Miss Moffet ColabMiss Moffet Colab7 months ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
The tide of time recedes and leaves
a bittersweet taste on my gentle lips
of your goodbye kiss of bliss and sorrow
that death, closely keeps
darkness is filling everything
in the nothingness of the night, I have no more light
even memories of what I used to be are dissolving
my past, my present, my future... blurring
surrounding my veins, closing me in this molding
The many-hued honeymoon painting is fading
also broken by your hands, lusting for the opal on my wedding ring
yet… the ghosts you have forgotten in your life
returns with the grass fields and seeds every Spring
awakening me from my sleep,
sweet was my name pronounced
Guardian DryadGuardian Dryad10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
A fragrant whisper rustles,
hushed and tawny,
from the movement
of her flowered hair
as she turns her head
to peer within you,
with eyes bright and searching,
a gaze, which casts aside
the darkened gloom
and throws deception to the winds
of unveiling truth;
they dare you to play the fool.
Her magic is in the light
of those penetrating eyes.
The angelic oval
of her enchanting face
draws you to them,
The soft pout of inviting lips
in that distracting stare.
The girl you thought you saw
evolves before your eyes
into the woman
whom you cannot bear to see
FaithFaith1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the faith of a child
complete trust in purest form
has no boundaries
Two Skies [Crop Circle OST]Night of the twinkling starsTwo Skies [Crop Circle OST]4 months ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Fire that burns my heart
And that's when I saw you
I ran up to you
And you spreads your wings and fly away
So I'm drowning in tears
I reach up the sky
And someday I too, will touch your hands once more
We'll be just like before
When you grabbed my hands and showed me your world
Let me say one thing
The deepest darkest secret of my heart
Tell me why you left me behind?
Isn't my world good enough?
For you to stay by my side
Or did you choose another life
Tell why you decided to leave?
You said it was for my happiness
We're just two different people
Nothing else matters to me
Nothing else matters to
Tannhauser Poem ITannhauser Poem1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Wolfram let the fair maid die,
transfigured hair and angel's wing,
an end that only God could wish.
He loved their winter into spring.
Wolfram was a noble man.
He kept a vigil in the night
and scattered shepherds on the hill
did see the two in blessed light.
He did not touch the virgin's hand.
He dared not let himself begin.
He watched her vie for higher things:
Elisabeth died for Tannhauser's sin.
And Tannhauser lived as best he could.
Wolfram wrote poems to exhalt the past.
These men stem from legends and so it would seem
that Tannhauser's soul was a part of the dream.
Wolfram was scribe, a collector of tale
SilenceThe gentle silence that once was oursSilence1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
has turned into a funeral mourning.
Each stillness amounts to many faults
which I had learned to love.
Will there be whole days coming
of nothing to talk about?
But each moment has its meaning
even stiff, unyielding ones
when you won't hold me,
when you won't try to learn
what I am thinking,
when you won't even care.
Then, there will also be silent tears.
No storm rumbles at its end.
The streets remain wet
only until the sunshine.
Since we are over,
let there be no thunder or overcast.
Let ours be a quiet year
until it fades...ours no longer.
The Hadley House I woke up and tried to straighten up, finding that I couldn’t. There were... things all over me, though I couldn’t see what they were - it was pitch black. The noise created by my sudden kicking and thrashing made me realise these were some sort of metallic containers, and the reverbation revealed that I was lying inside a rather small room. I felt a cold liquid saturating my clothes, and as I touched it my fingers got all sticky. I tried to get up again and that’s when it finally came through all the nerve barriers – a horrible, numbing headache. Oh God, the headache. Like a pulsating, ravenous hammer bent on punching a thousand nails into my brain. One of those containers must have hit me really hard in the head when I came to. I could barely think. God, it hurt so much.The Hadley House11 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
The air was getting stale and I realised I had to get out of there as soon as possible. Somehow I managed to ignore the headache and lift