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Rising Like SmokeRising Like Smoke
Darkness rose from seemingly nowhere like smoke
From the junction of the backstreet and Darkwood Road in municipal Arkham, Massachusetts, where most residents believed to be uninhibited, the darkness suddenly and mysteriously rose like a heavy blanket of smoke from an enormous bonfire. In fact, there was neither fire nor smoke; but someone or something was summoning the darkness. To be exact, the residents were too scared to investigate the junction, fearing very dark evil. There was a rumor that someone was reading from the black book.
"I swear to ya, someone has got that black book "Necronomicon"."
"You may be right. Darkness don't rise like smoke from anywhere."
They were both right, actually. Someone hid in the backstreet and recited something from Necronomicon to create that darkness. That happened at 5 pm, hours before real darkness fell. Eventually, when real darkness came, it mingled with the spell. Everyone in that side of the town locked door and
Battle of KettlesBattle of Kettles
Pot calls kettle black
They stood in the center of the field
Fist clenched for a fight
Each one called the other black
But really nobody is white
Each side has its followers
And those who support are misled
You should not think about the man
Think about what he said
My Eyes Have ItMy Eyes Have It
Dictated by Puabi
At last a moment
Deep in love
When the tongue will find no words
When the words locked within the heart
Need no longer be heard
When the eyes
When my tears
Say what needs must be said
A drop of joy
A drop of gratitude
For keeping me near him
After all those years
Hope springs eternal in my breast
And sorrow like a corpse
Lady of the Night
Lady of the Night
Lady of the night,
Beneath the pale light
Of the street lamp,
I saw your face.
When the lamp turned bright,
And your face looked white,
I thought you were an angel
That fell from grace;
But you are nothing but a vamp,
Your teeth are sharp as knives
You could be one of the wives
Of Count Dracula
Waiting in this place.
But I won't run
Though you may have your fun
And the night air is cold and damp,
For I feel that we must meet
On this lonely street
For the remainder of my life.
ET Go HomeET Go Home
For days and days, the sky was dark
Lightning flashed here and there
There was more than electricity in the air
But though it was a signal "Hark"
Most folks seemed not to care
A war of worlds was still remote
For Herbert Wells once wrote
That the aliens landed in Britain
Still, there was tension in the air
But now the tension has ended, friends
And we are alone
ET go home
Stone HeartStone Heart
From Heart of Stone by Akela-Nakamura
A heart lost blood long ago
From flesh it turned to stone
It could not know the love we feel
So it lay in a dead chest alone
A heart of stone cannot feel
The love that lies all around
It cannot express that same love
If one day that love is found
Deeper than flesh
Deeper than tissue
Deeper than bone
Deep in the core of the heart
Lies a love that survived
Beyond the death of her flesh
Like a gale trapped below the earth
Released as a torrent
And finally peace
In a long embrace
The Raven part 3The Raven
Now in my chamber wan and weary
With head heavy and vision blurry
I lie with my love upon my bed
Trying hard not to fear and worry
About a life I know no more
Suddenly there came a flurry
As though some winged creature flew in a fury
And a stately raven landed on my chamber door
"Ah stately raven thou hast come to warn me
To forget or otherwise to ignore
The life I know no more."
The raven sat for a moment thinking
Its dark eyes neither closed nor winking
From my chamber door
Then with a voice I should have recognized
As a relative I once knew but has demised
The raven said
"Michael you have a heart for the sick and the poor
And you have a woman beside you who you adore
That should be enough to save you
So you must try to ignore
And forget the life you knew before.
For truly you know
That that life is with you
A message to the brokenYou drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stop
spewing pretty metaphors at me,
for with each elaborate comparison,
I feel a bit more
detached from this world
And maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,
but would you be
if you felt like the entire universe
was resting upon your shoulders,
and someone was just there saying:
But you’re stronger than the powerful beats
of a butterfly’s wings
And maybe I do need more confidence,
but would you exuberate it
when the part you hated most about yourself
were the freckles that have speckled your face for years,
and someone was just there muttering:
They’re not flaws,
but rather stars that form constellations
Yes, I can’t help but hate
all those unrealistic metaphors
you choose to pelt at me when I’m low,
yet the irony is,
I know that those beautiful words
are realistic in your eyes,
So I can’t hate you.
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
dark circlesi haven't slept well in 14 days
my eyes droop pretty colors
'50 shades of purple and grey,
they're bags and they're designer'
making jokes is how i cope
with chapped lips and constant chap-stick
it tastes like honey and mint
i laugh and say i'm addicted.
hooded lids and sleepy smiles
during lunch at subway
my friends ask if I'm okay
I say that I'm just tired.
but really when I see him with her
my heart sinks to the tiles
she's pretty and witty and sure as hell she can sing
and i'm just a loud bone-collector.
when I see her with him,
dancing and laughing and grinning,
the ring on her finger
laughs at my singularity.
for as much as i lie and as much as i try
my loneliness still creeps in,
because no matter how much they protest,
i'm still the lowly fifth-wheel.
walking behind them on sidewalks
that are wide, but built for four
smiles and laughs when they look back
but the frown creeps evermore.
pelvis peaks through paper-thin skin
and knuckles white and pale
my ribs are empty, my bo
Clear WristA clear wrist, barren of scars,
as opposed to skin sauntered in marks,
tells a trickier story than it's soiled and raw,
uncaring, unkempt counter part.
Bravery, I think it holds,
the strength to bare unimaginable loads
of pain and suffering through endless times,
and withstanding the agony of sleepless nights.
Some think it is fear, the reluctance to cut,
but I believe it opposite, it show courage and guts.
To bear your pain without a nick on your wrist,
is like a solider braving his terrain while being torn limb from limb.
Agonizing as it is, to hide your pain,
you do it so well, and no attention you'll gain.
At the end of the day, it's not cry for attention,
rather a cry for the victory that's silently mentioned.
Your scars are those not self inflicted,
and despite the gnawing intention,
to harm yourself and ease your pain,
the scars you earn are rightfully gained.
In a room of those who have jumped the gun,
and left traces of blood deep in their arms,
do not be tempted to do the sam
No Coffee is Sweet Without YouNo Coffee is Sweet Without You
"In the Name of Love"
Hazelnut in my cappuccino
Caramel in mocha too
But I can only think
That if the coffee is sweet
It is because I have you
I have tasted many cups before
Can I say that I enjoyed them all?
I finished each one
Because I felt it was what I should do
But if I said they were sweet
It may be untrue
If my coffee is sweet
It is because I have you
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