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Pyassa Lias Apr 2020
Tired flames
Still burn, though they struggle
Tired flames, The wind is to come thy way
And fight you shall, to keep thy light

To the heavens one cries for mercy
Only to be met with rain
Tired flames
Struggle, struggle
They come for your light
DeVaughn Station Mar 2020
Such a double-edged sword is hankering;
lending way to most useful ambition
that gives inspiration to musicians.
It also can subvert our pure mindset;
corrupting our light so tragically,
as it sadly pits us against our own.
Envy is only evil when our tone
turns to tempered despise as our eyes set
upon those without any sense of debt.
We wish for positivity in life;
no stress, no hatred, no sadness, no strife.
Yet, without those joys, desires do beset
when we covet pleasures from each other,
peace and love, will our jealousy smother.
December 2, 2019: That fine line between jealousy and competition is golden; a sunflower. My eyes light up like cherries and I might smile when I see him.
G Valentine Mar 2020
This is the death of ambition.

Gather round' come on! Let's mourn our past together. Let's mourn what we could've been. Just for a little while.

I was 14, I was naive...and the worst part, was that I was in love.

I was ambitious...and that's a dangerous feeling for a 14 year old girl who would move mountains for someone she just met on the internet.

There's this thing that all the movies about young love just don't seem to get....I mean, why I haven't I seen any movies about two teenage girls falling in love, moving across the country, going to college and having a quarter life crisis together?

I mean...that might be a niche audience.

So the scary thing about the death of ambition, is that it dies slowly. Overtime...months and years turn into decades wasted. Unhappiness, contentment.

That's word's always scared me...content.

It defines a time when you stop trying. I don't know what I'm more afraid of...being content...or never...ever feeling that way.

So, this is the death of ambition. Slowly, crawling it's way to your core. Suffocating. Deadly.
It's been so long! So excited to be getting my words out there again.
Psychostasis Mar 2020
Once my skin tasted warm daylight
I vowed to never let the sun set on me again.
So, barefoot, and frantically shrieking in a panic
I chased behind

I caught up
And past. To enjoy the warm day

But the sun cooked my skin, charring it to black flakes that drifted aimlessly in the breeze
Leaving my bleached and wrinkled flesh showing for the birds hovering overhead
Revealing my humanity to be food for the birds circling above me like a halo
The birds
The birds
The ******* BIRDS.

I fell under the suns spell
I chased it until my bones cracked and shattered
And my skin peeled back from my soul.
I chased it until my parched throat could no longer remember what my voice sounded like
I chased it until my ***** feet bled, and my legs muscles exploded from sheer over use

And its curse melted into my skull
I was fed to those who knew better than to chase such an impossible object
I was fed to those winged rats just as many before me have
I was fed to the sun's own messengers
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Watch your step
When trying to climb
The corporate ladder.

You scratch their back
They just might shoot you
In your's.
Shawn Awagu Dec 2019
I had no knowledge from where it came
I had no forewarning of this tale to tell
But the stone lay shimmering across my path
Lying in tall grass parted for my way

A walk I took to clear my head
To breathe in fresh air and dim the pain in my head
Shallow sunlight streaked across the morning sky
Crickets, chirping birds, and civilization all creeping at that hour

Past the deserted park and over gently-sloped hill
Right ‘round the corner, across the sunken ditches
I walked to walk and walked to blank my brain

Suddenly, Sky's eye rose slightly higher
Gave way to royal goitered rays slicing the air
I saw it, laying there
I saw it! The stone called me by name!

I was blinded, emboldened
Drawn to quaking power
My feet surged forward
My hands outstretched

God I am among men! Emperor I am among Kings!
This stone I have grabbed and this stone which is my own
Is the stone by which the world will fall
Fall to my influence, my conquest
My desires

Gravity brought me back to Earth
The sound of broken silica quietly folded into the morning buzz
Hiding in plain sight, making itself unknown in the sunlight
The rock was slipped from my hands and gone from my life

Back over sunken ditches, left to turn
Slinking down the hill, back through silent playground
I returned again to my former life
Serendipity no longer my name
Chandra S Nov 2019
You asked:
"How you came to your dead end?"

How did I?
Perhaps too much of chasing butterflies,
or maybe running barefoot in hot, avid pursuit
of those looping, berserk kites

adrift like airborne serpents

in delirious evening skies.

Then there were those chimeric rainbows -
sedately fantastic illusions of dream jobs,
and loving homes with ambrosial glows.

They all eventually led to the same prosaic end,
for, any-which-way, all roads wound up
at appropriately conventional
and consequently beaten bend.

Till the chase went on, it was the same old story -
All fulfilled ambition promptly subject to
increasingly falling marginal utility.

After all of it was said and done,
every little crown lost and won,
the agony of the question still remained
no last words arose,
to which to exclaim and say Yay!

Life had me in its hook. See:?
while this is what it meant to be free: !



Fossilized in my den, I stared wistfully
at life's irrevocable loose ends
and this is how my friend
I arrived at my proverbial dead ends.
Inspired by the question in a poem by Inner Incognito at https://poetizer.com/poem/555814

WELCOME

Sad you are?
Join the club!
I think you'll find there's plenty of

like headed minds and wandered souls
On the path to pay the toll
But like all paths we're headed down
If stayed the course you'll come around
So pick a seat and tell us friend

How you came to your dead end.

© Inner Incognito, 2019
TMReed Nov 2019
Each morn, I sow
a quest-in mind,
resolved to find,
a handsome home,
‘low golden glow,
or wood entwined,
one springs to mind.
What place I’ll go
in morning throes
to bury blind
this heart of mine,
I never know.
A day begins without light or sound—with discovery.
Tyler Matthew Oct 2019
Nearer to the edge
                             I see.
Crawling through
          eternity.
Searching for the master key.
This is our reality.

Communication has de-
                                         volved.
None of our real problems solved.
  We have become      uninvolved
while the whole world revolves.

Spinning further from cont
                                          ro
                                            l.
Turn 'round and view it as a whole.
  Mother Nature's gifts we        stole.
This is how our story goes.

Once black and white.
Once dark and light.
To complicate.
Bring on our fate.

Our halos tilt.
Intentions wilt.
Ambitions great.
Never too late.

Turn 'round to see the sum of things.
Counting on the dead tree's rings.
Refering to ourselves as kings.
Soaring on the deathbird's wing.
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