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LullabyCan you write me a lullaby to sing me to sleep?
I'll wait in blissful silence, not making a preep.
It'll start off slow and crescendo through the night,
And end after daybreak, as we watch the morning light.
We'll dance in our dreams, as the notes carry us along,
Merrily we'll lift our voices, drunk on another love song.
But when the morning comes the night ends,
And the parting of those dear old friends.
With every step your mind quakes,
And with every beat your heart aches.
And the melody starts coming on strong,
And you can't help to hum along.
Can you write me a lullaby?
So I'll remember you when we say goodbye.
Now wipe those tears from those dreary eyes,
And smile for me, as the sun begins to rise.
Words UnsaidSilent like a long goodbye,
Lonely like the darkest night,
Empty as the years gone by,
Drinking dreams till morning light.
These words ring inside my head,
Like church bells for the unsung.
And from my pen, these words bled
To find a grave on my tounge.
A note sits on my dresser,
Yellowed from the march of time.
Its lines are my confessor
To you-- it's my only crime.
EnigmaAs I peer through the darkness, you are the light
Like a fire that stretches towards the sky.
You're always out of reach, but in my sight
I'll never stop trying till the day I die.
You're something like an enigma my dear
One that someday I hope to solve.
And through eyes clouded, now clear
I begin anew, with strengthened resolve.
Snapshot Story: BetrayalThe burning light of the street lights pushes back the entrenched darkness that lay over the radiant beauty of the flower garden. A warm summer breeze blows, causing the flowers to dance. Two women walk through the well-worn path between two large rose bushes. The further they walk the more animated and tense their voices become.
“Damn it Amelia, you just don’t get it do you!” The shorter woman yells her face flush with anger. Her dark hair bobbing as she throws her head about. “What did you expect Emmy? Was I just supposed to let you go wild?!” Amelia yells back. “I’m not a child anymore, stop calling me ‘Emmy’,” Amelia lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Emily, you’re my kid sister, I got to…” “No, you don’t,” Emily yells tears welling up in her eyes. Off in the distance, a clap of thunder echoes.
The two women stand in silence, glaring at each other. “Come on let’s head back
The Swinging GirlAnother summer has come and gone, and a cold autumn wind blows across the silent, windswept field. In the field stands an old, weathered oak. The silent sentry grimaces as it is battered by the cold winds. Several of the leaves fall as the oak readies for a winter slumber. From the tangle of branches hangs an old wooden swing. A young girl sits in silence as she watches the crimson sun fade behind the distant mountains. In the distance, her mother watches from the kitchen of the small cottage that dots the landscape.
Beside the tree sits a tombstone; a small mound of fresh dirt lies beside it. The harsh winds die down as her mother calls out. “Come in dear, it’s time to go,” The girl slowly raises, her head hanging low. As she moves past the swing, it begins to move. Hearing the creaking branches, the girl turns back once, a single tear trickling down her cheek.
As she walks back, the sun gives a final wink before fading into twilight. A gentle breeze plays with the e
SoulsA film of sea salt clings to the window, like eyes who’ve cried for too long.
Dark clouds pirouette in the sky above,
They dance and twirl overhead, gracefully moving to the siren’s song.
Our vessel crashes over eddies, falling as God gives us a shove.
10,000 souls wait below, in the waters of the heartless sea,
Bones of the hungry, the lost and the dead.
The water rushes above the clouds, blue and grey is all to see,
Grasping air with wistful gazes, death is welcoming in her warm bed.
You can count the bubbles, one,
As the lights fade o
HandsI stare into my hand, clenched into a fist,
It’s shaking, from the fear and hate in my heart.
Coldly, I stand enveloped in the mist,
Created by a myriad of lies, of which I am a part.
I stare into my hand, open and outstretched,
It sits calmly, from the love and temperance in my heart.
Warmly, I stand under the sun, drenched,
In bliss, staring in awe of its cylindrical art.
I stare into my hand, its limp at my side,
It sits idle, from the fear and loneliness in my heart.
Empty, I stand in the forest, trying to hide,
In pity, trying to outrun the start.
I stare into my hand, dirty and bruised,
It’s battered, from all the lies in my heart.
Crying, I stand in the city, broken and used,
In the end, it seems that I wasn’t so smart.
WatchingIn this age of technology, things aren’t always what they seem. You can find out about anything you want with just the push of a button. Twitter, Facebook, Google Maps, Wikipedia… all of these sites are sending and collecting data. Each day, people expose themselves, and each day; a little more is lost.
Every day, trillions of bytes of data are accessed, but not always by us. They are known as the watchers. The watchers aren’t satellites or phishing protocols, they are living beings; but that is our only similarity. They sit in silence, watching the world through our eyes. As our technology grew, so did their “eyes”.
