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I normally don't share my pieces online, but it would be very helpful to have a different perspective on my pieces. It should help me to improve since I am an amateur at this poetry game. I'll post this piece since it is still in the works. I plan to make a series out of it. I'm hoping to do five parts or more. --- SUMMARY It is a story about a singing ghost, a young girl that got murdered, haunting this fellow who have been struggling to sleep at night. It will escalate into something sinister. --- SOMEWHERE BEYOND Part I The curtains quietly billow around. My mind awakens me when I’m near. Must be insomnia or is there a sound? There is an indistinct voice, I hear. Somewhere beyond the window… How I wish I had known Left wanted like fool’s gold Buried without a stone A story left untold Words have been heartbrokenly sung, But I am certain there’s nothing, but air. As if it was a girl that died so young? There it is again, the tone of despair. Somewhere beyond the window… Too many of a night Afraid my soul's older Been long dead, but not quite Afraid my soul's colder Quite concerned, I fear I’m daunted Slowly, my heart starts to fill with guilt Flabbergasted, why am I being haunted? Higher as the emotions are being spilt Somewhere beyond the window… How I wish I had known Left wanted like fool’s gold Buried without a stone A story left untold Please leave me, I have already forgave But the voice seems so quaintly Can such words come from the grave? The pitch is rising, but so faintly Somewhere beyond the window… Too many of a night Afraid my soul's older Been long dead, but not quite Afraid my soul's colder The warmth of dawn filters through Reaching me as if I was able to redeem Shall I allow myself to call out to you? Only silence there as if it was a dream Somewhere beyond the window… Silent Nature fucked around with this message at 04:19 on Jan 29, 2013 |
# ¿ Jan 29, 2013 00:01 |
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# ¿ May 18, 2024 19:34 |
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I feel your pain. As like for anyone else, when I'm retardedly depressed or force myself into one, I can spew some creative lines... That's a lot of enjambments in there. I've never really did much of that, but I should look into that. I really enjoyed the creativity of this part...awesome metaphors! "The words were shaken out of me. Would that those eyes were coal - then I could start a fire. My leg still hurts at night and I shake. There are pills for the shaking but not for the leg. Bless the poor, crooked boy with screwtop lovers; friends by the milligram. It's bullshit - chasing slogans and kissing embers. My ashes must be spread in a forest; until then, keep a fire burning." --- Another piece that I managed to spew my heart out on... "Excuse Me" Too softly, I cannot hear. Lips, it seems to move. Nothing comes out. Eyes, it signals me. All that it took. It’s just me. Although, This is a dream. It’s just me. Without a sound, Dreaming around. Above the ground, Away from reality. Mute button’s stuck, Your great disaster. Mute button’s stuck. Oh, oh, that’s how it is. Eerily quiet. Can you hear me? Ears, it does not work. Hollowly in and out. Hands, it vibrates me. Absorbing it in all. It’s just me. Although, This is a dream. It’s just me. Without a sound, Dreaming around. Above the ground, Away from reality. Mute button’s stuck, Your great disaster. Mute button’s stuck. Oh, oh, that’s how it is. Yeah, quite deafly... Did you hear that? Yeah, quite deafly... Did you hear that? Without a sound, Dreaming around. Above the ground, Away from reality. Mute button’s stuck, Your great disaster. Mute button’s stuck. Oh, oh, that’s how it is. Silent Nature fucked around with this message at 01:51 on Jan 31, 2013 |
# ¿ Jan 30, 2013 23:29 |