I'm a Ghost in the snow.
Never finding warmth
I have no life,
I have no soul.
I'm damaged, and broken.
Nothing can fix me.
But I need you to try.
Help this Ghost.
Melt the snow.
-Dead Inside-There's nothing left of her,
She and the unborn son taken.
I held her hand
As she went unto the Fade.
I held her hand
As her body cooled.
I saw red,
Leaving me but a Shade.
I saw red,
As her blood pooled.
Vengeance is mine.
He has been sent to Hell.
I will be fine.
Before you ask, All will not be well.
Forever and Always, I am Dead.
-Wings of Blood, Wings of Steel-I stand proud and strong.
Loyal to my beliefs,
I strike at my enemies with
Unrelenting wrath and fury.
I am the vengeful hammer,
Defending my lord's land.
From without and from within.
None are spared my flashing blade
My steel gaze pierces even the most
Sturdy of souls.
Fear me, for I slay on wings of blood.
Love me, for I fly on wings of steel.
-Sanguine Haze-Walking among the sanguine graves
Statues of Angels cry blood
Can't see beyond this Crimson Haze
Cathedral ruin, Stone rubble, Broken stained glass
Rusted black gate, can it... will it open?
Oaken doors, large, engraved with demons and angels, Off it's hinges
Stone benches, Stone altar, black cloth
A stairway? Going down, getting colder
Dark air, Suffocating chill, no walls
No ceiling. Void. A landing, another iron gate
Dead end? No... Eyes, of Garnet, of Amethyst
Staring at me, watching me. Blades of bone.
A roar. Then nothingness.
-Blood Red Snow-My scars, crimson red and deep.
My eyes, cerulean blue and clear.
Despite my beauty I can not match
The beauty of blood red snow
My love for life is like that snow
A chilling fire, a burning cold.
I see a lake amongst the white trees
A lake that's waters are as red as my scars
Help me escape this beautiful, horrifying place.
Give warmth to the fires in my heart,
Before I become the Blood Red Snow.
-Angel Wings-No one knows who I am.
Not even I know who I wish to be.
Past lives, Dreams? Memories?
I smell trees, rain, the earth, blood, death..
The scent excites me, pulse racing.
I long for blood against my tongue.
I yearn for the scent of fear.
Pure, light, Your angel wings
Let me burn them to dust.
let me breathe deep your pain.
I taste your lust from here.
No rhythm, no rhyme
-Waters-Grey waters, to match a Grey sky
Grey sky, to match a Grey day
Grey day to match a Grey mood
Mourning a time spent in mine paradise
The day, mood, sky, and waters seem to mourn with me
As if, I started to cry, so too would the clouds open
to release the rain, and flood the earth
Sorrow; choking, drowning, suffocating, and mine.
As I stare into the waters.
Grey waters, to match a Grey mood.
-Spark Of Light-The daemons within my chest laugh
As they tear my soul, shred my heart
The daemons laugh as I am taken away from you
my love, my life, my happiness
I miss you, though we had just parted
All my life I've been blinded by shadows
until I got to hold you in my arms
A spark of Light...
You are my Sun, disperser of the night
I've waited my entire life to bask in your rays
All the world is waiting for the Sun
To lie here under you is all that I can do
The daemons wail as I think of you
Wail as they are denied my sorrow
You, my family, have always been
My spark of light, in the darkness
-But A Man-I am but a man.
Not a beast, nor a dragon
Man, with flaws, fears
not claws, nor fangs
A pretender, with a facade
An ego which doesn't exist
Confidence, that's not shared.
I love, as any man.
I cry, as any man
Yet I am no one.
Nameless face in a sea of faces
Faceless name in a land of names
I am but a man.
Who doesn't exist.
-Untitled-Lost in a world of doubt and deception,
Shadows block the light, until you came.
You shine light that cuts through the darkness
like a knife through flesh.
Blood seeps from the shadows
Blood tainted by darkness.
My own liquid of life...
Heal my wounds, Take away my pain.
I shall do the same for you.
My rozeta frumos.
My inger frumos.
Te iubesc, Truly with all my heart.
Confessions of a BorderlineHer gaze is the most peculiar thing,
she can't hold still for anyone.
One minute, it's rosewater delicate
and the next - the fire of a Gatling gun.
She's exactly what occurs when sugar and salt
are mixed in a chemical reaction.
Have you seen the way she walks the die?
Oh, but it's such an attraction!
You may feast your eyes, but you'd better not touch,
in fact, you should never go near her.
But hide away and lock your doors
and teach the kids to fear her!
When she gets upset over the littlest thing,
she gets all suicidal
(though you really should see her when she gets mad
she's full-blown homicidal).
When it comes to sanity (or lack thereof),
she's Harley's fiercest rival.
Can't calm her nerves to live her dream
then she stuffs up every recital.
She very hardly discerns her feelings,
she may hate you but she'll need you to live.
