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Dangerous Mind
India 18awards
Joined 25th June 2011
Forum Posts: 715

this is a dying poem

      
     
     
we can only hope      
the mess      
calling themselves      
your parents, mentioned   
that you're dying      
yes, we all end up dead      
     
some people        
stay married through it      
others don't      
some do it      
holding hands with love      
others never experience      
the emotion      
     
there will be those      
who dance through it      
while many will      
never have heard      
the music      
move their body      
     
you'll find the types      
who consume knowledge      
and those      
who couldn't care less      
the ones whose names are      
forever embedded in books      
and the ones  
who don't even appear      
on grave stones      
     
some people will pretend      
it's not true      
as their eyelids close, breathing      
across time zones,      
tropics, and the equator      
   
if in their mess, they forgot      
I'll be the messenger      
that let's you know      
you're dying      
and the best you can hope for      
is that you don't come back      
to die it again      
     
     
-once is surely enough      
     
     
     
     
     
 
Written by RevolutionAL (Alistair Plint)
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case28 said:

holy shit! how'd I miss this?!

Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Fire of Insight
England 5awards
Joined 4th Oct 2021
Forum Posts: 518

bump

Betty
Tyrant of Words
United States 27awards
Joined 8th May 2012
Forum Posts: 576

Marionette

Chaos, delusion; Amassed a kin    
We quiver and dance with mask and din    
Maneuver the depths  
Alas! We’re in    
Container the thoughts and rasp them thin    
   
Candour forced    
Becoming riled    
Tempters beguile the shaded child    
Wind whips through    
Tepid    
Wild    
Prune his roots; keep him mild    
   
Shelter them darlin’    
Keep them well    
Liquify their minds; make them swell    
Tinker and tine; the truth will tell    
Sprinkle design    
Escape this hell    
   
Fancy the dark; the wicked; profane    
Spill the glass    
Let it drain    
A sloven syntax; it’s how my words are lain    
Devoir and duty; a marionettes disdain    
   
A tier    
A toss    
A cancerous foe    
I dance the dance in which I know    
Tame the fortune; keep it low    
Curtail the breadth; no sense in tow    
   
Cannot rupture    
Cannot savour    
Can’t return the blind man’s favour    
Hold it close; don’t let it waver    
Consume it whilst it has no flavour    
   
Infect me slowly    
Harvest my thought    
Corrupt design; it’s how we’re wrought    
Valour defined as societal rot    
Snip the lines, we cannot be bought    
   
I wane    
Deflect    
Reject the chain    
I’ve rusted through, yet still remain    
I forge a path to keep me sane    
Pay your respects; to death, we feign
Written by Everavalon
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Betty
Tyrant of Words
United States 27awards
Joined 8th May 2012
Forum Posts: 576

Shots, Shots, And Aftermath Realisations

I’ve always wondered why
violence tastes like
crumbled cigarettes in ashtrays…..
 
The sound of swept glass
swishes and clinks  
bells played by tinkerbelle gone rogue
each scrape and tinkle is met with a silence as red as my eye
as swollen as Jim’s head
as black as Dave’s balls
 
The sweet scent of peach schnapps lingers on my polo shirt
its collar torn
and stretched
I’m nursing a pint that consists of
three quarters Cuervo and a quarter of
the last dregs of my sanity
 
Jason sits there blinking in slow motion,  
his normal hyperactive demeanour crushed under the weight
of the hell we just waded through
 
I poke at the torn flesh in my arm
pulling out a couple shattered shards or someone else’s bottle
the suction of flesh on glass is gooey
makes
my stomach churn
like bad butter…
 
for a victory drink
we were sullen and brooding
because the only win we had
was that none of us were dead
I chuckle into my alcoholic
delirium
 
tell Jim he looks like he’s growing
a tumour that’s  
as sexy as his mother in law  
from the side of his fucking head
 
make some joke about Dave blocking low kicks with his ball-bag
 
smear blood on Jason’s face because he got out unscathed.
 
Later my breath ragged in my lungs
I fall to my side
Ashleigh’s stargazing at the ceiling
ropes of cum drying on her tits
her cheeks rouge red
body still trembling
 
she snuggles into me
whispers that I feel like the sun
asks in the same hushed tone
why I revel in the fights so much
her fingers resting on bandages
 
I don’t have the heart to tell her
it’s the only thing
that makes me
feel
alive
so I kiss the back of her head
and whisper
I  
Don’t
Know…..
Written by Nevermindthegaps
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Betty
Tyrant of Words
United States 27awards
Joined 8th May 2012
Forum Posts: 576

The Iron Fist Of Absolute Control

be quiet
not a word
don’t dare
raise your voice
this is our
domain
we rule this
our way
you don’t
have a say

it don’t matter
if your right
i have the power
to put you down
my foot
has more weight
to stamp you
down hard
just know
your place

i’m watching you
every minute
waiting for
your mistakes
remember i’m perfect
your not
i only hear you
when I need too
your mine to control

feel as small
as you want to
in my eyes
you are nothing
not worth the air
you breathe
forget getting help
we control that too
Written by AspergerPoet56
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crimsin
Unveiling
Tyrant of Words
United States 126awards
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2765

17th Century Europe

Let me help you
Pain is all you have to endure
Let me cut you
Before the poison makes you turn

Your skin and flesh your blood and bone
Your heart your mind your soul will be torn
Rotten and forgotten before buried in the soil
When the torment stops you‘ll return to home

Those black stains you see
Are formed from the soul of thee
You are rotten to the core
I could try and help once more
But my doubt is too great
And I don't fear nor hate

Do not lie to me
Unlike you I can see
Do not beg of me
There is no remedy
Do not plague me
There are no words I can speak
To rid you from this curse
You should have earned your beak

Let me drain you
You have dark venom inside
Let me end you
You are the plague of your kind
Written by Vision_of_insanity
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Betty
Tyrant of Words
United States 27awards
Joined 8th May 2012
Forum Posts: 576

Tomorrow

If I were to
Drop dead
Tomorrow

Will anyone
Remember
In sorrow?

Would it
Even make
A difference?

Does it matter?
Or am too
insignificance?

Would anyone
Even Notice
I was gone?

Will they
Remember
The song

I lived
Or the words
I sang?

I lived
As if there
Was no tomorrow.

All the
Words I wrote
Are all so hollow.

I tried to leave
An ink of blood
In a word I said.

I tried to leave
A drop of blood
In a lover’s bed.

The lives I loved
already forgot
I was alive

The stories I wrote
already dead
Did not Survive

All that is left
Are two words
Itched on a stone

Fading away
Flying like sand
into the unknown

Just remember
One day when
You walk on me
 
On a beach
Somewhere
Beside the sea

That that is
Where I used
To love and play

And that is
Where I pray
For one day to stay
Written by Samnash (Sam Nash)
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