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 Sep 2016
Aeerdna
Behind the window where raindrops rest
there lies a world dying
under the red sky
a world where the half moon
still looks for its temporary sun,
a world where hope buries people alive
while silver birds are flying
to another sunrise.
behind the window where stars cry
lies my soul
still looking for you
under the dark clouds
of a room
with a dying light.
 Sep 2016
Irene
She feels heaviness in her heart
What once gave her happiness
leaves her feeling empty

She tries to write out her feelings
but they remain inside her
like a bird locked in a cage
wanting to go out
but not knowing how to fly

Why do I keep on feeling this way, she asked herself
Why must I feel so deeply
It hurts
It hurts
It hurts too much
This aching in my bones
longs to hear the soft whispers of love
yet I am too consumed in my own darkness
I can't see the light
 Sep 2016
SteffyWeffy
She was walking up and down rows of graves.
Looking carefully at the names and when they died.
Was she looking for someone?
No she wasn’t this is one of her hobbies, to visit graves.
She is fascinated with death.
 May 2016
GaryFairy
i feel like the walking dead
rotten thoughts calling often
no stopping the stalking dread
crossing over from my coffin

bury me deeper

just a corpse, looking back
maggots feasting on the placid
no stopping the pulling black
passing over from my casket
https://soundcloud.com/gary-loftis/bury-me-deeper
 May 2016
Rapunzoll
There are fewer things
beautiful than ugly,
I know that stars are most
bright when they fall
from impassioned skies,
That when your skin
meets mine, I am like an
amnesiac being returned
a lifetime of memories.

I hate few things,
except, perhaps, the murky
lakes of your eyes,
The misty beaches we
explored until sunrise.
How you pressed your lips
to mine like a death wish,
that it was deplorable,
but we wanted more, more.

My body was a map
you tore apart when you
got tired of exploring it.
The ancient psalms of our
tongues cannot silence.
Ruins of ancient Rome
survive on your lips, yet
you still live, breathe.
You call yourself mortal.
© copyright
 May 2016
Aeerdna
I cannot find the words to answer your lines,
it's been years since my skin touched yours at night
it's been a long night with no dreams
I am poor when it comes to writing about memories
and though our roads are separated now
you're still in some of the glasses I have
and in the cigarettes filling up my lungs.

I loved you the way I love
the sun touching me with its golden lights
the way I love waves crushing the shore at night
I had you with all my body
and with all the light
I was able to hold inside.

You had a way of digging in my heart
and make bluebirds fly in my evening sky
you were in my coldest nights
the blanket covering my heart.

time has passed and I know,
feelings get older everytime the moon shows her pale light
but believe me when I say
in my mind there are still memories
calling your name.

I'll keep you in the drawer of my mind
you've made me cry and you've made me smile
all in all we are just an ash blowing in the wildest wind
I loved you, I hope you know,
but it is time for us
to find another sun
another glass of poison
from which we'll drink and cheer
till in our dreams
we'll die under the  layers of our skins

I am sorry, dear,
but we had to pack our things
before destroying our souls,
I am sorry the love we shared so painfully died

I still hope you know
that
I loved you

the ghost of your name still haunts me sometimes
I know you still love me
and I wish one night
you'll find some other dreams to live inside
https://youtu.be/ZfW4-nP2G1Q
 Sep 2015
Tatiana
There will be no roses on my grave
I do not want the red to mark where I lay
No people will mourn my life gone away
All the animals will retreat to the cave

People should cry at this untimely death
But no need to make so many trips
Because I just want to part my lips
And speak all the words that I once kept

There will be no fancy funeral
The coffin will shape who I am
I want them to remember who I was when
I didn't believe the race was so futile

So there will be no roses on my grave
Instead lay down lilacs
So every spring my scent will come back
And it will remind only you to be brave
 Sep 2015
PrttyBrd
Soothing sounds of future memories
Pictures painted in the glory of pain
The beauty found in such ethereal places
Is especially so in the desperation
Emerging from watching the truth
Of the other side of elation
Never absorbing the joy in the mundane
Finding it exceptional
Only when threatened by the violence of truth
Truth is a reminder of fragility in all things
Manifesting itself in the clear consciousness
Of the possibility of pure anguish
The very thought of the mundane being temporary
Of that  routine being ripped apart
Shredded in terrifying facts of probability
Need vs want is a privilege
The truth is evil
The only freedom that can ever exist is truth
Faced with the amputation of what was once meaningless
Transforms the mundane to profound
There will always be loss
There will always be an opportunity to be reborn
Perception is reality
Mood is a choice
Absolute truth is a fallen angel
Yet it remains something for which to strive
Life in retrospect is not living
Biding time between bouts of honesty
Treading stagnant water
Fulfillment does not dwell in the in-between
Satisfaction is not born of boredom
The world that surrounds each life
Is only what that life has built in its down time
For there can be both joy and pain in all things
Both apathy and interest in each new view
Emotions are a powerful thing, as is logic
Yet if they never marry, there can only be lived a half-life
Peace is born in the unity of all that we are
6715
 Sep 2015
Daniel Lee Waajid
I went to a place.
Dark and lit by city lights.
I let me heart rest, my mind...not up to the task,
I let the moon handle that.

The stadiums are sound  asleep,
the three rivers calm and live as always.
The fountain shines high tonight, well deserved appearence.
All I can hear is tires on construction roads.
I can hear the *** holes laugh from here.

It's sad really.
I will never see it as others do.
The burden of knowing the truth.
 Sep 2015
Forgotten Heart
they said memories make you happy
but why didn't they tell
that one second memory
might **** all your happy memories?
each an every teardrop
falling from my eye - they
tell me the story of your accident
making me remember
the feeling i had
the very first moment
when i heard that you are gone,
you are gone forever
from this little world of us
from the whole real world
and till now
i secretly hope
that you will come back
to me to fulfill
your promises....!!
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