But she's barely a person, so it's perfectly fine
to use her till you've all she can give!
And you can't fall in love with a girl like her
(unless, of course,
DevourOh I'm well aware of my own limitations,
Unlike you, I do not quite have the talent.
I cannot warp the minds of the young and malleable,
I cannot make them believe I am greater than I am.
I am simply, not like you...
But if I were to eat you, I wonder.
Would I too experience such glory?
If I were to devour your flesh,
And drink your soul as if it were a fine wine.
Would I too become great?
Let us find out you and I;
And I'll thank you in advance, for the lovely meal!
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
Losing ItI'm kind of going crazy,
I'm caught inside my mad mind.
Ten different things weigh me down, but I'm still fine!
The words are coming slowly, my mind is on a slur.
I can't string this poem, because the brain is on a blur!
And I get so frustrated, I tear away at skin;
The hair is falling down and the voices make a din!
I wanna shut them out, but I can't find a key,
So all that I can do is simply shut away the ME.
Back BiteIf you think that you can beat me with your fakery,
I won't let you break or put me down; I'm a landmine!
And if you think that you can ever silence this deal,
Then sew your lips shut, while I show you what's real!
You live inside your fairytale world,
And you're ever right.
Think that you can cloud us with this fantasy?
I will show you venom and I will show you poison,
I will spit you verse that is as raw as its poignant
So why don't you sit back, arms flat, relax;
Let a new man take control of the apex!
And if you think that you can touch with flower-kissed verses,
I will take your dreams and I'll turn them into curses;
Don't think that you can fake a writer who's real,
Or I might have to show you how the real dark feels!
The DonorThe Doner 7/27/15
I've had a good life.
I have no regrets.
It''s time for me to die.
What will be my legacy?
These are things I wonder.
How will I be remembered?
Who will mourn me?
Have I done enough?
Did I appreciate the air I breathe?
So I made a decision.
A choice of the heart.
When I die I will donate
parts of me.
Parts I hold dear.
If in the future I can be helpful
to someone who is without - that will
be my purpose.
My corneas, which helped me view beauty
and ugliness in this world.
I will give to someone who can't see.
Maybe they have been blind all their
life or maybe it's new and it kills them.
If I can give them a glimpse of what
I saw then I will die with a grin on my face.
My lungs ( although I had asthma and suffered
occasionally when I was young ) could
breathe new life into a child or
a person with emphysema.
Maybe they will be thankful for a second chance.
And finally my heart. Which now beats faster
knowing my fate. I don't wish to die.
But the cancer is coursing throu
Reasons We Love Homestuck“Reasons we love H O M E S T U C K.”
Why do this love this web comic, you ask?
Maybe it’s just the way the fandom rolls,
or how mean Andrew Hussie trolls.
It could possibly be Eridan’s accent (WWyeh?)
or even Feferi’s keyboard trident. (---E)
Some people say it’s Equius’ broken bows and arrows, ( D →)
but what about Nepeta’s meows and roleplays? (:33 <)
We really do love Sollux’s lisp,
and also when Karkat’s pissed. (FUCKASS!)
Including Kanaya's fabulous lipstick,
it's also Rose's amazing magic.
How about when Dave starts rapping
and Jade Harley begins napping?
We love Vriska’s eight-pupiled eye,
and how John is such an adorable guy.
Or maybe it’s with all the sprites
or how prospit glows bright.
Can’t forget about Derse’s darkness
or Gamzee and all his soberness. (WHOOPS.)
There’s also this thing with Tav and stairs
which he t
NostalgiaThe first time my fingers
Sailed across your shorelines
was magical. It felt like I was running
through the past and pulling memories
from way back. But even nostalgia
eventually becomes useless and mundane.
A chore to hide the bitterness
With sour kisses and cheap perfume.
We lived our lives in New York minutes;
Being wasted was never time wasted,
We survived for a while
on fake laughs and ganja cookies.
But like everything; like with everyone else,
Within an instant,
I made you breakfast,
and was gone.
san gabrielSometimes you dream about a burning grocery store and it means nothing.
This is me standing in a hallway realizing that the people who left
aren't showing up for dinner, that's why it's only a theory.
Look at these streetlights, look at you wearing that wreckage on your face,
soaked in radio. To white windmills flickering across the coast, to
your dogs barking like shootouts behind these gates. An old forest flashes
against the bridge and starts breathing; headlights bleach our hills and you say
What kind of ending is this, I'm never here anymore.
And Hell yeah, I think, how insane that the species blooms in catastrophe,
how improbable to survive this lottery, to conquer the probability
of having never blinked toward the blinding white shipwreck,
to find an abandoned planet and fill it with chairs. Back in the day
I'd probably moan for the other side, but now I'd argue that our people's poetry
is best understood as a consequence; not a shotgun but the stained carpet
being dragged from