it comes in like a hurricane...
and God, i'm tired of the rain.

I'm not sure there's love or trust in this place any more yet I can't leave
which kind of man would I be to disappear as others grieve
I'm driven by the will to make this place what it was
to stick by my people in time of piece and time of wars
I'm not sure who my friends are anymore
this place is a jungle and everyone's become a wild animal
there's no harmony when some are predators others prey
no more sunshine for the mellow skies are grey
with very thick and expectant clouds of despair and pain
in hearts hopelessly awaiting for the stormy rain
wanted to walk away from these disappointments and hurt
from the start but in this dismal place lies my heart

Suicide cycle
Is selfishness

Don't loose sight someone cares
Loosing sight is giving up
Remember good times
There yours to
Keep.

The moon is my lover,
He and I love each other like no love there ever was nor ever will be,
I share him with many a fortunate soul,
His love sprinkled amongst all our hearts,
Yet there are millenniums where he despises me,
What love is this? I ask the moon,
The moon stares at me with an unrelenting glare,
This love is one of neither time nor rhyme nor you or I,
But of our own big bang,
Both catastrophic and melancholic yet filled with eternal bliss found and derived nowhere else by no one else,
Not even those others whom shower me with  underserving love,
No our love is a Silverstone amongst pebble rocks.
An anonymous girl ©

○
I go incircles for the clock is in twelve
Abusing the moments Yea! my time pendant
Thus,restraining your blemish the prudence to blot

○
The sweet sweet lullabies, and the soothing words in shelves
Keep echoing my heart,how susceptible its to the rots
I made you my queen so you took me for a treasured-peasant

○
You plagued me your freights
And left me in the dark,passions drunk in passions,its was all lust
When I fell flat to your vintage-wine dust
So day after day,and night after night,you rouse me to blate
The thousand tempest tears
That noveled the stories the wretch fear-ed
But,though I'm lost in lust, and of no home
You mean everything to me,so I shall still search,for you,my throne






○Untitled○

○Historian E●Lexano○

It's a sonnet...14 lines
Divided into six lines○sextave
And 8 lines ○octave

This poem is nothing to do with copulation,
The title merely grabbed your attention,
It caught your eye, your mind alert,
I like your style, you little pervert!

© Cinco Espiritus Creation

Words don’t come so easy these days,
They no longer taste of vintage wine,
Maybe I’m the last gasp of a dying breed,
Or maybe I’m a failure by design,

You ran out of patience for tomorrow,
I ran out of hope and foolish pride,
I had no more answers I could sell you,
No more places in my head to hide,

Last night I was sleeping in an airport,
Maybe I was lost inside your smile,
Come and wake me when I get there,
Call me when I’m back in style,

I won’t apologize again for leaving,
I’m only sorry if I let you down,
But after all the oceans had run dry,
There was nowhere left for me to drown,

I told you a tale of bold surrender,
You heard a story of morose decay,
I didn’t mean to lead to this conclusion,
But I wrote it all to end this way,

The words all came so easy back then,
Burning my lips like old moonshine,
But maybe I’m still the first star you see,
Or maybe I’m the future in decline.