[x]

My Painting of YouI painted you today.
Rolled up the paper,
and carried you in hand.

Gave you to a girl,
with your eyes,
and chestnuts in her hair,
like yours.

Made her smile,
seeing butterflies in a field,
but she gave you back,
when she saw
they are going in the sunset.

I put you on
my dreaming wall,
to be my last glimpse,
of my world
before I remember
you're only a painting.

I Caught a Falling StarI caught a falling star
And put it in my pocket
Didn't want it to fade away

I caught a falling star
And put it in my pocket
Saved it for a rainy day

On a rainy day
I took it out to play
But its light had faded away

On this loveless night
I had a star with no light
To keep my tears at bay

My wayIs my way dead?
The way of honor?
I am left here,
To sit and ponder.

Is my way dead?
To not let fools talk down to my kin?
I plea softly,
In hopes I can cleanse my sin.

My way is true,
My body beaten and broken,
Through my honor,
My will brought up to ten.

My way is True.
To break free the bonds of this land
To once again,
Feel What is true in my hand

Message in Time
                                                                o ye feral demons sinister and wise
                                                                   who labor hate for hate's sake

AvalonAvalon

Disaster struck upon the Earth
Chaos spread like a wildfire
And the humanity split
Turning on one another

Soon nothing was left but the bare dust of the burned
The virus spread and killed everyone
And in time the dead came back to life
Hunting the living and punishing them for their sins

The Armageddon came and we couldn't escape
The world fell in to the dust of destruction
With each day the living decay as the dead arise
With each moment the remains of humanity fade

The sun blazes over the dying lands
The dry rivers and burned fields
Only the road keeps on going forever
Only the road keeps us alive

We move from

StifledWe kissed in the shade of oak trees.
We held hands in the chill of the river.
We ignored the council of wiser men.
And now our love lives like that summer:
It shall ne'er bear heat again.

My Sweet ShadowMy sweet shadow
You're always with me
My sweet darkness
I guess that you care
My sweet emptiness
You're the one I can turn to
My sweet shadow
You will always be there

My sweet dream
You make me sick
My sweet illusion
Lies is what I'm feed
My sweet hope
You build me up
My sweet dream
Still you do it to break me down

My sweet knife
Make me whole
My sweet blade
I want to rape my skin
My sweet dagger
I want to feel alive
My sweet knife
Please make me die

Sticks and StonesI'm not emotionally unstable.

I don't cut.

I don't only sleep after I cry.

I don't self harm.

I don't want to die.

I'm not who I am because of my music.

I'm not who I am because of school.

I'm not who I am because of what I watch.

I'm not who I am because I'm trying to be cool.

I don't want to gain attention.

I don't want scars either way.

I don't want to be judged.

I don't want to mocked because I stay.

I hate when you call me emo.

I hate when you call me dyke.

I hate that you're my family.

I hate that you hurt me through spite.

Today I heard you say;

That if I changed school I wouldn't be emo.

You're like my second father

Silence.When the silence comes
we will be called the contemplators,
originators but never innovators.
We will serenade ourselves at night
with the arabesque pinwheels
of the unquantifiable, and the inescapably
abstract pooling behind
closed eyelids.

Abstract and abstruse.
It's in our nature –
we are the tawny wings
pasted on scrawny and thick
bodies, waiting for anyone to turn
on the lamp and suck us in.
We hope for heaven,
and only get burned.

But when it comes
we'll be waiting. We were never
outspoken – listeners,
not storytellers, because no one
ever wants our stories.
We're the ones left behind
but left intact

FingerprintsFingerprints
irrefutably unique
nude swirls that
grate against
everything we touch
retains our identity
permits us to
rage against the hanging
in the slipknot of time
nearly as faithful as DNA
till death do us
silence

YouthRiding great mares we
braved the winds to climb perilous mountainous tress.
And we swam the great oceans
that were raging sandpits where monsters lurked.

And we effortlessly battled
till dusk, the fiercest creatures of nettles.
Then basked in warn summers riches,
as we were rewarded like heroes.

Beside each over we bore the brunt
of angry remarks about dirty jeans.
And how our armour was torn
as weary of a fretful day's use.

Oh the feasts we enjoyed
at each other's homes, our castles
to nights cold horrors.
In forts of pillows, we cooked up more adventures.

We swallowed tears
and gasps at mortal wounds.
Until the h

RegressDark swelling eyes with circles underneath
reek the havoc of the peace you try to seek

You can no longer hide
Behind your veil so white
The words spoken are eating you alive

You refuse to comprehend
And face what you fear
You float and Bob,
Trying to swim with your beer

You choose to fight this battle on your own
Dumbass! Just pick up the phone

People are close,
Closer than you think
Like a stalker in the daylight
When they're weak

I want to scream
And spit pity in your face
Empty the hurt
That dwells in your case

Fighting with a ghost
Yeah, that's real sane
I worry you wont come back
You need to feel the pain

I'm done

A Letter to No OneThe clock ticked against silence,
Upon the cemetery of a room.
Deep sighs weave through the air,
Meager warmth in compressed despair.

Moths fall prey to a musty lampshade,
An opened window to Night’s gloom.
Thoughts dance like ripples on water,
And clouds on the hiding moon.

A lullaby plays from the gentle sound,
Made by scratching pen on paper.
One story told too many times,
Is voiced from words created.

Though this time revived from lies,
A phoenix forms the ugly truth.
The pen rolls from the wooden desk,
Having served its final use.

