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But surrounded by thorns
Against the world around
A rose, hidden within the daisies,
Away from the light,
Away from the world.
To search and find.
Broken CrownThe raging whispers are taking their hold
Gripping you harder, making you cold.
You’re losing, face the facts
All the strength you lack,
You’re mind has handed you down
There’s nothing left of you, a broken crown.
The voices, twisting your every thought.
We all know how hard you fought
Face it, darling, you’re as good as gone,
You’re is simply the dark at dawn.
Death Ends the WarWith a gleam in his eyes, and a whisper upon his lips
The dust now settled, the war laid to rest
A fight fought well, still lost in the end
The gleam slowly fading, last breath escaping
He cracks a grin, a smile for the parting
Using his last breath, his dying words slip out
His words in death are as few and snide as in prime
The last words of battle, his wounds wide and seeping,
'I still won'
Seventeenth YearThis year.
This is my year.
This is the year
We take our lives
We become our own
No blood or pain
We'll become our own.
It's been too long now.
Our seventeenth year,
We will take back
All we lost.
Our seventeenth year,
We will be free.
Death's HandFootsteps down a long, dark hallway
Creek Creek Creek
Not a whisper could be heard
Not a mouse could be found
As she lays comfortably in her majestic bed
Darkness tucks her in
And death lurks her dreams
Taking her hand, she turns and smiles
Welcoming death kindly
Thunder cracks in the sky!
Blinding light flashes through
The tall, mighty windows
She then questions deaths existence
"But I am just dreaming, you're not real"
Death does not move
nor does he speak
He simply grabs her warm hand
Slowly, her eyelids become drowsy
As if they weighed a million pounds
She closes them
Awaking the next morning
Believing it was all a dream
She opens the curtains
Sunlight pours into the vast room
Finding her slippers
She walks to the bathroom
Only to find a small piece of cloak
Identical to what death had worn in her dream
Unable to loveMy love was pure
I only wanted
But my heart
Because my love
Like a piece of garbage
And now I'm unable
Because the shreds
Of my shattered soul
MathematicsI am but the sum of my
F L A W S;
a network of
S C A R S
a disaster of
D R E A M S
a shield of
B O N E S
C A L C U L A T I O N
a void of
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:
i think you’re beautiful. i have
seen nothing on earth that holds a candle
to the ocean you carry inside your body.
it spills over your edges sometimes, like
a rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-in
lines until there is nothing left of you but your natural
cliffs, valleys, and deserts.
i like that.
i have never met someone who is, somehow,
a sea and a storm at the same time.
maybe i never will again.
maybe you are the only one
who gathers clouds on her forehead
like a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tide
with her every step.
you are beautiful, honestly.
you are honest, beautifully.
it is in the way you talk, the way you hold ice
on your tongue but forget to use it—
you always forget to use it, i don’t think
you know how.
to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smile
and how it breaks over me, how it pulls
me like a whirlpool down, how it pushes me
like a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
Abuse Is Sometimes NecessaryPush and pull at her long hair, topple her to the solid ground,
elbow her sharply in the raw gut, shove her harshly around.
Scratch him in the pale face, punch him in the broken jaw,
do anything necessary to him that's considered breaking the law.
And when she cries because you've punched her, let her be,
and observe her when she returns to her habitual smoking.
When she passes out next day, because she's drunken too much booze,
slap her in the face once more, though many would consider it abuse.
When he can hardly walk because he thinks he's high in the clouds,
rip the needle out of his arm, and with your nails, slash him across the sweaty brow.
Grab them and shake them till their battered and bruised,
tear at their heart, scream in their ears until you've reached the point of verbal abuse.
And when she falls into your chest, and he collapses to the ground,
pull them closely, and whisper, “We can turn this all around.”
And rehab is a necessity for all of you, because you'v
Good (Great, Greater, Greatest, You)Good (Great, Greater, Greatest, You)
I hope the title caught your eye,
because this is about you.
Many of us speak in superlatives
and ambiguous language.
In imagery-laden text masquerading
underneath double entendres
keeping us from a part of the truth.
But purple streaks and red bands,
harp strings and soft hands
don't begin to explain
the love I have for you.
So I lay these words down
simple in its vulnerability,
blemished and raw in its purity.
The term lissome fits you in many ways,
but not necessarily it its textbook form.
I speak on the part that is not readily seen
but what is easily most cogent.
Your consciousness' cognizance
is graceful in the way
you fold one syllable over
another, supple in its meaning
that can take many forms
going from idle lies
to how we idolize hollow eyes
and uncovered hip bones.
Elegance is an understatement,
but I refuse to speak in cliche superlatives.
I speak honestly
but not with exaggerated grandeur.
Because your immediate app
i am made of nights like theseativan boy, you cannot empty out this skull -
not with a pen nor with a bullet. you can
be my hallowed head(case) for spitting out
words like teeth; oh, but i will only love you
when you're weary. i will keep crows caged
between your lungs like veins, like palpitations.
i will rot you through bones & car radios,
but i will never get (you) out of your skin.
ScienceI am more than my
F L A W S;
a masterpiece of
S C A R S
a delicacy of
D R E A M S
a sculpture of
B O N E S
R E A C T I O N
a well of
A broken heartI promised myself I'll never fall in love
Whenever I fall in love I feel renewed and happy
But like a drug
Once everything finishes
I'm crying, depressed and the wreckage of my heart
I always end up feeling worse
I want to find someone that is special
But I'm afraid to suffer again
I'm afraid of losing another person
Do not want to suffer
Do not make me suffer, do not lie to me
Do not hurt me, no more
I will not hold on to people who only sink me
I'll be free and live with have left
A cold and lonely spirit.
Why Do You Still Believe?I used to wonder how one could believe in a God who oppresses?
Who controls you, who uses you, whose unbreakable laws can lead to serious depression.
I wondered this because I know what it's like to be failed,
to be “abandoned” by God, and to be thrown in a personal hell.
But than I grew older and learned how to cope,
I learned that believing in God was like holding a tethered rope.
So I looked to the world and was surprised by what I had seen.
Together the believers were holding onto a broken string.
On the top of the rope God holds on tightly,
and towards the bottom, the believers cling to the Almighty.
Through oppression, through injustice bestowed upon them by God,
they refuse to release their grip, as their faith is stronger than their distrust of God.
Because God does not oppress, nor does He use or impose ridiculous laws,
it is humans who do this, never has it been God.
So they still believe in Him when they're murdered for their faith,
when they're bombed beca
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