Beneath Her Shimmering Gloom

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I favor her with endless pride
Shelved in solitude, high above all things
How she sheds wondrously
Kept in ivory splendor
Robed in mystery,
As the silent lender of romance

Tribulation halts
As the fear in me shrivels and dies
Domineering, within the cloudless heavens

Only you
Prevail over dormant eves
Still goddess of faultless porcelain

Only for you
Do I meet with gracious ecstasy
The conqueror of my rest
At the threshold of my gleaming reveries

And yet
She breeds nights of water
Mournfully cascading upon the lingering earth
Her anguish, streams down each humble rooftop
Along each lowly fence
And through my barren windowsill

Her heartache slithers along my bed sheets
Defiant, against the snarling and scowling shadows
Her gloomy essence, nestles along mine
A pain kept at bay
To dwell, safe within me

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Our Home Renewed

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Shredded banners of all stripes
Loom over the quivering dark
How torment kneels
Buckles and fades
As the hearts of many swell
No longer, burdened by fear

Anticipation
Rattles this new earth
Our home renewed, and proudly displayed
With shock riddled tears
That stream through the day
As tranquility spawns
From the eyes of those callously hushed

There is no danger
Locked in our forward stride
Gathered for the final push
Amassed in boiling pride

Still we fume for the lost
With vigor in our footsteps
An infernal courage within
Bred in silent ages past

We shall not falter

My Dying Epilogue

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If fate lends a deathly glare
Sparsely spent, grave and rare
Burden the embers with a fleeting memory
And off they’ll go, across the gloomy sea

It may seem a heinous deed
To desecrate those, graciously freed
I urge you, silence your loving greed
Then defer the footsteps of your precious seed

There is no more
Only tomorrow to attain
For sorrows past shall defiantly remain

Lark upon daylights threshold
And conquer the open, dashing and bold

I had a major panic attack today and while it was happening i somehow convinced myself that i was dying. In my head i kept thinking ” Oh no this it!” “Fuck, there is so much i have not done yet!” “Ive wasted my entire life!” “I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!” In that panicked stupor i wrote this poem, despite feeling like my entrails were being torn out.

Feral Voices in the Dark

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We’ve grown too accustomed to the caring breeze
That caters only, to its giving seeds
When dissent rears
And anguish emerges
The winds scoot them along
In swift, and silent purges

As turmoil aligns
At the helm of tomorrow
In a wave of torches along the horizon
The quiet ascend,
Boastful and aware
Bellowing of the horror,
That the winds have brushed away

Yet we become feral voices in the dark
Barking, at the tame murmurs of brethren
They roam, carelessly sent astray
Battling, the ominous cackle of cynics

Blood is drawn
And no one remains
They instead scatter in panicked disarray
Madly stumbling over one another
Stalemate after stalemate
Prisoner to an ever sprawling divide

Unify in outrage
And pour,
Into the earths many winding roads
Thrash, until the reigning wisps quiet
And gather from the wreckage,
In the stillness of promise

Our Cradle of Ruin

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We braced beneath thundering death
Drawn from adversaries
East and west

At the cusp of daybreak
Mayhem thrashed and reveled
As the blood hungry swarmed
And unraveled the bliss of home

Huddled in fear
The earth tremors elated
With shelter toppled
Constricting each dormant road

There was no escape
From this coil of peril
Doused in flame, plunder and death

Some held with valor
Others pitifully crumbled
As a fiery glimmer, trampled by conquest

Many more bid their hasty pardoning
Hoisting their fold
And receding into comfort
Yet the fiery glimmers, stubbornly remained
Lockstep, for the scorn of eternity

The Others

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They are
But staggering wreckage
Dwellers of the open world
As kneeling subjects,
To its sporadic cruelty

We are
But a shape-shifting spectacle
Come to bloom for the eyes of our own
Garbed in excess
And slathered, in its bright, beaming mayhem

They are
But wandering misery
Tried by winds of contempt
And sheets of falling disdain

We are
But the weary privileged
Rotund
And marred with quiet apathy

They are
But the tired many
Huddled
Beneath a worn and tattered illusion

Mind Your Footsteps

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Reveries have fallen quiet
And what was panorama
Has staled and crumbled
Yellowed by all the Others
Aligned for one and one alone

I stall in my shallow breaths
Flop into my own safety
Coiling, alone and ravaged by sickness
As my ravenous thoughts
Gorge upon my every festering nerve

I was predestined
To shutter among the rest
As a display of rumbling demolition
Displaced among the dust
The shards and jagged ruble

May wandering fools learn of me first
And divert their restless and meandering footsteps

Now Trending

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Trending: Romance
The skies lark, pristine and golden
Stirring to life those fortunately unbroken
Hopefulness breeds, like a fiendish youth
Rife with a hunger so savage and uncouth

