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Literature Text
Isolated cloud on the peak,
Is it you that I seek?
Do you know have some sort of streak?
Oh, who is still meek?
A sharpened sword,
A twisted dagger,
Ready to strike at your word.
Who shall be struck will stagger.
Oh death, where is thy scythe?
Where are the souls you collected at the end of life?
Oh how mortals run for their lives for you.
But alas,in the end,we all say "adieu."
Is it you that I seek?
Do you know have some sort of streak?
Oh, who is still meek?
A sharpened sword,
A twisted dagger,
Ready to strike at your word.
Who shall be struck will stagger.
Oh death, where is thy scythe?
Where are the souls you collected at the end of life?
Oh how mortals run for their lives for you.
But alas,in the end,we all say "adieu."
Literature
A love letter of sorts...
To J’aime and Faith,
You are my definition of love. It is difficult to pin down all the pieces of music that remind me most of you. Nostalgia is like a tangled headphone cord snagged on everything else in my pocket, (and you well know, I keep some strange things in my pockets.) I try to sort out one memory and hit on a whole new-old jumbling of poetry, impropriety, and realizations.
The two of you are seaglass, shells, important ribbons, and half-mangled notecards scrawled with significant quotes. You are the cathartic smashing of a hundred cucumbers with a wooden sword. You are tastes of the forbidden, glimpses of freedom. You are th
Literature
Valentines: A Haiku
I just don't get it.
Spending on cards and candy...
Is that really love?
Literature
Hidden Sessions
I'd say theres always been a gulf between you and I;
a whisper in the hair, the girlish smiles I'd give you,
only fuel the fire.
So come on!
Make it worth both our whiles.
I'd show you my worlds,
take a candle to your skies;
I pull the whole thing through the needle's eyes.
I cant pretend it it's all in progression.
Kneading, needing you is my ending jest.
So come all now, the show starts to rise, and I pull you inside from your tiny mind.
I'll grasp your heart, ambition so complacent.
A wiry, weary, why of the true lessons.
Hold my highs, grab my lows,
inner wishes pulls through never thighs,
and I'll transform the biggest resi
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This is my first official art. Please tell me how it is and dont hate on this because I'll be accepting tips and on poetry writing.
© 2016 - 2024 Archangelo2
Comments6
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The first two lines really captured my attention, then I was confused by the next two. Verses two and three seem perfectly fine, but to me, they are also detached from the first one - I don't see a clear 'bridge' that would hold them together. Overall, good work, though.