Submissions by Firefox313 (Ella)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I live by the rule of questioning everything, and love nothing more than for people to question me. I am fiercely loyal to any cause I take up, and only take up causes that benefit those who need it. My poetry is a direct reflection of myself.
The key's ribbon.
A lock and key,
and only one belongs to me.
The box of secrets,
behind a glass wall,
begging to be opened,
determinedly closed.
The ribbon on the key,
frayed from worry,
barely holding on
to the hope of knowing
what the box holds;
its' secrets,
Finally told.
and only one belongs to me.
The box of secrets,
behind a glass wall,
begging to be opened,
determinedly closed.
The ribbon on the key,
frayed from worry,
barely holding on
to the hope of knowing
what the box holds;
its' secrets,
Finally told.
717 reads
1 Comment
The lights.
I remember,
silence in the night
but no more,
now it rings of a glorious fight.
Light from the wars
glimmer across the floor
and illuminate the sky.
Some wonder why,
and the young ones still cry,
as their fathers never return home,
and their sisters and brothers
recieve the call
and hope remains small
for the sisters
the brothers, the fathers, the mothers,
the children, the husbands, the wives.
Marching. Praying.
Fighting. Weeping.
With all these precious lives,
how could it be that I survived?
silence in the night
but no more,
now it rings of a glorious fight.
Light from the wars
glimmer across the floor
and illuminate the sky.
Some wonder why,
and the young ones still cry,
as their fathers never return home,
and their sisters and brothers
recieve the call
and hope remains small
for the sisters
the brothers, the fathers, the mothers,
the children, the husbands, the wives.
Marching. Praying.
Fighting. Weeping.
With all these precious lives,
how could it be that I survived?
574 reads
0 Comments
The ribbon's key.
A key, cold and heavy,
barely hanging on,
to a thread of a ribbon,
worn down over time.
Ragged from worry,
weary from a key,
that fits no lock
that I can find.
But in my heart,
one thought will bind:
Somewhere in the ether,
a slot lies waiting
for a key
it might never see.
Behind the lock
is a mystery,
an empty void
could be all that is there.
As for now
the key just hangs waiting,
for the thread to break,
for a lock to appear.
barely hanging on,
to a thread of a ribbon,
worn down over time.
Ragged from worry,
weary from a key,
that fits no lock
that I can find.
But in my heart,
one thought will bind:
Somewhere in the ether,
a slot lies waiting
for a key
it might never see.
Behind the lock
is a mystery,
an empty void
could be all that is there.
As for now
the key just hangs waiting,
for the thread to break,
for a lock to appear.
787 reads
0 Comments
Sewn
Door blown open; thoughts unknown
A long, long walk
But her shoes were sewn
To the path she'd chosen at seventeen,
But everyone says that age means...
Nothing can help a the hole is dug deeper
And she sinks further
Going backwards and down
The hell in life is easily found
By a heart like hers, broken and still beating
A glimpse of the light
But hope is fleeting
Window blown open; thoughts unknown
A long, long run but her shoes were sewn
To the path she'd chosen at seventeen
But no one says that age means...
Anything but...
A long, long walk
But her shoes were sewn
To the path she'd chosen at seventeen,
But everyone says that age means...
Nothing can help a the hole is dug deeper
And she sinks further
Going backwards and down
The hell in life is easily found
By a heart like hers, broken and still beating
A glimpse of the light
But hope is fleeting
Window blown open; thoughts unknown
A long, long run but her shoes were sewn
To the path she'd chosen at seventeen
But no one says that age means...
Anything but...
703 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Firefox313 (Ella)
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