Untitled
Writen during one of my darker moments.
Saved
Time to write another poem Verses appear magically Where do these come from Does the muse create And so the writer penetrate So anon, The earth turns on We the planet’s infestation Are permitted to stay on But for how long sustained And
white heart
Behind the beating shell The pulse of life The beating heart The white exteria The white hardend shell Strong but fragile Easliy broke The beating pluse that drive the heart Pulse the vains The rivers of blood The yellowed narrowed
The Day Innocence Died
Innocence was killed today by modern society, And no one mourned its passing, though the media covered it around the clock, Because the children that were the last the last to see it Never realized what was missing, And had no idea they should
long time no see...........
I come here just want to see if I can still read, type, think in English the lanuguge I love best Long time no see my favourite website I miss you so much I am afraid of you so much Here is just like heaven Here is just like hell Here
Making the circles
I've always been fascinated by fish, particular ones that are in a fish tank in someone's home. I have always wondered if they are aware that they are trapped, or if they think that that tank is as big as the world gets. I feel like life is such a tank. We believe that the one is *this* big, but is it really? are we aware that we are just prisoners of our own, small lives? we can never break free of that prison, because it has no walls, no bars, no limit. We generate it in our own minds and we call it "life".
Midnight
The first gong strikes I can feel the power course through me As each gong strikes I become stronger Midnight is my time It is my time to roam and stalk Souls is what I seek As the last gong strikes I am free Once more to hunt Through ete
Of Myths
…And the formless-ones shall ascend Emanating darkness ‘Vaccuous’ prisms of hunger Supping on the souls of the spiritless Imbibing from the chalice of shame . To fill the coffers of suffering The empty-ones tempt the 'lamenters' Their 'wailin
Paranoia
This poem is to someone I will never meet nor understand by there choice.
Carrie: Differences in the new movie
I enjoyed the new version, but found it a little hard to see the actress as a victim after seeing her in Kickass and Kickass 2.
fire
In the centre the wooden stake Tied on the black witch Hands bound so she won't escape
Final Farewell
Neither desperation Nor fatalism, brood Amongst the heart Or twixt the head Should they retract (Those sanguine fingers) Tendrils of life (Or pernicious death?)
Anger
another thing I wrote during secondary school english
pain
My bags are packed Do I want to stay or go Pain in my chest I have felt for a while It comes and goes like a fantom in the night one minute there the next its gone A tightness like pressure on my ribs trying to get out To bed I go to rest m
With in a Dream
Twas the twilight creeping in thru morning The linge
He left.
He left and I'm sad about it.
She Couldn’t Save Me
Its about pain you cant see... "Nobody" is a reference to me.. How only we can save ourselves, but how we think others can.
All Hallows Eve
another thought for HAlloween
“Divergence”
Poem #79
You Don't Care
Violence turning into hate to be as one has become a debate struggles we go through wishing for moments to undo Fighting everyday none stop till one or both of us drop hurt words said, no trust something will happen and must Everything wi
"My friend"
We have to different object of desires. Appetite for flesh and pleasure Verses the inquisition for emotional treasure. You introduced chaos in this palace of ours. So my question now is “what be the outcome” Anarchy or will tranquility transpire
~~Silent Prayer~~
Some may know back in 2007 I lost my son Nathan to a bad hunting accident . He was only 20 years old at the time this month he would of turn 27 so my heart continue to hurt and linger on hard with unanswered moments and this is when my writing just pops into my head and here is another example of what happens in my writes and hope you all can enjoy this one as I am missing my only boy I have ever had. R.I.P. Nathan Wayne
Charlie's Kids
I don't remember why I wrote it, perhaps I found a subject matter, perhaps I had seen a movie, who knows. Or maybe I just felt like writing, and that's what I came up with.
The Widows Touch
Love gone bad....really bad...really really bad
My Journey Into Madness Part 1
MY JOURNEY INTO MADNESS When sanity bellows from the depths below, Hear me now it has come time to know, I welcome you all to my pain and sadness, Welcome to my journey into madness. Being a good boy wasn’t hard to do, But always being tol
A Yellowed Page
a poem about mortality....
I am me
Though i am not the presttiest i am cute, Though im not the sexiest ill always be cute. Nor am i skinny. I am thick and learning to love it. Though i have suicidal thoughts i could never go through with it. For i have learn that i am on this Earth fo
Insight to My Mind
a little peek into my past and somewhat present... to much meaning behind these words
Closer to me
A walk down the dark side
Kill me.
I kill myself to get her to leave me. Her smile haunts me. Her laugh taunts me. Her eyes see me crying & she giggles while she's staring.
No Reason
to somebody
A minds scream
God forgive me show me mercy as it was you whom created me sent me to the life i was to lead Ark Angel tear my soul apart cast me to hell with the rest of demons i have become my life a life not my own for they raised me Hells
Lost in my mind where darkness hides
Theres a boneyard to time locked in the back of my mind a place hopes and dreams of youthful thoughts wonder so lost a gloomy place that shades of black are woven so tight no light will ever shine i sit on my rock looking around
Questions
Do you want to push away? Does it feel safe? Loneliness is a shield that keeps the hurt away, But what is the price you will be required to pay? Will your victory be truly sweet, if you manage to keep the world away? Or would it be the bitter
Ink upon my finger.
This poem describes my feelings towards other people who I consider selfish and don't give a damn I don't care if you don't like my poetry or how deep I can go with emotionalism we don't all have happy stuff to write some of us are scared with life and my words pull no punches.
A June Winters Night.
Wintered summertime in Ireland
Surreal Indulgence
MY writing says all Soph I had fun xx
The room
the tormented mind
Downward spiral
A little dark poetry...
Ma'at
Have you ever thought about what it would take to restore life's balance? To fix it where humanity was one with life? Instead of people out there hustling around trying to event this and that to make things better as they see it they would be just enjoying the world as one of natures miracles? To not have anyone better than the other? Richer than the other? The right color? The right size? Just simply allowed to be? To roam the earth to eat the fruits off the trees? Without getting a shot gun shoved in your face and told to get off my property. Because there would no longer be your property or mine. I cannot help but wonder when did we decide we could take property and call it ours? Was this the beginning of the end?
In my head...
Happy halloween people...
Mind
So who are you in wanton state, arrived too early? perhaps too late?, to herd the clowns and lead them on, into oblivion, till they are gone. The noise of silence is shrill and loud, it breaks you up, not make you proud, arise and take all you