laark
New Member
Fear
Everything around me
Fading
A numb shell of
A human being
Collecting
Dust and
The building
Emptiness
Echoing throughout
My mind
Human Touch
Is only a
Dissipating memory
No place that
Holds the
Longing for my
Fleeting presence
Never feeling the
Wonderful ache
Of my cheeks
After
Reflecting the sun
And
Blinding the others
Around me
Tears shed and
Cries unheard
Will not cease
But
Will die out
Because my vocal chords
Will have
Withered
Into nothing
But
A
Memory
Of
Lament
Cascade
In this world of people, there are some of which who let their entire beings surge. Some of which whose attributes and morality flow in harmony. These are the ones who are not afraid of exhibiting themselves. These are the ones who aren't afraid to cascade into a place other than their own. They cascade with absolute certainty until their entire being is unveiled, so that they can reveal their entire individuality, their untamed and untainted selves to the aliens of this world. One only needs to let their insecurities and self-depreciation go. One only needs to refrain from hiding behind a mask of simple normality, and reveal something more. To reach for the stars and to grasp onto one with no obligations other than to just keep on holding. To strengthen one's determination and to kindle their flame until there's nothing anyone can see but it's magnificence. One only needs to cascade.
A Weeper’s Song
The melancholy of a bird’s song holds a story, It’s meaningful existence untold
Over the summer breeze it caresses the leaves, it’s reality unnoticed yet bold
It’s voice holds the cries, of those of us unheard
Our shards, our pieces, the regrets of unspoken words
For this birds knows, that if he sings
The remembrance lives on, our beings he brings
For on his travels, his months of flight
He had heard our calls into the dark of night
He had remembered what he’d encountered, for he was an intelligent bird
For when he returned, he’d brought a reminder of what he had heard
He tells the world’s stories the only way he knows solely,
That’s why through the summer breeze you hear his weeping song
Of melancholy
Carry On
And on that day, he, who was one without malice nor the spirit of one who is an arbitrator, flickered gently into the night like a fire who’s origin could not be vanquished.
Nostalgia
The feeling of nostalgia when the breeze ruffles my hair. I never know what I’m feeling nostalgia for, but that brief feeling of longing, like there’s a place out there that I belong. I’m just not there yet.
Darkness
I like the dark sometimes, and I hate it at other times. Sometimes I feel like it’s there to drown out the bright colors, to put me at peace, and sometimes it feels like it’s full of things lurking, just waiting to steal me away.
A dreamer’s Wish
So really, if I weren’t a dreamer, maybe I’d be able to be content with what is, and not with what could be.
Everything around me
Fading
A numb shell of
A human being
Collecting
Dust and
The building
Emptiness
Echoing throughout
My mind
Human Touch
Is only a
Dissipating memory
No place that
Holds the
Longing for my
Fleeting presence
Never feeling the
Wonderful ache
Of my cheeks
After
Reflecting the sun
And
Blinding the others
Around me
Tears shed and
Cries unheard
Will not cease
But
Will die out
Because my vocal chords
Will have
Withered
Into nothing
But
A
Memory
Of
Lament
Cascade
In this world of people, there are some of which who let their entire beings surge. Some of which whose attributes and morality flow in harmony. These are the ones who are not afraid of exhibiting themselves. These are the ones who aren't afraid to cascade into a place other than their own. They cascade with absolute certainty until their entire being is unveiled, so that they can reveal their entire individuality, their untamed and untainted selves to the aliens of this world. One only needs to let their insecurities and self-depreciation go. One only needs to refrain from hiding behind a mask of simple normality, and reveal something more. To reach for the stars and to grasp onto one with no obligations other than to just keep on holding. To strengthen one's determination and to kindle their flame until there's nothing anyone can see but it's magnificence. One only needs to cascade.
A Weeper’s Song
The melancholy of a bird’s song holds a story, It’s meaningful existence untold
Over the summer breeze it caresses the leaves, it’s reality unnoticed yet bold
It’s voice holds the cries, of those of us unheard
Our shards, our pieces, the regrets of unspoken words
For this birds knows, that if he sings
The remembrance lives on, our beings he brings
For on his travels, his months of flight
He had heard our calls into the dark of night
He had remembered what he’d encountered, for he was an intelligent bird
For when he returned, he’d brought a reminder of what he had heard
He tells the world’s stories the only way he knows solely,
That’s why through the summer breeze you hear his weeping song
Of melancholy
Carry On
And on that day, he, who was one without malice nor the spirit of one who is an arbitrator, flickered gently into the night like a fire who’s origin could not be vanquished.
Nostalgia
The feeling of nostalgia when the breeze ruffles my hair. I never know what I’m feeling nostalgia for, but that brief feeling of longing, like there’s a place out there that I belong. I’m just not there yet.
Darkness
I like the dark sometimes, and I hate it at other times. Sometimes I feel like it’s there to drown out the bright colors, to put me at peace, and sometimes it feels like it’s full of things lurking, just waiting to steal me away.
A dreamer’s Wish
So really, if I weren’t a dreamer, maybe I’d be able to be content with what is, and not with what could be.
