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The PoetFor the work of a Poet to be truly appreciated
he must write it with his own blood and tears for ink
his soul the sharpened quill to nail the words
like so many specimen of unwilling insects upon the paper.
And once he has bled out
becoming the cause of his own demise
the reader is left behind to digest his soul
so plainly trapped within a cage of words
his requiem written as a love song to his Muse.
sweet nothings.how can i ignite my soul
if my insides are too cold
to hold up on their own?
i'm hooked up to machines
and they whisper to me
sweet little nothings.
they tell me, 'love today
like you'll love tomorrow
if tomorrow you die.'
i don't like it when they
whisper, but it's better
than when they blare.
then the doctors come
and that's usually when
i close my eyes tight.
once someone told me
that i should be happy
to be alive and to smile.
i told them that i haven't
left this bed in 5 months
and i can't smile anymore.
but they didn't know i
lied because i smile when
he comes to visit.
he whispers his own
sweet nothings and i
don't feel so frail.
he tells me that one
day we'll run through
forests made of sunshine.
we'll climb the highest
mountains and only come
down when they beg.
we'll go swimming
and play with the
waves and dolphins.
every time he leaves
i never have the heart
to tell him my countdown.
starting yesterday i
have 2 days left
and all i can think
about is doing all
All Falling in the EndYou start with yourself.
Before anything grand can happen, you have to make a decision. A vow of dedication to your cause. Your ideals. Your path to reforming the world. The one that won’t forget you to the last seconds of your life and far beyond in neither heaven nor hell. Now that you have picked your door in the corridor of choices, you walk in, and the door locks itself behind you. The exhilarating click of devout commitment.
You start with a person.
It’s surprisingly hard to wield a knife properly, but your palms aren’t sweating. Cool and clenched and excited. Confident, too, that you can achieve what you set out to gain. You finish, and the curtains are raised on the show you’re about to steal. The things you do are nothing short of theatrical and grand, just like a musical with marionettes as actors. You are the planet’s new puppeteer.
You work with the world.
They’re afraid. They’re amazed. They’re in love. Their cries of pain an
Nervous MovementYou're a dime a dozen in a sea of billions.
Individuality has no significance in numbers so vast.
And while this fact makes looking forward hard
we can't keep living in the past.
You're a nervous movement in a freeze frame scene.
Steady hands won't help hold up such a fragile act.
And while you take your time keeping character
you fake what you can't take back.
With nothing more than a thought we form our actions
and this is where we extinguish the lie they tried to invent.
The lie that we painted our lives without passion
well conclusions are useless with no attempt to commence.
You're a song I can't name stuck in my head.
I've listened to you before and probably will again.
And while I can hum the melody all day long waiting
for it to hit me I still won't know where you've been.
You're a gust that has never changed direction.
Nothing can touch you you're only felt as you brush skin.
And while you can't be stopped nothing lasts
nothing escapes time not even the wind.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More