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Literature Text
Knocking on your door hoping you'll answer,
Hoping you remember to met me in our secret place,
Waiting up for you all night in my tent,
Listening to the tick tock of the clock waiting for that moment,
When you let me down again and break my heart.
But we continue to stumble and fall deeper in love,
We fixate on all the things that make us happy,
Saying all the typical sweet nothings ever come up with on earth,
In hopes to cover up the truth,
Our hearts love is brought down by the things that boil our blood.
Never knowing that rage is a mere hood,
That blinds us from the truth,
You linger in my mind in my thoughts while I hope you never leave me.
A world so memorable but we live this life together so forgettable,
But there are just to many to count all the lives we've had,
but we wish our love to be memorable.
So instead we dream of lies that we want to be our future.
Hoping you remember to met me in our secret place,
Waiting up for you all night in my tent,
Listening to the tick tock of the clock waiting for that moment,
When you let me down again and break my heart.
But we continue to stumble and fall deeper in love,
We fixate on all the things that make us happy,
Saying all the typical sweet nothings ever come up with on earth,
In hopes to cover up the truth,
Our hearts love is brought down by the things that boil our blood.
Never knowing that rage is a mere hood,
That blinds us from the truth,
You linger in my mind in my thoughts while I hope you never leave me.
A world so memorable but we live this life together so forgettable,
But there are just to many to count all the lives we've had,
but we wish our love to be memorable.
So instead we dream of lies that we want to be our future.
Literature
The Musicality of Words
Words, I find, must have a rhythm
They ought to be placed with care
Though free verse means there is no need
For rhyme or metric feet
Still words must communicate
Through their musicality.
Words, when they are free
May lose musicalit-ness
They stagg-
er and
cut and
trip
Fall unto themselves
With barely a whiff
Of aforementioned pulse.
However, this is not what I would like to do
I find it does not amuse and entertain the reader - you.
Words ought to have a meaning
When written in free verse
They may be formed
Dif-fer-rent-ly
Than we are used to seeing
But that strange form should still
Communicate a sense
Of what the a
Literature
My Love Is...
My Love Is...
My love is the gentle wind.
Uplifted with the breeze and held by the current.
My love is the deep water.
Shifted with the waves and rising on the tide.
My love is the roaring flame.
Consumed with passion and igniting by a spark.
My love is the ageless stone.
Polished with time and soothing to the touch.
My love is all this and more.
Literature
NighTale
NighTale
Written on Sunday, January 4th 2015
As Night lovingly embraced Sky, her lover
And brought him down to her bosoms
Man sheltered themselves and fell still;
Not even their breathing was heard
While Stars danced above, lustful
Seducing before the lone, aroused Moon
Without Sun acknowledging their betrayal
Without Horizon witnessing their caresses
Then what story did mankind hold?
Too afraid to step into Darkness' domain
Too frail to bear the cold Frostbite;
Just hiding under the shade of blankets, shivering
That no soul under the Heaven said a word
That no tavern sang songs of the old
For there be only Silence, her and only ex
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Comments5
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Very well done!