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Wintertime nighs;
But my bereavement-pain
It cannot bring again:
Twice no one dies.

Flower-petals flee;
But since it once hath been,
No more that severing scene
Can harrow me.

Birds faint in dread:
I shall not lose old strength
In the lone frost’s black length:
Strength long since fled!

Leaves freeze to dun;
But friends cannot turn cold
This season as of old
For him with none.

Tempests may scath;
But love cannot make smart
Again this year his heart
Who no heart hath.

Black is night’s cope;
But death will not appal
One, who past doubtings all,
Waits in unhope.
Nik Price Sep 2011
Sleepless nights

Filled with thought

Left to the knowledge of Earth's sorrows


Breathing in

Breathing out

The air flow is life renewing


When all that we are
reveals time's ***** plight.  
Just a vision which none
can see nor predict

why try to fix this?
why try at all?
Zach Merrill Nov 2010
well the royal's gone, and so are you. so i'll sit here and think my things thru.
It's funny how things change between good and bad, But it's how things go and i'm glad that your glad.
so goodnight, farewell, cuase i'll see you in hell.

And i don't know how to change how i feel, it's my sixth sence, one you could never steal.
It's funny how things seem to unwined, when everything seems together and seems alright.
so goodnight, farewell, cuase i'll see you in hell.

And as i'm writeing this song, It seems like revenge.
It seems sweet it seems right, but it's wrong in the end....
cuase your there for me i know that you are, but it's nighs like this you seem so far... so far away...
victor tripp Nov 2013
my thoughts travel back to city nighs when fireflys lit the dark,under streams of summer moonlight,air seemed fresher and even crisp in those young man days,with quick strides I walked past houses of peoples who knew and didn't know,who I was,and care,heading toward a future that might shut out all the dreams long dreamed,yet to meet young womenwho would guide me through the garden of sweet delight,and deliver mail to my senses than awakening
What I wish I was
And What I Have Been
A contradiction in terms
That disguised himself
In an intellectualist's cloak

A time worn wooden shelf
For all of my insidious memories
Decorating tacky shameless
Lighting for a cemetery
Making a mockery of
The designations of life's many fates
And my creed was based on the novelty
Of avoiding how to grieve

Crimson tired eyes
Postulating sleep upon restless nighs
For I expended so much time
Doing just a little less than nothing
And somethings, my brothers
They  never change

I am so unequivocally deranged
My life changed
And what promised to illuminate my life
Encapsulated my only light with shame

As I breath
Martyrs and murderers
become the same
The leaves fall like they do
When their colors change
If that's how our lives worked
I would die today
Away from my lovely tree
Be swept away by the wind
Disintegrate into this earth again
Regret that life's not as simple
As I would love to forget
Find reprieve in a new life
I never found in the one I have in front of me
Now ma nada twirly (to early) twittering
condolences to the esprit de corps, qua
(just recently) late John McCain, and his
surviving family suddenly damning original
way word odd did see, whence (mere
moments ago) shore lee levee ming pondering...

     (ma river rent stream
     of consciousness weighs wise)
how to encapsulate, distill,
     or cull poetically
     evoking local or global
     political and/or
     other phenomena ayes

wanna heron, now tern
     over every stone
     (ill eagle or otherwise)
     as a stool pigeon tattler personifies
(basically thee entire
     planet) well nighs
with forthrightness do willingly,
     seriously, and eagerly advise

those unsuspecting readers popularize
the convincible credible essence fortifies
bereft Trump Taj Mahal
     tower of blatant lies
     news outlet at (of him...D.K
     Americans - ought via
     auto-da-fé) ostracize
the mischievous, merciless,

     and malodorous aggrandizer
     in chief i.e. Trump, who,
     undermines, tramples, and lowly hies
brazenly, deplorably and smugly
    hugely belittles and belies
most every liberal
     minded, Matthew Scott Harris
     colluding against blatant

     infringement on free speech,
     fostering this rhyming grievance,
     and upholding virtue
editorialist aye hypothesize
     via stealthy sequestered infomercials
     honestly (by trekking exercise
     zing straightaway obvious,
     where crew kid ness did rise

to urban jungles) advertise
(even those news gatherers
     risking life and limb storied
     public funded stations) as "FAKE"
     worthy tidbits, eye
     assess and apprise
my general tactic involves choosing,
when initially ferreting material

(invariably a nigh opening headline,
     which screams and cries
     ****** friggin ******),
     whereat my coo wing
     dove vine cognition tries
to tease out, even among
     plethora of hawkish excell lent
     power fully pointed graphic,

     morbid, or repulsive atrocity
     to frequent (ideally Hollywood
     joyous ending) human interest
     sordid themes, though
     this chap admittedly viz blindsided
     by gory infamous killings espies
topics that generate "buzzfeed,"
nonetheless salutary anonymous

good samaritan allies
all to quickly go bye byes
     virtuous deeds thrive and rise,
     to the occasion, sans
     heart warming happenings
     compete against overshadowing
     violent crime, the latter spurring
     (by Jeeves) all stops pulled

     as printing presses
     go into overdrive
     anticipating record breaking buys
moost oft times occurring
     within the outer term limits,
     at the edge of night no lies
perpetrated by gals or guys,
(thus mine pet peeve against

     mass communication),
     focusing more so
     about what premeditated
     hideous ruse ill fate plies
an oblivious innocent victim
     (such as how or why,
     some innocent promising    
young person, eco-system,
     animal unfairly dies).

— The End —