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Literature Text
What does one do when all is lost?
One may say that one should die,
But death is not an option.
What does one say when all is lost?
Do you finely speak your heart,
Or talk of sweet nothings?
What does one hear when all is lost?
One would think you would hear the truth,
Or is that just another thing to lose?
What does one feel when all is lost?
Would you cry for the days gone away,
Or is there nothing left?
What does one chose when all is lost?
We know what the answer is,
There is no chose left here to wonder.
What is left for one who is lost?
Nothing.
One may say that one should die,
But death is not an option.
What does one say when all is lost?
Do you finely speak your heart,
Or talk of sweet nothings?
What does one hear when all is lost?
One would think you would hear the truth,
Or is that just another thing to lose?
What does one feel when all is lost?
Would you cry for the days gone away,
Or is there nothing left?
What does one chose when all is lost?
We know what the answer is,
There is no chose left here to wonder.
What is left for one who is lost?
Nothing.
Literature
Fallen
When I was little, I held my hands up
and there was always a bigger pair
there to pick me up, raise me up
Dark and cold both accumulate near the ground
but I had found
a path to heaven, now forgotten
as the earth turns 'round;
So overcome by confusion, how...?
I can't cast my demons out
one devil still pulls me down
off the earth and off my gentle cloud
I lay upon the ground,
bloodied, broken, beaten down
and lament my fate, silenced now
He recalls his immoralities as if
they were someone else's little slips
and though his words have scarred me
much deeper than any knife or whip
he parades through town, a man, a god
going on about life as
Literature
On The Threshold of Creation
Daughter of Hecate,
I was born upon the threshold
of one year and the next:
a tiny earthen creature,
awash in a sea of stars.
Too late did I remember
Capricorn is the goat with
the tail of a fish,
and perhaps my legs were never meant
to tread upon the earth.
I've heard tell
that Saturn is the harshest master,
and will never be satisfied
by words alone.
In the beginning I was sure-footed
as the goat who glitters in stars above me,
ideas sprung full-grown from my head,
as Athena born from Zeus
Too late do I recall
that prophecy foretold,
Zeus' own creation
would surpass even him.
I'm still trying to puzzle out
whether my own creation
will
Literature
My Suicide Machine
I’ll wrap you up in duct tape
For sealing in the gas
Place cardboard over every vent
Breathe every fume en masse
Embrace pictures oh so dear
Of places never seen
With whisper rolling tears I’ll praise…
“My Suicide Machine”
Tall electric power grid
With hum and whir and sigh
One leap and scale with no detour
One thousand feet on high
Oh, the winter brings those gales
Grey blotting out the green
Close eyes, tip forward angel wings
Sweet Suicide Machine
Oak dowel for the clothesline
Five dollars ninety-four
And nylon length will show its strength
Weight hanging from the door
Wrap tight taut those thirteen
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Not a very good poem, I thought it was just good enough to put up.
How do you find your way when all is lost?
How do you find your way when all is lost?
© 2012 - 2024 Dragon-Demygod
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