Trending: Ease
Nestled beneath your heavy elation
Solitude spawns its heavenly sensation
Tracing your walls with sinful desperation
You’re body churns, full on jubilation

Trending: Strength
She strides with certainty boiling within
Brandish a solace, which knows no twin
How she braves the crude, and callously bold
As a luminous wander, carving gallantly through the cold

Trending: Dreams
Our own we hold
Trickling into clarity the less we fold
Fire bread daybreak’s are kept in toil
While silently we dream, meander and coil

Trending: Verses
Challenge the deep of your gushing days
Troubled by winds that spawn your say
Scuttle the might of a breathless delay
Pen through it all and crumble dismay

Trending: Freedom
Reign over your own
And scatter
From the seeds, sparsely sewn

The Playwright

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Another wrecked soul,
Has withered among his dreams
How they drained the sparks that remained
And damned his hollow carcass to its hellish fate
A cold farewell is somberly hoist
Billow not far behind
The black mourning trails
That stream from the highest steeple

What was once love
Peered shyly from her lone balcony
Unmoved by the mere trails in the bitter frost
Wrapped in her pink morning garb
She sought refuge
Beneath the tenderness, of a sibling’s swift treachery

And confined
The dreamer softly rattles
Eyes shut and bound by eternity
Forever more he’ll rest in black
With locks combed and carefully swept
Tailored to perfection for the looming earth

An organic affair
Spawned so long ago
Schemed with diligence,
By this dearly departed savior
How the stages endlessly larked his namesake
Rearing his timeless words
That bloom and prosper at the parting curtains

Streaks of joy
Pool beneath each wavering heart
Quieting, the outer bustle of existence
And many more file, to behold his seed
Rosy cheeked, with eyes of glimmering promise

They beam incessantly
Within the safety of a mother stage
Crooning, the songs of fatherly strife
Long after his silent passing

A drawn procession
Spills into a moonlit burial
As the hallows spark reverence for the lost
Glinting from the hands of huddled strangers
Trembling, feverishly in grief and despair

They bellow out of the darkness
Crying to a distant father
Faltering, winded and broken
As he is fed to the lowly depths
From which, he will never prevail

Alone he sank, pardoned off by strangers
Void of a kin’s true and loving farewell
Not one tear was shed from those treasured few
Consumed in their own winding existence
Affection, and remembrance
Eludes them all

Let him rest now
And join his perpetual dreams

Marooned to a Hardly Dormant Peace

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Summer of 1955

Locks of white
Stagger daily along the wharf
Converging to their maidens
Grande dames that flutter, graciously atop the sound

Through treacherous winds
They jolt for the mighty deep
Fuming with debauchery
And drunk on the sour spoils of kin

All to cast off the hefty years
Lingering, at the foot of each deathly tremor
Where colossal men, would stride into glory
Tin at the helm and bayonets at the ready

Spring of 1918

The silhouettes still thrash!
Scattered by malice
As ranks are pummeled and diced apart
Ravaged by chaos
Their fate, tolls within just the same
Poor fools spoiled, under the salvo’s hateful glare

And through the mists of ravenous horror
A warm glimmer, pierced the canopy of turmoil
It coiled around a youth of age nineteen
Garbed in armor, madness and searing valor

A hope so young
Beamed for this crowning warrior
Shielding his storm into the battered wilderness
Beyond every jagged stump
Through lowly craters, and above wire garbed trenches

She dubbed herself
His ghoulish keeper
Bound to docile ages past
The soul that wished him well
At the cusp of the frozen Atlantic
The soul, he was cruelly barred from bidding a solemn farewell
Coddled by silence and a frigid eternity

She settled above the heaps of carnage
Glistening with streaks of golden locks
Woven with precious glints of auburn
With every fiendish motion
She motioned as his stoic armor
Unfazed by the strewn suffering
And unmoved by the savagery of his jealous foe

The young man scaled to the top
And bolted for his vicious glory
He carved into its madness by bayonets edge
The smiles of his enemies, gushing by crimson pints
Beaming into dormancy, stained in fleeting honor
His ethereal guardian, slayed for his survival
Toiling mad, for the love of gracious death

Through torrents of fire
That raged incessantly day and night
The young stone heart of valor fought onward
Courted by bravery and backed by romance
He shed mournful affection
From within the faint sorrow of a quiet lull
The perished affair wafts faintly in remembrance
Holding young courage through hollowed nights of suffrage

The steeples tolled for everlasting peace
As the spell of armistice combed across the lands
Safety, had long forsaken him
Torn from the young lad at the ripe age of twenty
Forced to carry his honors alone
Heart broken and marooned
By the mounting weeks
And lapping elation, that carries bravery home