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I Can Make You Cry
My heart sank at the sound of the first shot,
Falling deep into black of this abysmal state of mind.
My thoughts rushed in a panic,
Knowing only anarchy the beat of my heart.
I collapsed in a stairwell,
falling upon jagged right angles.
Weeping out of my pointless efforts,
Broken down along the road to saving her.
Shouts came like the voices of ghosts from the 13th floor,
Echoing through a haunting resonation.
Silence became a blanket over my shoulders,
The ghosts and my weeping became mute.
I was to be alone there on,
With her as but a memory,
A dream to bring me smiles,
A nightmare to make me reminisce.
I feared for the future of our child,
Wondering of the consequences,
Feeling little but a bitter hope,
And a cold air over me.
My limbs grew close to lifelessness,
And my shock kept me all but enticed.
My heart, struggling in its climb back to my chest,
Plummeted a final time, at the second shot.
“I can make you hurt,” said Fate,
“I can make you cry.”
I ran, cl
The Grand Finale
The hour at hand at when the bell tolls,
The cry of a land digging countless holes.
Nothing short of going through the motions.
A long shot in the pointless devotions.
God forbid that something goes well,
To seek some light in this blackened Hell
Watch and witness the lack of vigilance,
Begin to weep at impact of first glance.
The double take does you little good,
Yet nothing yet seems to be understood.
The hour at hand at when the bell tolls,
The cry of a land digging countless holes.
A coffin arrives, sealed over with rusted nails,
Awaiting that final one when all else fails.
The Changing Tide
The era is now passed through which I lived and favored,
and my patience then packs its bags for hiatus,
with which to remind me that perhaps
brighter days lie in sunny hammocks ahead.
Here and alas lays the road to that sunny setting,
upon which I walk and tread the changing tide.
The next item on the list of Fates agenda and her passionate affair with time...
the seconds will carry on like the beats of my undying heart.
The fire that burns in my eyes, through which I see is only assuaged
by the tears they produce...
the tears I produce in my longing for some peace of some sort.
Yet those tears shall only accompany the sweat of my efforts.
Once upon a time, in the dream come true through which I slept,
did a fairy tale once exist…
that tale of my tale through endless times of a dream come true
and gone by in the era that I once lived and favored.
By Hatred My Ode
The largest thorn of the thicket comes constant to my side...
My attempts to remove have only placed in through my hand.
My prayers are weakened as I am bound by pain.
By hatred my ode to you, is but a psalm to them all...
All whom can relate...all whom can hate.
Find me, my grace! Lest you hide from my dark passenger,
The horned monkey on my back...
Be it that my words climb and crawl from dark crevices
They come only to be held at bay.
My words howl for action.
Yet my threats are empty until I fulfill them.
It is the although and now that make them into promises.
Come close so I may place one of your thorns in your brittle veins,
Allow me to play my hand just once and bring you to agony.
Your life will never be mine, but you will know my hatred of you.
A little girl hummed once more beneath the ears of her guide...a mixture of emotion swayed through her spirit as she was led away and picking flowers...a glance to the back of her shoulder where once she'd heard faint whispers...and she found with her faded eyes, the rope that swung a lifeless and familiar body in the wind.
The wind carried back to her hands, and the small hairs that stood at the attention of her chills tugged away at her grip upon the flowers...the severed plants retook a disoriented place at the earths surface, and her eyes overflowed with reality. Youth meant not that she was blind to revelation...and the guide took heart to this, placing an age old hand down on her ethereal shoulder. Her weeping began, just before her feet made an attempt at running towards the gallows. Her screams flew past deaf ears, through the limbo of our realm. Only she and the guide could hear those pathetic little screams that echoed past those of the crowd surrounding the stage of the gall
5. The End is No End
Never had I beheld such a morbid sight,
Even after all that had penetrated my vision,
And pierced the very innocence of my soul.
Before stood the arisen Gates of Hades,
And but a few steps was I from the source of opposition.
