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Literature Text
I could write away the answers,
Spurning from whim dancers,
Transcending, pending on my head.
In my bed, I'd be drifting
While my soul is busy lifting,
If only I could live as dead.
I'd decode every enigma
For any induced by stigma,
In question or in thought.
With my death I'd be telling
What all and why there's all the knelling,
If only I could live as dead.
Oh I could tell you if
The Heaven above really exists.
I could answer things I never have before.
Then I would be asked, and answer more!
I would not be just a thinker,
My head all full of tinker,
My carcass filled of soot.
I would halt all contention,
Life would be a fixed dimension,
If only I could live as dead!
Spurning from whim dancers,
Transcending, pending on my head.
In my bed, I'd be drifting
While my soul is busy lifting,
If only I could live as dead.
I'd decode every enigma
For any induced by stigma,
In question or in thought.
With my death I'd be telling
What all and why there's all the knelling,
If only I could live as dead.
Oh I could tell you if
The Heaven above really exists.
I could answer things I never have before.
Then I would be asked, and answer more!
I would not be just a thinker,
My head all full of tinker,
My carcass filled of soot.
I would halt all contention,
Life would be a fixed dimension,
If only I could live as dead!
Literature
Moon of my Heart
When I reflect on her, I think of the Moon.
So alive and filled with magic,
never too bright, or too dim,
she hangs in my night's sky like a beacon,
showing me the truth of myself,
To gaze upon her is to dream endlessly of her touch,
yet remain a million stars apart.
She is neither here, nor there,
flitting effortlessly across my heart,
like a wayward ship upon a glass ocean.
And I will love her
till the End
Literature
glass heart
till friday
i’m me
till friday
i’m free
and then on friday
i’ll return to this prison
that i used to call home —
dance behind the chains sneaking around my heart
squeezing, till i bleed happy tears
when i see your hazel eyes again
it’s nothing but stars under a dimly lit room
brighter than the aquamarine and diamonds that hang above my chest
that i clutch and finger;
a weak grip on a reality slipping
dangerously into fantasy; here
you touch here i crave
and our fingers and lips are dancing with our feet
till midnight, it’s blue and black that hide the flowers
blossoming into fulfilment when we’re c
Literature
Persistence
Persistence
At the end, only the words persist
The feelings,
like flowers in the Winter,
crumble
Just the words remain:
Loneliness,
Emptiness,
Silence
They speak of feelings that no longer fit them
They speak of dreams and desires without echo
Just the words remain:
written in the endless cold of the night
mistaking delirious with hope
My poetry remains singing the meetings
but it's only about the searching
but it's only about the mismatch
My poetic universe is made of black holes
It is starless nights
It is deserted planets
Just the words remain:
"I love you",
"Kiss Me",
"I need you"
These, however, I do not recognize,
They are legend
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COPYRIGHT © VicariouSoul. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This Lyrical Poem tells a story of what I would do if I could live as dead. It is exactly what I would do,
nothing more. While reading this there is no specific accent to sing it. It is rather simple.
Let it slip off your tongue.
Some of you may be able to guess what song rhythm I am using.
I hope you all enjoy this poem as much I enjoyed writing it!
© 2012 - 2024 VicariouSoul
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