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Secrets - Merlin PoemHis eyes were as deep as the cold sea.
Sparks of magic spin around like a dance.
When his power shows, it's as though he's bare.
For he isn't like the others. He isn't plain.
Though his skin is smooth and ever so fair.
He is never crude. He is always fair.
Everyone is blind, for they cannot see.
He is everything. Spells fly like planes.
Incantations leave his lips in a dance.
His smooth layers are as strong as a tree.
For it holds much more than any can bare.
His mind is a spell book; never bare.
His eyes shine gold like the lanterns of the fair.
He stays rooted to society like trees.
But he rolls with the punches of the sea.
Light on his feet as though he were to dance,
Fast and smooth like the wings of a plane.
He wears nothing special; something so plain.
Red scarf around his neck to hide the bare.
Thin leather boots, keeping him free to dance.
Skin so soft and pale, so sweet and fare.
Cotton shirt as blue as the eyes he see.
Hair as night, messy like the leaves in trees.
He can sle
Not So Silly ToysPuff the Magic Dragon,
lived down the street,
Frolicked in the Autumn leaves,
in a place in the country.
Little Johnny Draper,
loved that silly puff.
Red toy cars and paper wings,
and other lavish stuff.
They ran though the forest,
chasing fire flies.
Hopping logs and swimming lakes,
ignoring those terrible lies.
Dragons lived forever,
but not so innocent boys.
They grow up fast and lose their way,
breaking bones and toys.
Dreams are forgotten,
promises lived no more.
LSD and cherry lanes,
frosted stony floors.
Even a mighty dragon,
such as Puff himself,
couldn't stop this chaos,
As the clock stopped at twelve.
Now that fearless dragon,
bowed his head in mourn.
With his tired scales and sorrow eyes,
he vanished to his cave of lorn.
The Whole World - PoemWhen the whole world's on your shoulders,
And the weight's too much to bear,
You feel like you're crumbling,
Like paper pulling to tear.
When the whole world's on your shoulders,
And the water's just too deep,
You feel so insignificant,
Like you're a worthless disgusting heap.
When the whole world's on your shoulders,
And the rope to safety snaps,
You feel like your suffocating,
Dying and withering in their traps.
When the whole world's on your shoulders,
And the snow turns your ankles blue,
You lose sight of everyone,
And I feel that way too.
Frangible - PoemThe fire had grown,
fueled by its own sickness.
The torn and the brittle,
the broken and the weak,
it aroused a demon inside;
one I thought to end.
It takes control of my limbs,
making my fingers dance,
all against my will.
It's claws dig into my nerves,
my back arching at its power.
Its laugh echoes through my head;
the only sound to be heard,
reminding me who I am,
and to whom I belong.
Toy Soldiers - Star Fox PoemI'm supposed to be the soldier who never loses his composure. The one that you look up to, the one that makes you sober. Even though I've got the weight of the whole world up on my shoulders.
And I'm never supposed to show it. Never let it fall. Even if the whole thing makes my heart stall.
But my team ain't supposed to know this, not know of the dark side. The dark side of this war, the side that kills your pride. Holds it up tight, like the moon holds the tide. Even if I lose myself, knowing that I've died.
Now I'd never drag them into battle, not knowing if I could win. Putting them in harm's way would only be a sin. These guys are like my brothers, they always got my back, even if I don't think I can help in the attack.
I'm supposed to set an example, be the one you wanna be. You're supposed to grow up, and wanna be like me. But I don't know if this is right, if the apple's suppose to fall from the same tree. After all, is this even truly me? Do I wanna walk around and act like I a
Rose PoemIn my arms,
Is where he lies...
In my arms,
Is where he dies...
In my heart,
Is where he kissed...
In my heart,
Is where he lissed
In my eyes,
Is where he flew...
In my eyes,
He is you...
My Own Guilty PleasureThe cat walked slowly... seductively almost. Those eyes; those bright, blue, crystel like eyes seemed so famliliar... where had I seen them before?
I was almost afraid as the cat jumped onto my bed. Then I felt a human hand on my chest, pushing me down, laying me flat. There was weight applied to my wrists, holding them back. Then there was a mouth at my ear. The lips moved and curved as breath passed through them, creating words and causing shivers to dance down my spin. The voice was soothing and soft, but there was still something in it that alarmed my senses.
The voice was a male's, who's blonde hair now tickled my cheek, "Welcome home, Master..." he whispered.
The was cat gone, though maybe not completely. My own guilty pleasure now showed itself to me. Being real or not, I knew I would not sleep tonight...
Doesn't MatterHow many tears have I cried?
I think I've lost count
How many screams have escaped from my throat?
It's sore to the touch
How many hours have I sat here alone?
I'm rather cold
How many shades of sorrow have flashed through my eyes?
Maybe I should be blue eyed instead
How many promises have we given each other?
Because I don't think they matter any more
My StrengthMy Strength
This pressure on my chest,
Oh how it holds me down
It's not good nor evil,
It's not sickening or weakening,
I'm not sure what it is,
To make it more in-depth,
But I know that when you say those words, it returns,
With more of a bite than did the last.
Those words make my heart whimper,
They make my breath hitch.
They cry a sad song that only you know,
But sing a much deeper tone.
You look deep into my eyes,
And deep into my soul.
When those words escape your lips,
I seem to tremble.
My eyes prickle,
And I soon discover that I'm crying.
