The falling snow, the falling leaves,
It’s the time of the year again,
The time where she stares out, believing.
For believing is all she can do in her pain,
Believing by first snowfall he’d return,
And he never did.
—-
Something I wrote for a poetry competition, theme was Snow.
Cold and wet, the rain falls endlessly thick,
The clock in the dusty room callously ticks.
So far away from my warmth you are now,
Do you still remember my name and our broken vows?
It is not your fault, it was never your fault,
The endless rain falls heavy, washing away the burning salt.
I can taste it as it slides down, the crushing burden I bear,
Collapse, I wish I could. Forget everything but the despair.
The tiny shivering warmth in my right hand,
The bump, my husband’s last legacy, his last demand,
How could I forsake everything and forget all?
Crying by the fireplace, curled up in a ball.
Even if he can no longer remember my name,
Even if he can no longer speak our children’s names.
And though No longer does he exist physically, living on in my heart.
The love I have will live on even as his soul quietly departs.
—-
Yay yet another depressing poem and here I was thinking I was out of the woods with the depressing stuff. Bear with me ya?
Listen for the call, the howling of the wolves
The Fading dreamers of the yesteryears
the sharp colours of the world have moved
fading, seeping, drying like the many youths
Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop dreaming
The dreams of fame, of money, of love, of peace
Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop dreaming
The power of dreams, the youths have no inkling
Listen for the call, the call for the dreamers
The power of dreams basking in the full moon
Angels, devils searching for them
Fading silently as we forget the way to dream
Crawling, begging for the light of hope
Beggars, the youths, the dreamers of yesteryears have became
Victims of mainstreams finding themselves unable to cope
We slowly die, steadily from the world
—-
Another song, not much rhymes.
I reached for you in the dark
My hands reaching as far as they could
You were not there, nowhere to be seen
I realized too late about the stone in me
I’m lost, I’m cold, I’m dry, I’m empty
Seeping into the darkness in my hole
I’m lost, I’m empty without you
My world is fading
The warmness of your hands has gone
The love you gave has left
I have made you wait too long, too long for me.
I realized too slow that it was me who was cold
The edges of my world have dimmed
The colors have turned to black and white
How cold, how cruel I have become since you left
My trembling hands long for your warmth
I’m lost, I’m cold, I’m dry, I’m empty
Seeping into the darkness in my hole
I’m lost, I’m empty without you
My world is fading
I don’t care for the money,
I don’t care for the fame
I have made you wait too long, too long for you
Now I ache for your warmth, your overpowering love
I’m lost, I’m cold, I’m dry, I’m empty
Seeping into the darkness in my hole
I’m lost, I’m empty without you
My world is fading
—-
Its a song this time. It hit me so I wrote it down.
With a whisper, it fades into the night.
the dreams, wishes and hopes of the light,
they fade with the little twinkling tiny sighs,
the scent, a lingering trace of its skies.
What dreams does it pocket with it?
What do these dreaming wishers permit?
The secrets lost to the worshipers and Gods,
that triumph against all odds.
One day secrets revealed, the dreamers lost,
a paradise and all turned into deep frost.
—-
Not much thought into this. Perhaps its about adam and eve.
Close your eyes, reach for the sky,
Feel the air, it flies so very high
Can you touch its beautiful blue?
The people who can touch is so few.
Blinded by its beauty, I have been,
nothing else can compare to what I have seen.
I want to soar in the endless blue,
Forever in its embrace I pursue.
Without worries, without fears,
The land, a place I shed for many tears,
I have abandoned, to lose myself in
The pale white place I lost myself within.
Can you touch its beautiful blue?
The people who can touch is so few.
Blinded by its beauty, I have been,
nothing else can compare to what I have seen.
Soaring through, never letting go.
Nothing lasts, even the falling snow.
No one can touch its endless blue,
not I who so long have pursued.
Not the birds that fly through it,
nor the clouds that flirt through it.
Can you touch its beautiful blue?
The people who can touch is so few.
Blinded by its beauty, I have been,
nothing else can compare to what I have seen.
—-
This is written after a song called Purple Snow, it is from the Soundtrack of Granado Espada. If you’d like a copy of it to hear, you can get it here.
When u listen to the song while reading, start reading only when she starts singing and slowly. Only then you’ll get the full effect. ^^
The pattering of the musical rain,
the clattering of the rushing train.
The sighing of the wispy wind,
I hear them all in my confined mind.
There is no colours, there is no light
Though I stand out in sunshine so bright.
What colour the sky is, what blue is like,
I know of none for they both are alike.
A sea of black, where there is no sight,
born into a world of darkness, pale and white.
Society is unjust, oppressive and degrading,
they are just people blindly masquerading.
Great pretenders who at a glance seem kind,
I see their sins, their lies though I am blind.
Outside the sheets of the rain are falling
And there is the sound of one’s heart tearing
All this meaningless and relentless sadness,
Where does this endless road begin or even end?
Have I walked too far in to see the light?
Though I’ve walked with bleeding feet, wordlessly without a fight.
Inside of me, the desperation clings and claws,
There is no hope, no joy, in this empty narrow hall.
Outside the sheets of rain are falling,
There is just my loneliness and me screaming,
Throughout this empty narrow hall, never endingly echoing.
We were all born as set, to live and grow together,
The red string* on our little finger is light as feather.
Bound together without any much choice,
I walked the earth, calling out for you with my small voice.
Exactly how long I alone have searched for just you?
The days, months, years, flowers then snow all breeze through.
I have cried, laughed, whined, shouted, begged as time passed me,
Now I sit here, staring out of the window, watching the swaying tree.
Inside of me, the desperation clings and claws,
There is no hope, no joy, in this empty narrow hall.
There is only the overwhelming sound,
Of the rain, the sorrow beating me to the ground.
Bound together without any much choice,
I walked the earth, searching you, though can no longer hear my voice.
Cold, wet and dead, like the swaying trees outside,
The bright dream of the white roses and a bride.
Outside the sheets of the rain are falling,
And there is the only sound of my heart tearing.
*See Red String of fate if unsure what it means
Author’s Note
Listen to “So alone, be sorrow” from Star Ocean. It protrays what the poem tries to.
We crave for things that don’t exist,
freedom, powers all in our fist.
Grave, insanity the word may be,
wickedness, pure and guile, I laugh in glee.
Sanity is calm, rational and boring,
Insanity is senseless, fickle and absorbing.
Profanity, I rather it is think not,
respect it, like we have all forgot.
perhaps we all seek to free,
the little man, the inner me.
but when you start to see bleeding nails,
from hands and feet and skin like scales,
you know its time, like i have rhymed,
to find the place until the clock has chimed.
This poem was actually a reply to someone’s when he wrote a poem in response of mine. I actually liked this one quite a bit.. xD
His poem:
Insanity–such a grave word
In such a place there’s obscenity
Obstucted by wickedness, pure and guile….
But by a hair’s breathe,
Is it really fair to call it grave when madness let’s you escape?
Is it really fair to call it wickedness when it let’s you free?
From the world of insanity,
What is real in the profanity?
The path is twisted and dark,
My feet are bleeding, I’m panting hard.
A sanctuary I will not know,
Yet the taste of it lingers in whole.
I crawl searching for the end,
Now my life’s last breath is all spent.
The elusive end, the light,
The sane, the peace, all fading into the night.
All that is left just blank me,
The mirror and the echoing sounds of deranged glee.