Old dusty dolls and teddy bears,
Watched helplessly through glassy eyes.
No star showed to twinkl

I Live In a Glass House I live in a glass house,
with a head full of stones.
With more reflections than I can count,
I'm never alone.
I'm making a living not a killing
so watch what's thrown.

A thought I'm frightened to free.
One last phrase I'm afraid to say.
Another point I'm scared to make.
These words won't work on your hurt
but maybe they can make it better.

I sometimes think of the past
and how a glass heart won't last.
Blood would still beat
though every broken shard.
I couldn't stop it's beating
anymore than my breathing.
Broken glass would start flowing
through every pulsing vein.
I see no point in speaking
words that hold no meaning.

32.What I do is for me
For my better or worse
What I do has consequences
That I learn to deal with

What do you do
When your consequences
Tug at your opinion of self
Questions your credibility
Makes you doubt everything until this point

There is self evaluation
You see you may not be the angel you thought you were
Not the Godsend you thought you were
You may not be what is best
And then what do you do…

Do you allow growth without your presence?
Do you suck it up and push thru?
Do you do what you think is best, eventho your view may be clouded?

Lost with no direction
Making no decisions
But thinking heavily

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Flaking Photographs We see the greatness
of faces belittled
in   little boxes
with windows;
still
shattered stairs.
by

  Yielded

EchoesCatching leafy words as they fall
in a paper hat, and brooding them to hatch,
is a remove with her heart in hand
caged in a scepter that resonates;
beating for the universe, and
shaking the bones of his remote world;
cracking the desolate dais he sits upon.
Amidst a square, their play-place
is waxing into the Grand Guignol;
with her, the sinister puppeteer,
enticing the strings that this seamstress
unsew from his tapestry;
yarning the shadows on her rings, and
commanding them to sing her echo.
Through their husks, tenuous silhouettes
bleak the phosphenes, and dredge
them over the pastures of breadcrumbs
below a flock coveting from a tree;
as an infantile craze to see them
soar above the cenote is yielding
their bodies to water her seeds.
When the summer breeze sows a trail
of longing under her arc of conquest,
his sky is sooting with each fallen bird;
birthing muse driven night-terrors
that loom behind the riffs in reality;
unsoothing their chimeras to
tear the fragile pi

A Love Affair with a DemonHe breezes brazenly
through the pyre that
burned her door;
and in that fiery frame,
he is as beautiful,
but for the stillness
of her masterpiece;
of whispering embers that
cinder everything
that once kindled us;
then bearing the ashes to
our hearth, where
they devour her heat
in morsels. Each sleep,
I become his harlot
in a brimstone debonair
covered with rags of hugs,
but woven for dead men
by her arms;
so I lay not naked
in his coffin of despair,
but drape myself
with the moon.

HomeAll the autumn orphans
sought refuge
Under her beret;
blanketing themselves with charcoal
against the inexorable beast.

She herded them with the look
that tamed that wolf;
and blushing and rushing
underneath her feet
they were frolicking with her steps.

Then hiding in her coat,
under a velvet sky,
her pockets became homes
to all those scented and painted cries
that fell with the rain.

It was time for their lullaby
when her smile spread the purpure
over the copper trees;
so that we cradle the fallen in our hands,
while reaping the harvest to eat.

West of the SunWhen our worded train
was about to derail,
I saw 'una donna bella'
with hair as the olives
from the groves
where we trailed,
and stole kisses.
She was a more enticing read
than the one absent,
as the sweet red in her lips
was what the wine vapors
were searching for
just to make sense
once more.
Splitting from her locks,
like the grass we were picking,
were her bladed words;
splicing together
in seamless strands,
and cutting south
like flocks of birds.

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Submitted: September 18, 2012
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Supermassive Black Hole

by ~Pr0metheusUnb0und, Sep 18, 2012, 6:55:49 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Strings of starless strands
lasso my sanity,
as a Lyzzard's tongue
slays unawares a fly.

Distorted snarls melt
my glaciers in the dead of night;
vibrating in the frequency
of tachycardia.

Falling upwards
in your wells of gravity,
you set my soul alight;
spinning towards the singularity.

A blink before the light,
the brims of Space
of satin waves
smile and unweave a word:
"What?"

Supermassive Black Holeby ~Pr0metheusUnb0und

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

The Face grows more vague with each passing day. Fibers of Muse driven dreams fill in the gaps of reality.

Muse - Supermassive Black Hole [link]

*Photopathica Nov 11, 2012 General Artist

Hi!
We have chosen your work for our Featured Folder for November!
This piece has been featured here: [link]

On behalf of:

~Pr0metheusUnb0und Nov 11, 2012

thank you kindly.

*Photopathica Nov 11, 2012 General Artist

welcome

=AzizrianDaoXrak Oct 4, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Hi there! I just wanted to let you know your piece has been featured here: [link]

Keep up the beautiful work!

~Pr0metheusUnb0und Oct 4, 2012

Why thank you very much for your kind words.

=AzizrianDaoXrak Oct 4, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

You're welcome!

~lalaith913 Sep 21, 2012 Writer

You had me at the title haha. This is a really cool response to the song. Awesome!

~Pr0metheusUnb0und Sep 22, 2012

...and to something else. THANKS!

~EternallyForsaken Sep 19, 2012 Writer

Very nice poem. I can't stop reading it. But WOW, I LOVE that song by Muse. I used to listen to it all the time... It's been awhile since I've heard it.

~Pr0metheusUnb0und Sep 20, 2012

Yeeee, you have to had listened to it in order to get the whole poem. Thanks for your support though. Cheers.

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Supermassive Black Hole

Supermassive Black Holeby ~Pr0metheusUnb0und

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