(This is my edited version of my poem because the previous one didn't make sense. I accidently put them in the Introduction section. So here's my new version!)
Love flows from your heart
passing over your sensuous lips
so long we have been apart
I long for my hands upon your hips...
Can you fix me,
instead of playing tricks on me,
I don't want to feel a thing,
I don't want to be anything,
its hurts to walk anymore,
no more talk about gore,
or how much you think you rot,
but to me, baby, your pretty hot.
Can you fix me,
My Winter Wonderland
I walk through the blinding light
I sweat in the blazing heat
I strip my clothes to a scarce few
Just like they all do
In the summer days
Yet I don’t laugh in the light
Do I have to write my thoughts down
Clear without even the subtlety of clowns
Chisel it upon the stone tablets on the ground
So that every on can see the maggots without sound
Or are there dancing sunrays singing through the screen
A holy specter that I did not...
I am always tossed in to these situations im always in,
none of them I can win,
I could never win your heart,
nothing can describe you not even the greatest piece of art,
so heres to another round,
of us never being together on any battleground,
even when our fates are together bound,
I do not want
Your eyes to see.
I do not want
I watched your shadow shave itself onto a marble floor
The rose that it was clutching fell and landed in my core
And I just stood there staring at it as it went for the door
With a ring of light around it, it was threatening to poor
Out itself upon me, standing there so numb
The silver surface seems sweetly pristine
Severing me from a whole world it seems
And I can hear as the forms starts to scream
And I reach out and touch it with my hand
I'm lost in the darkness,
with no where to go,
then I see this light,
with a bright white glow.
So bright and holy,
like it was God,
"come" says a voice,
I said, "yes" and I nod.
Will you hear when your words start to fall
Collapsing in with the scent of a pall
As the days you have spent start to sing and to call
For the dreams you have left ‘neath the gaze of a doll
Will you hear it?
Maybe You Just Forgot
“I will be waiting here for you, so don’t forget to come.”
Among the bitter nights of sitting underneath the Willow Tree,
The icy winds that struck me through,
And the slightly warm cup of nothing that was once hot coffee,
I remember my first thoughts about you.
Only way to go
Are you crying
Because I'm dying
In the moonlight,
Seven was the number
As it floated near me
So lecherously soft
So beautiful and free
Goofing off and using school time to make your poems on this site,
seems kind of fun if you do it just right.
But it can be dangerous, oh yes it can.
When the teacher sees your exited hand
dancing on the keys more than it should.
She says "Stop goofing off if you would."
What if I won't?...
Internet is going slow im working on a other one. Its almost finished i think i hope i can post them.
We were having fun.
Together on the run.
We folowd a road.
We traveld by boat.
All I believe
Is wasted when spoken
Like summer-fed dreams
Which glimmer like tokens
In my pockets which cry
So much pain and loss,
mist of confusion clouds my brain
Agony lances through my heart as tears stream down my face.
why has it come to this?
Why is it so hard to trust, you or myself?
I do not understand . . .
I wipe angrily at my face, too many tears
I'm so sick of crying
this was alot of fun to write... i just sang into a recording device and then typed it up when i was done
And I wanted you
to take me now
what can we do
as you sing sweetly from the waves
as they crash into the bay
and i know what you were doing
but it couldn't be that way
I look at the street,
where it is above my feet,
the weather was sleet,
where I'm supposed to meet.
The place was cold,
like my soul was sold,
it may look like gold,
only radiant and bold.
Now I have to wait,
what is there a saint?
Saturday Nov 4, 2006, 1:27 am
Okieeeeees!!! After a long hiatus of dying under the weight of schoolwork I hath returned!!! Well...For one more poem at least! This is dedicated to BloodyOrchid-chan and Daima-chan, two of my most faithful fans!
Thanx for the support guys! Everyone else too as...
In the mortuary morning of a now late afternoon
I was thinking of your singing, how to make it out of tune
I wanted your essence your soul as it zooms
I wanted to eat your halos and your wings and hands
As you sang to the purest chastest man
I hope this thread doesn't get closed, I read the rules and Jack Skellington's thread *you should probably read it too if you keep getting closed*
This is one of my poem I wrote for Alter and I don't know if he'll even know I wrote it for him. I hope I followed the rules....here it goes.
I'm slipping further and further,
I'm drowning in a sea of pain,
I'm burning in the heavens,
My heart is cold and my soul is withering away,
I'm lost in a world without love and full of pain,
I can see as you chase dreams floating in drifting thoughts
With currents that push you towards some broken city street
Where men in cars with guns smile with teeth very sweet
But I would not enter them nor let them enter you
As you pursue your own father’s shade through the...
Original "Freedom Fighter" here - Freedom Fighter
He is the keeper. Leader of the team.
Brought home the warriors, not one mourning scream.
Straight from the front lines, his spirit soars high.
Living for his people, for which he'd gladly die!
He is the keeper. Leader of the team....
Past The Point Of No Return
I'm past the point of no return
With no backward glances
All of the games we've played till now are at a n end
We're past all the thoughts of "if and when"
There's no use resisting
I will abandon the thought, and will let the dream descend
What raging fire...
I made this cause this wil be my last poem. I just dont like the moderater here. So i decided to join a other forum maybe theyre happy with my poems. Cause here i just stop it here. Sory to all people who liked my poems. If you wanna hear one. You can always pm me. I wil stay on this site anyway....
Purity's Crisis Communication
bunk-beds' fluffy feather pillows,
and soft sheets up above,
a pure snokeflake,
innocently glides down,
from the white quilt,
the faithful dreamer's,
dried anxious tongues,
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