Souls detached
Stars entwined
No solitude in this darkness
Breathe the animosity
Chaos combusts
The light consumes the mind
Let the riots burn
Brighter than war
Fighting the horizon
Bursting, the veils collapse
Hope is smothered
Reincarnate the ashes
Supernovas and cyanide
Soon the trumpets play
Hail this lucid tragedy
Forever twisted and frayed
Choked upon reality
Die peacefully until we return
Please, don't tell her that she's alluring;
don't tell her so just because you know how to lure and malevolently make use of her malleable heart, to form and fit into a ring on your plum-tipped, pinky finger- you duly deserve fetters.
Please, don't tell her that she's beautiful;
if only just to have your way and peruse through the glossy pages of her life like it were some casual magazine on a random subway stand- she's better off without your grimy fingerprints.
Please, don't tell her that she's captivating;
don't use terms of endearment when you don't even understand why they should be said to her in the first place- you were never worthy
Dearest,
Would that you were closer,
So I could read aloud
The words I’ve only written,
The thoughts I haven’t dared.
Speak my desires
Onto your lips and into your mouth
So they might wrap around your tongue
And maybe travel to your heart.
Dearest,
Would that you were closer,
So I could catch the notes
You shout from high cliffs
That travel over oceans
Until they get to me,
Where I wait on the sand,
And only grasp faint whispers
Carried by the waves.
Dearest,
Would that you were closer,
So we could count the freckles
That dot across our noses.
Which we got from waiting
Every night in the moonlight
So we wouldn’t miss th
Your acumen sharpens
in the stirring of a bur oak
like a lifeform in the limbs
a contretemps in the stillness
a whisper of a thought
a wrist jostled in a northern front
and here comes your aimless code
pecking holes into the new wind
a raver behind a window
in a summering driftwood cathedral
summoned from a force majeure
stealing from your audience
with the paling dead of creek bottoms
and figments curling in their wings.
A Glass Warrior
The Sword:
Accurate, is the deliverer of thy last breath
Steady, are the hands that control death
Quick, are the decisions that commence
Life itself is put on hold
When war wages between reapers fueled by greed and hope
And freedom is at stake when the hidden beasts are provoked
-
The Shield:
Watchful, are the eyes that hide behind flawed masks
Careful, are the steps that keep a calculated distance
Fearful, are the walls that withstand every gory experience
Time is protection's worst enemy
As the hourglass of the mind empties
Prevention to all except the desolation of my serenity
-
The Armor:
Imperfect, are the morta
Veils of sadness seemed so becoming
beckoning and crying for needs which appeared to be running
to rivers of hopes gone astray
pooling at shores of her shallow bay
quelled hatreds there were broiling
beneath still waters slathering like an oiling
to his outstretched arms and into his pores as the liquid leaked
till he was saturated with her summer fragrance that almost reeked
of despair and the thoughts that washed up there
and in his veins pulsed a sense of her eyes,
of her hair...
in his mind he'd heard her sighs,
knowing not who she was as he lingered at those shores
but sensing that these willows had once witnessed much more
no one had b
The Difference Between You and I by IamDreamfire, literature
Literature
The Difference Between You and I
The thorns sink in as the road darkens ahead and I dream that one day we can sleep in peaceful beds as the air thickens with night's reign as fear spreads.
When will yesterday be a forgotten sentence?
We seek calm yet we must meet war head on without undue pretense.
To put the animal out of it's misery, to call upon those who seek to civilize,
I yet walk with my dreary head held high,
I float away while the greedy drown in their vicious lies.
Some may have sympathized for my plight
but the awakened souls know who has always won the fight,
now we are millions spanning all races
putting those who put skin or body ahead through their paces,
my
“Sometimes we lay aside our own troubles when we wipe away another's tears.”
—Seneca
By techgnotic (https://www.deviantart.com/techgnotic)
Apart...
Is no longer alone
T
his life is not easy; a winding, sometimes whimsical, sometimes tragic journey that ultimately finds terminus in the same common destination for each of us. No matter the brave, fierce constructs we build and serve that would have us believe we are each one of us all alone as we make this journey, we make our way toward the end of all things side-by-side in our community of the living each day defying death. Our paths may be wildly divergent—the way of the hungry and impov