Your words are not hateful;
They are not vein.
They are not bitter, nor sweet
They can take the place of Hell,
And still be beautiful.
I close my eyes,
And you whisper those words to me one last time.
Your breath is sweet,
And I want to kiss you,
But when I open my eyes,
You have already disappeared,
Taking my strength with you
I am a MouseI am a mouse.
I am quiet, I am nothing.
I am a book that nobody has read.
I am an eclipsed sun and a cloaked moon.
I am irrelevant and unwanted, a broken toy in an attic.
I am the dust in your rear-view mirror that you leave behind.
I am the air that you breathe in and spit out as something different.
I am the palest white. I am the darkest black. I am the dullest, emptiest grey.
I am the old man with forgotten memories and the baby who has yet to make them.
I am a forgotten word, dangling on the tip of your tongue, hanging on the noose of your lips.
I am a dried up stream. I am a felled forest. I am an abandoned cornucopia of resolute nothingness.
And there is Hell burning in my eyes.
PainParalized by the suffering
A shiver down my spine
Images of my past haunt me
No one can save me from this hell
to me you are perfect
I do not know the reasons
for all those scars burning
against your bright skin
you've been soaking
a pain reminiscing from past
we both cannot recollect
yet you are so beautiful..
when night gets darker
and I am the one...
who's hungered to undress
the spirit of you
slowly revealing the layers
coming off from shadows
disguised in desires
craving to be fulfilled
I will caress every corner
of your silhouette
until I figure the true shape
of your heart
I will rub those blisters
softly until every nerve
of you gushes into a river
and you moan into a life
I had promised you
years ago when we began
to breathe into each other
for all the truths
I must swallow
and lessons I must learn
you are the one
I am destined to discover
what it means
to love in perfection
A void within meAlone on this inhospitable night, once again
I let my memories guide my lost steps,
Wandering amid the ghosts of my past.
As I walk along the quay,
I stare at the feeble Seine flowing:
She's dying by the street lamps' hands
While the whole city asphyxiates.
Reflecting my own lack of humanity
Over the river's lighted surface,
Griefs come and go at the water's rhythm.
Once again, on this breathtaking night,
My feelings are sealed and my chest hollow.
Purple rain, chills of cold.... Or regret? I crave
My musical drug, my remaining salvation,
Spreading a sweet poison within me and
Eroding the remaining happiness I still have.
I plug my headphones...
A grin of relief appears on my weary face,
I flee to lenient lands, where a familiar Angel tucks me in.
These notes of violin split the immutable silence,
Fill the hole in, lit a bonfire to my soul.
This mermaid sings my dreams to me,
i can't keep walking on these dry-rot bonesoh, i am not a poet;
like the ink scratches
of plath, i am
specter boy: decay,
dispose, & disappoint
because this is the way
that writers wane -
(this hangman head is no
survivor story, & gods
do not burn out
you talk like a travestyoh, mercury boy, you can't
write your way out of this
body or out of this mind;
you can pray like it's high-fashion,
insist you're only burning yourself out
(but tell me - do you feel like a god yet?)
if only for murky mirrors &
silver cicadas caught
in your ribcage, you've
got a knack for decaying
The PointIt’s the taste of cake mix on the spoon, that first time you ‘help’ bake a cake.
It’s seeing the bright world afresh after a dark nightmare, when you first wake.
It’s when you make them laugh and, in that moment, everyone loves a clown.
It’s when your heart stops before the roller coaster plummets down, down.
It’s when the lights go out before your favourite band plays and you scream.
It’s that moment you look around and everything’s perfect enough to be a dream.
It’s the anticipation of waiting for a new episode of your favourite television show.
It’s the first time you listen to your favourite record and you just sort of know.
It’s reading a book cover-to-cover and a million times more and still crying at the ending.
It’s the stiff, tight, real feeling of a smiling scab as you watch the wound mending.
It’s when you first meet your best friend and you hate each other (but in a good way).
california wintersthe tears
I rationed have all
run out. Tuesday comes
up behind me and steals
my breath; my cat snores.
she can’t sleep soundly
since she lost her seventh
life. I’m like that, I’m always
worried someone will try to steal
what I’ve already given away.
I miss color. newsprint sobs
washed me out. I am a
blank canvas, I am a faceless,
I am one
of you. I wake up sweating
and it’s winter and I can’t
sleep because my memories
follow me between my sheets;
jake still won’t listen.
we never knew we were the
lucky ones, we scarred, too. don’t
touch me. don’t want
me, don’t bare my bones
when you think I’m not
watching. I’m afraid of
myself. breathing loud
enough that others know
I exist; you follow me,
needing, laughing, it’s
a game. who has lost
the most, we all want
to win; I’m so tired, so scared,
there’s no one in the world
who sees me. I can’t cry.
we’re in a drought.
Why I've Died PoemI loved you,
I cherished you...
I held you when you cried,
I'd hold you when you die...
You've grabbed the knife,
You've taken my life...
You've stole my soul,
I've taken the toll...
I should have known,
That I'd die alone...
Alone in this pool,
Of betrayal and fool...
To give you my heart,
Was definitely the start,
Of this burning hating,
This gruesome fate...
I shall never love again,
From now to then...
You've taken my ability,
And showed my hostility,
When I showed you love,
But only to be shoved...
Aside from this world,
No longer a that pearl,
In your shining eyes,
Of nothing but lies...
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More