It first started with our satellites. This gave them their first blotted views. Much like an infants, their vision was blurred and spotty, nothing more than flashes in the dark. As time moved on, we gave them more “lenses” to focus through. Now… their vision far surpasses anything that we can hope to achieve.
At first, they
UnbeknownstA year in a day seems just to pass
By my world in a sorrowed “goodbye”
Leaving behind yet another one,
Echoed in the waves and pages.
You hold up your hands, and trace the lines,
Mapping the path of another’s soul.
And paint the stars into the night
Of someone else’s morning sky.
Now wipe those tears, please don’t cry
Your time has come,
let’s go play.
I’ll wake you up when the mornings gone
Just sit right there, and hold on tight.
I don’t know what I’m feeling...
But I like the way it tastes,
Like silken chocolate in a trash can
Can Your Parents Relate?You, the girl in the corner of your bedroom
That with each passing year since birth
Has had her confidence sold to those that stare
For so much less than it is worth
When it should be a priceless commodity
Especially to a doting dad
Is he not supposed to give to his child
All the things that he never had?
You, the girl in the corner of the classroom
That has forgotten how to smile
Are you tired of being told it’s just a phase
And you’ll snap out of it in a while?
It should be obvious that you are struggling
Especially to a loving mum
As she's already lived through those tearful days
That for you have yet to come
You, the girl hiding in the shadow you cast
Please accept your parent’s flaws
No matter what success or failure you taste
Do not let them be the cause
They created a life in love or in lust
Now nurturing has turned to neglect
A bird feeds her young till the day they can fly
So maybe now you should leave the nest
Beware Of The Bad BoySo he touches you in all of the right places
But with a clenched fist and not a gentle hand
By ‘right places’ I mean those easily hidden
By the latest expensive designer brand
Which he buys you to either keep your silence
Or to beg and to plead for your forgiveness
Is this where the attraction of a bad boy lies?
Please explain where is the excitement in this?
So he kisses you with a so-called passion
His hands round your neck steal a two letter word
It seems that he cannot feel satisfaction
Unless you show him signs that his dominance hurts
Which he tightens each time to keep your silence
Or maybe he just enjoys hearing you moan
Is this the deed of some stalker, some stranger?
No, this is your husband and this is your home
So he lays you out on the living room floor
I wonder what will fall down to the carpet first
The drops of blood from between your legs
Or the tears flowing between his regretful words
Which he whispers in your ear as you lay silent
It’s safe to say
Mana EllathaΜάνα Ελλάδα
Δε χωράω στα δεσμά σας,
Δε με τρομάζει η φωτιά σας,
Δε με γελά η πονηριά σας,
Κι ούτε με σκιάζουν τα σκυλιά σας!
Μόνο με σκιάζουν τα παιδιά μου
που δεν τα θρέφει η αγκαλιά μου,
Μόνο με σκιάζουν
Schrodinger's CatAm I alive? Or am I dead?
Have I just purred? Or have I bled?
Being locked in that dreadful box,
I have become a paradox.
A flask of poison on the floor,
A radioactive source in store,
And a hammer to judge my fate -
Try and define my doubtful state -
Am I alive? Or am I dead?
Have I just purred? Or have I bled?
Where are you? (poem)<3
Just us two,
Walking beyond the avenue,
Admiring the beautiful nature view,
Spending a moment only with you,
Is like.. a dream come true,
You're a friend worth holding onto,
O but there's one question;
Where are you?
Introspection in a Pale Moon LightAm I a dream of the universe?
A microcosm of the cosmos
A transient flash of memory
Soon forgotten for eternity
Am I a conscious collection of atoms?
Converging together at random
An essence in constant motion
Like a ripple upon the ocean
We are all made of star dust
Born when giant gas clouds combust
In a symphony of the spheres
Free from anxiety and of fears
We are never ending energy
Dancing across the galaxy
From Andromeda to the Milky Way
Like a ballerina in a ballet
BirdsThe birds are flaunting their wings by me
Knowing I can't fly.
What a joyful, blissful gift it is
To soar in the sky –
Racing softly through the winds
Up to touch the clouds.
That's the place to look for peace,
More is to be found.
The birds keep piercing through the morning streets
Free of people's vibes.
Reveling in the river's peaceful breeze
I'm only standing by.
Chirping merrily above
They must see best of life,
Making me, the wingless one,
Be glad that I'm alive.
The birds will always frisk across this scene,
Even when I die.
And ungodly hour colors bring
Enlightening sense of life.
No matter what may be,
Birds will be around.
Long as they are here to sing,
You'll be safe and sound.
Sleepy Summer EveningLate swallows swoop and pipistrelles skitter
To and fro across the house, skimming the eaves.
Against a soft darkening sky streaked with red
Gulls return to the bosom of mother sea.
The smell of grass rises sweet on the damp air.
While daisies quietly close their eyes in sleep
The blackbird sweetly sings a lullaby
And I to bed until his reveille.
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