dead blue.
March 24, 2009, 2:17 am
Filed under:
Poems Never been realized what I have
Till that night… an excruciating splash burst
Even nightmare isn’t a sober
Got my hand swing and reaching nothing
My heart is a bloodcurdling pounding a thousand echoed rhymes
I couldn’t blocked your vivid figure through my wretched mind
You were soft, dark and you were a lie
Cause you would never wave your hand to me and said goodbye
Wouldn’t imagine a self of mine without a self of yours
My billowy hatred is too much for a single life and your billowy love is too tempting to be ignored
Don’t let this line broken… begging you
Wouldn’t imagine myself grouting in the corner
Trying to needlessly re-link the line, my hopeless blood vessel
I would whimper in my crawl if you wish
Than not to have you, I shall perish
I would stab my essence to the bottom like you want
Than not to hold you, there’s nothing I would hold to stand
My color is all about blue
My dream is all about coming true
My life is all about changing through
Myself is all about you
~G~
PS: Those lines still can’t represent how I’m feeling right now to you… my true.
The unaccepted.
She can’t feel the wind blow
She can’t tell to where they go
Paralyzed, the unwanted ghost crying in the corner
The night starts singing, they won’t end the night
They won’t end the torture, the ghost still has to face the massacre
She can feel all eyes staring at her
They’re drooling, their fangs sharpened
They speak as they detain
They laugh as they bite
They scream as they kill
And they kill as hell
She doesn’t want to feel anything anymore
Like a one-winged angel, she losses her power
No arm
No shoulder
No one
She’s the unwanted, she is the princess become the scum
Excruciating, like a werewolf seeing a full moon
Delivers painful messages through injuring
Something she would live forever with
Something she would bear as weakness
Something she would become
The unaccepted
She would do wrong for the rest of his [unreal] life
Screaming will be muted
Protest will be a pantomime
Body will be wasted
Hand will be petrified
Tears will be useless
Death will be heaven
The unwanted remains still
Night seems unfriendly
Where dark cannot offer comfort anymore
The owl hides its head, it tells it cannot save her anymore
To the fanged fear, to the bitten reality
To the fake saint who kills your soul discreetly in faux blissfulness
She wishes to be unseen
The ghost wishes to be a ghost.
- G -