My knees then met the soil and ash that laid below me.
The eyes that had before surrounded me,
Came to once more encircle me…
I knew not the reason, nor did my curiosity overcome my fear.
The drums of my ears felt nothing but a deafening ring,
And every hair arose on the flesh of my arm in alarm.
A familiar presence came from behind me.
I turned my eyes to the Hooded Figure that had bestowed upon me this journey.
Without haste or hesitation, I spoke with my voice high,
"You said to not fear, yet what is this?!
I feel nothing but calamity flowing like scorching sand through my veins,
And my heart pounds like the hammers that forged this abomination before me!
What say you of this journey that has led me to these infamous doors?!"
To me did he attempt to
Genre, Oh Genre
Shame befalls me, for what the muses inspire.
Is such the magnet of my psyche? Such dreadful words from pen to paper?
I question not my sanity, only the purposes for which
such written things flow from me, as to what message is to be sent...
Though dedication fills me to the brink, so does a constant curiosity...
overflowing to the shores of embarrassment.
Shame befalls me, but I write as a messenger, and my muses come from Above,
where even dreaded words are sometimes called for.
Hear them, those voices in mind.
Heed them, those ideas they speak
I have felt the hands of those voices, in the wake of my choices.
I have heard them laughing at me in my shambled mind.
Those voices are not mine,
Nor were they ever...
I was not born with them,
But they came to me in weakness.
Attracted to the scent of my flawed being,
the aura of my imperfection.
The voices of, my rotten conscious,
Overtaken by shame and regret.
I have heard them screaming
at me in my shackled mind...
Such a Truth that was Never Told
Such is true, yet nothing new,
That all debates should cease with compromise.
A halt has come, to the blind & dumb,
That even the sons believe their father's lies.
Truth never to be found, by the dead blood hound,
That the hunter without food, dies.
That founding father rolls in his grave, as patriots misbehave,
Dancing in the excrement that each of them buys.
Was never there a history to be told? A perfect perception to be told?
There was it warped, in none but a fools eyes....
Never again does memory remain, only to change unto disdain.
Fate walks among us, in tears and disguise.
Told were only lies by our Hermes, myths and false stories.
The cycle only carries on in repetitive disguise.
The Ravens of ValhallaO’er desolate shores wept the fate of immortal flames
And into a Winter sun I bleed my dreams,
as a thousand years of love & war dressed the sky
Long-ships sailed to the otherworld upon Odin’s breath
Betwixt night and day I wandered, shimmering, peering
— Till my chalice of Dragons blood flowed but no more
I became a warrior lost in the stars, drifting, ever falling,
Until the shadows entombed my soul in Raven-lore
Lo the tempest eerie; ‘magick entwining spirit and flesh
Upon snow I awoke dreary, beneath winged-silhouettes
‘Couldst be, my Princess adored; — last of the Valkyrie!
I recall — myriad of black feathers in leisured-dance,
And our love soared ravenous unto darkness befallen
From the frosts of creation I wrought gloom and desire,
Bore the tongue of fevered winds thru oceans of time
Here thy whispers feasting, I linger, clad in mists of fire
O’ we have lived, in the arms of shadow and vapors
We have sung, in fields of night
To That One GirlChin up kid, stop and put down your razors and lighters.
The relief is only temporary
By tomorrow the feeling will be quite the contrary.
You could cut all night long if you want,
But people will call you weak for that stunt.
Baby, you need to focus again,
All this feeling should come to an end.
Chin up kid, your heart is filled with too much hate.
Your anxiety and depression is just too much,
Now, you even tremble at anyone's touch.
You'll die young if you continue like this,
So, please don't. There's too much to miss.
Slicing and dicing yourself up won't do
A damn good thing for you.
Chin up kid, don't give up just yet,
All these images in your head
Have me worried, will you be dead?
Honey, it's really not worth it.
So, for now let's just talk and sit.
I'm sorry but life's painful bite
Won't end until your very last night.
Oh, chin up kid, take up your dreams.
