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Literature Text
There is so much confusion
within this cold and broken world.
My voice tries hard to reach you
but is lost in all of the noise.
How we look to the sky and question
how could this happen to me?
So alone and surrounded by strangers
longing for more over all the voices.
As the sirens blared I realized
of an unspeakable truth.
Of a void deep inside my heart
how lonely it would be without you here.
Left so unsure of what to believe
please trust my arms in this embrace.
that in darkness there can exist a light
even if feelings are the only constant.
And as all we've ever known burns
with our memories to the ground.
As embers of this world crashes down
I'll still be here by your side.
I'll send you my heart unwavering
if it may be the last beacon of hope.
On the wings of a bright red cardinal
flying so high and proud in the wind.
Lets find a happiness together
even if it is a fractured peace.
Somewhere in the unknown future
just you and me, lets create our own.
within this cold and broken world.
My voice tries hard to reach you
but is lost in all of the noise.
How we look to the sky and question
how could this happen to me?
So alone and surrounded by strangers
longing for more over all the voices.
As the sirens blared I realized
of an unspeakable truth.
Of a void deep inside my heart
how lonely it would be without you here.
Left so unsure of what to believe
please trust my arms in this embrace.
that in darkness there can exist a light
even if feelings are the only constant.
And as all we've ever known burns
with our memories to the ground.
As embers of this world crashes down
I'll still be here by your side.
I'll send you my heart unwavering
if it may be the last beacon of hope.
On the wings of a bright red cardinal
flying so high and proud in the wind.
Lets find a happiness together
even if it is a fractured peace.
Somewhere in the unknown future
just you and me, lets create our own.
Literature
Phantom
She's always seen during
daylight -
yet her beauty is
nocturnal.
I, with shaking hands
[and nerves],
wrapped her round me
like a scarf,
though she still gives
me midnight chills
and spasms of pain
Her friends pick daisies and
pierce the stems with their
fingernails,
link them together like
Literature
Visitor
There is a ghost doing handstands on my front lawn,
wrist-deep in fresh soil. Her hands are birds
in flight.
It's late, but no one comes to take her home.
The pale moon offers a silver smile -
the clouds disapprove.
Too tired to dream, she buries her legs in sky.
Tonight she is invincible, untouchable,
this frail girl beneath the stars
this death in light.
-
There is a ghost doing handstands on my front lawn,
falling to her white knees. Her stare is a pane
of glass.
The eyes of the living are often murky but
the eyes of the gone
are windows.
Literature
Of Blood and Ink
I've met a boy
between the pages of a book
where the last true people live
their lives
marked as
delusions and lies
I've met a boy there
in a land of thoughts and pains
he carried his soul
ghostly and gray
embraced by flesh of ink and blood
a spirit in a cage of black and red
painted by silvered ash
and iron-steel
I've met a boy made of parchment
and stabbing pain behind my eyes
and somehow he is dear to me
like a jewel in my
collection of fantasy
though I know
many call him cruel
evil and rude
no morals, no noble law
never hero
far from it
a vow breaker
dirty killer
tricky cheater
and a heart without a soul
but I also see raw clear honest
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