Under the dark clouds of night, I see you go
Away from us, your home, where I don't know
Determined you seem, with your hurry and rigidity
But is that really so? I'd rather think it stupidity
Much like your father you do look, same eyes
I wonder what he would have said, if there were no demise?
You're following in the footsteps of your father's father
I know there's more to it than that, but why bother?
With all these plots and twists and schemes
It's hard to gather who and what are your teams
I just hope you remember who you are, where you're from
Even if our relationship might seem odd to some
Family, duty, honor, these things you've heard before
Keep true to yourself, and remember what you swore
Beyond those mountains, other worlds may lie
But there's a time and place to go there, for you to fly
The skies are falling all around me, and I fear for you
I pray that my dreams of you don't come true
I believe there is still hope, but it is crumbling
Slowly, day by day, I notice I keep stumbling
Will our linage stand strong after all this is over?
Or will we all be buried under the golder clover?
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Literature
8-10-14
Desperately searching for a means of acceptance,
I miserably resort to half-hearted repentance.
If God has it within His heart to forgive,
Then what reason do I have not to sin?
Literature
12.2
I wear my lies like armour.
Sliding off the metal before sliding into our bed.
Truth draped over my bones in the form of flesh.
Sinew and bone cannot tell a lie.
I refuse to speak.
These lungs and the air that escapes them have been steeped in the blackness of untruths.
Any breath taken or recieved is living proof.
And your lips and their softness slide across my neck like the tightning of a noose.
Bringing a little more death with every touch of love, of which I am unworthy.
As the darkness of night envelopes us,
as the quickness of your body and the force of your rhythm masks my unwanted pleasure,
I am helpless.
I lie, unprotected and power
Literature
Labyrinth of the Physical Form
You dare to wander throughout the catacombs
And search every scum-filled corner
In search of something you may never find.
Be careful,
For the blood dripping down the walls will stain your white shirt
And the grim underneath will wear your feet down.
You'll become entangled in the tendrils of my faults,
And the sins will ensnare you in a death grip.
The air is suffocating
And the walls drip with poison of the mind.
The inner passage
To my heart, somehow still beating,
Is not worthwhile,
Yet you insist on finding the me
That's still lost in a dream.
You shine so bright
In my darkness,
I don't want to put you out.
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Comments3
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I can understand this poem and I like how it starts out but the last bit sounds a bit Chirstiany for my likes. Not sure if you meant it that why or not. But other then that I really liked it.
Oh and hint it would be better if you left a sumerry of the idea behind the poem next time.
Oh and hint it would be better if you left a sumerry of the idea behind the poem next time.