Remember to be yourself,
Take that as a lesson and put it on your shelf.
I know you're insecure now,
But baby, don't end that
blurThis weekend went by in a blur
And here I am again
Stuck here as if I never left
Not sure how or why
But I have been at this awful place before
Labeled animosity for some time now
You have taken me to this place before
And I’m not sure what I can do
To avoid being trapped here much longer
So I did what I thought I could never do
And that’s give up all hopes
That we could ever be anything
And to curse you so you would think
You’re nothing to me
Now I just have to live with my decision
And act as if I’m alright
When secretly every time
I hear you laugh I’m dying inside
So kill me as you have done
So many times before
For it won’t be too long
Before any fond memories
Are left and then I’ll be
Messsage in a bottleSometimes people cry out for help,
I think we all have witnessed it,
We watch them break,
We watch their tears,
And we see something in their eyes,
The last piece of hope,
The hope that as well could be a message in a bottle.
Who will ever know if someone noticed that tiny little bottle in the ocean,
Or if they did,
Did they pick it up?
I have seen a lot of bottles in my time,
And most of the time I pick them up,
But I notice quite a few times I don´t,
It is like they become invisible,
Even if they scream loudly right in front of you,
I think something is wrong,
Why do we leave the bottle in the ocean?
I clearly can see they need help,
And I see it,
I really do,
How can you pretend not to?
BulimiaI put my head up,looked at the mirror.
"Look at you",I said.
"Your eyes are red of crying,
Your face blushed of pain,
You have a scar on your hand,
Thanks to your teeth".
I really tried to be perfect,mama,
I really am trying.
Why do I keep hurting the ones I love?
And my heart is beating fast.
I think I am gonna fall.
Catch me,darling,don't disappoint me.
I need the smell of your skin on me now.
I love you.
My thoughts are lost in the paths of their perfection.
I am a stranger there.
And I was still looking at the mirror.
Talking to myself.
Staring at my own bulimic reflection.
"Look at you!You are beautiful even when you cry!".
Flowers in the Garden,
Flowers aren't there anymore,
Flowers are gone for the winter,
Flowers get covered by the white snow,
Flowers will be back in the spring,
Flowers make the world colorful,
Flowers always make a good decoration.
The world flower always makes someone smile.
In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyes
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well…
Poisoned LullabiesCradle me with bloody hands and wipe away my cries
Hush me into my sweet sleep with poisoned lullabies…
The Mysteries Of ShakespeareSo this is what it feels like to die,
one heart beat an hour & a million breaths a second.
Hypothermic kisses on the summer solstice, but having
solar elliptical hallucinations makes me surrender my
five senses on winter's bones.
The queen has implanted snow white's heart behind my
arctic ribs, because i could never believe in true love's
kiss - until i met you.
I called you Romeo as my negative 5 degrees lips grazed
I had became your Juliet by the 'Black Arts' death.
Our suicidal secrets could unravel the history of love conquering all.
but - - they don't deserve breathing one's last through Shakespeare's eyes.
Fairytales and Fantasies
Lay down to rest that beautiful head of hair
upon the pillow that welcomes your tired mind.
Let your body find comfort amongst the soft sheets
that caress your lovely skin as it relaxes beneath eased gravity.
Close the curtains of the enrapturing audience of your brown eyes,
let begin the lucid dreams of your kindest fantasies.
Let your mind wonder as your lungs welcome the fresh air of
a deep breath fill them, pushing ajar, the doors of your heart.
Lose yourself in your own fairytales, while in reality I move
with the quiet patience next to you upon the soft sheets.
Take no notice until my lips press against yours gently
with passion invigorating in every sense to your heartbeat.
Let open the curtains to continue the once terrifying
play to the audience of your eyes,To my smiling face.
Let excitement overtake you and embrace me with the utmost joy,
putting to shame, the fantasies and fairytales of imagination.
Kiss me and allow my adoration of you to be expressed in turn.
Love me with
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More