodil Poem"
(by Sherwood's Mother, as recited by Sherwood)
High up grew a daffodil,
I couldn't hardly reach her
Said I to me I think I will
get it for my teacher
I clumb to get the daffodil
out on a limb so thin
I tumbled down like Jack and Jill
and skinned my little shin
And here's the pretty daffodil
I brought to my new teacher
I love her dear and I always will:
I'm awful glad to meetcha!!
#96
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 09:12
SargeantRenegade
-
- Members
- 935 messages
Walled
In here, somewhere 'tween earth and sky
Four walls suspend this point in time
Removed from air, removed from light
Grey stone and bars prevent all flight.
I'm told I should think about why I'm in here
Not tally the days that pass with the year
One-ninety so far, with occasional word
About strength of a son, and injustices served.
Two-fortynine served in this damnable cage
Months of pacing around like a beast on display
Silver birds oft fly round here, their usual haunt
But their songs of blue sky and stiff breeze only taunt.
Another scratch made in the limestone and shale
It's been thirty such marks since I had any mail
The brickwork leers back 'til the birds sing lights out
Then the laughter of stone forms a deafening shout.
Three-seventy dinged, and the steel bars recede
"Utopia beckons!" the birds call. "Roam free!"
But granite leaves marks, the price of one's pride
Can a lion relearn what was lost while inside?
Out here, somewhere 'tween earth and sky
I sit and watch the world fly by
Though outside the walls I can be at last
They never break down. They always hold fast.
In here, somewhere 'tween earth and sky
Four walls suspend this point in time
Removed from air, removed from light
Grey stone and bars prevent all flight.
I'm told I should think about why I'm in here
Not tally the days that pass with the year
One-ninety so far, with occasional word
About strength of a son, and injustices served.
Two-fortynine served in this damnable cage
Months of pacing around like a beast on display
Silver birds oft fly round here, their usual haunt
But their songs of blue sky and stiff breeze only taunt.
Another scratch made in the limestone and shale
It's been thirty such marks since I had any mail
The brickwork leers back 'til the birds sing lights out
Then the laughter of stone forms a deafening shout.
Three-seventy dinged, and the steel bars recede
"Utopia beckons!" the birds call. "Roam free!"
But granite leaves marks, the price of one's pride
Can a lion relearn what was lost while inside?
Out here, somewhere 'tween earth and sky
I sit and watch the world fly by
Though outside the walls I can be at last
They never break down. They always hold fast.
![=]](https://lvlt.forum.bioware.com/public/style_emoticons/default/sideways.png)
#98
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 10:05
Dark Lilith
-
- Members
- 7 094 messages
roflSarevok Anchev wrote...
I really love Poe-a-tree !
Blood from my
dagger falls,
bloody hand prints
upon the walls!
My breath is
quick,
my heart does
race,
I saw the agony
etched on your
face!
Of little care
or troubled
heart,
for now we
shall never be
apart!
Slick with blood
and covered in
sweat,
oh longing love
least you
forget!
You were mine
before you were
hers,
I cut her throat,
and then cut
yours!
Call me fickle
or plain insane,
but she and you are
dead......
It's really all
the same!
© Dezdimona 2009
#99
Posté 11 janvier 2010 - 10:30
darkshadow136
-
- Members
- 1 796 messages
Suffocation:
I scream in erotic torment,
fire and ice run from my eyes,
as the beast rises from the pit,
a voice inside says life is death,
death is life, if eyes are the windows
to the soul, mine are tombstones
So much pain, so much loss,
why must I live in chained silence,
with such unbridled fury, inside I hide
in a corner cloaked in darkness
suffocating between the extremes
Twisted and torn in mind numbing horror,
as my demons come to claim their grizzly prize,
they say, no, not yet there is still more, so here
I lay chained and tortured, silence only
broken by my screams.
I wrote this in 2003
I scream in erotic torment,
fire and ice run from my eyes,
as the beast rises from the pit,
a voice inside says life is death,
death is life, if eyes are the windows
to the soul, mine are tombstones
So much pain, so much loss,
why must I live in chained silence,
with such unbridled fury, inside I hide
in a corner cloaked in darkness
suffocating between the extremes
Twisted and torn in mind numbing horror,
as my demons come to claim their grizzly prize,
they say, no, not yet there is still more, so here
I lay chained and tortured, silence only
broken by my screams.
I wrote this in 2003
