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: 08.03.2008
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Poetry.


: ~dreams~(19), {sentence}(6), [philosophy](20), *my book*(15)
(2)

To Dream

, 13 2008 . 01:22 +
To Dream

Today, I dream of dying silent,
Where words of plea will never reach;
Where death could steal my love and violence,
Where it could kiss and cherish me.

Today, I dream of no more living,
A road of no return for me;
No place to walk among the living-
Today- I will go silent here.

Tonight will be the last to see,
Tonight I gladly thank the stars;
Tonight I walk away forever-
To marry Terror and live free...
:  Poetry
~dreams~

:  
(0)

[ The Beginning ]

, 30 2008 . 08:53 +
The sky is falling...whatever shall we do? We are but sorcerers of the ocean blue...the lands and mountains up above, but never with the sky we seek. The day the Terror King arrived...we never knew what to expect. What are we, masterminds of life? We are but talents as we speak.

Up on the autumn hill she stands- a statue, if you please to look...Created at the hands and eyes..of Seth, the one who last awoke. The son of Death, who came as well- he saw her too, and said it was a lie; that never will a statue move, or breath...be brought to life or die.

But here on end, the broken lies await. So does the Terror King- the saint. Is he who mourns the death of all- the one to finish off our fall? Upon no notice, he believed, that talent lies in lifeless looks. He caught the star and cried and kneeled- when all was broken into truth...when all the memories came back- of love and empathy, and ruth. But those were stolen in a flash...as once the star had promised Seth...to bring them to the lifeless girl- the statue, where the saint had kneeled.
:  Poetry
[philosophy]
*my book*
{sentence}

:  
(1)

A lie I should have told

, 27 2008 . 23:17 +
A lie I should have told

Never will these faces see me,
As I close my eyes tonight,
As I leave them in deceiving,
Counting steps into the night...

Now, I look up in the morning,
Where imagination soars-
But my eyes can sense no movement
In the head where thoughts were born...

Every drawing stopped its dancing,
All the writings cannot speak.
Still- the shadows keep on asking,
Why I left them, what I seek...
:  Poetry

:  
(1)

[ philosophy ]

, 16 2008 . 00:14 +
When you see the moon in falling,
There will be a terror found;
There, the Terror King is coming,
Bringing all the horrors bound!~

I feel awkward recently. Not just because...of the awareness of the world I see around. Because of failure within people? The horrors of terror brought? Prophecies?...or perhaps, the fact that I haven't even finished watching Esoteric Agenda for a second time...now that is the true, most frightening movie in life, ever created. Whether it is true or false, that does not matter, really. Ah. Something heavy dropped behind me. I have a headache. But how terrified was I to know, for a second time, that very clearly, soon enough, the world will be restricted to humanity. How, might you ask, is that possible? Well, friends, it's obvious that terrorism is not terrorism in truth. Neither is fact over the media. But that does not matter. Imagine yourself, upon the date of December 31st, 2009...having become that much of a person that has just as enough rights...as a rock in nature. Yes, screw that, thank you very much. Hah-HAH. Being an intelligent person, I cannot help but to say...no thanks. I'd rather go off on my own, like 13% of the world's society that actually thinks on its own, instead of taking ideas from others, like 87% of the world. But unlike such, I will not protest in the name of justice. Or rather...I would say...fuck you, Dear Federal Reserve in alliance with The Illuminati and Freemasons. You people, in spite of all the money you "need", are really full of shit. Because money is all you care about. The things you destroy to create it...you are disgusting. Kill me if I know too much. Go ahead, let that be a task for you, but guess what, the world already knows what you're doing. So just do it, but you won't be noble nor fantastic anymore. What a laughing stock...I'm sorry, dear readers. I have a headache. I'm afraid I'll have to rest for now.
:  Poetry
[philosophy]
{sentence}
(7)

Engel

, 12 2008 . 04:20 +
Engel


I swear my song to you, my Engel;
For no apparent reason, I am meek.
My night and day are yours forever,
Until the sky will fall to sleep.
For this is my worn life, my Engel.
This is the secret I have kept...

My soul is locked inside this world,
My words are intricately sealed-
For I am damned without you, Engel,
And in your hands my heart is safe.

You never told me why you came so late,
When glory saved for you was lost,
When all my hopes of heart were broken,
When all my dreams were turned to hate!

You watched me weep at night, my Engel,
You did so and you took my tears...
You dared to steal my heart, oh Engel-
With that, you stole away my fears...
:  Poetry
~dreams~
(2)

[ I keep a secret within ]

, 10 2008 . 21:29 +
I keep a secret within

I am a human in your world.
My sleep and wake accords to time,
My heartbeat follows that of yours;
No difference- what is yours is mine.

But nonetheless, I am not weak.
I have a hunger for the night,
I own a soul that never sleeps;
I run...until the day I die.

I am a poet made of dreams;
My shadow is an artist's wing.
I am unspoken and unseen,
Miraculous- but not divine.

You cannot catch me in my world,
Where time accords to what I do,
Where written words begin to move;
Where trickery is common too...

There is no understanding there,
No need to chase what is unknown.
For there are holy things I bear...
So holy- they are not to own!
:  Poetry
~dreams~

:  
(2)

Together

, 17 2008 . 21:06 +
Together...

Together- what a word for two!
It is the bond of white and black.
Together- meaning me and you-
We sign in blood a timeless pact...

My friend or foe, what shall I say?
You are an ally to us all,
A monstrous soul concealed by frail
And shameless eyes behind a wall.

What are you, creature of desire,
A grant of wishes we all want,
A heartless master of white fire,
A thousand years of horror wrought!

Together- what a pain for two...
It is the difference over time.
Together- meaning me and you-
A deadly blend of black and white...
:  Poetry
*my book*
(4)

Music from the room

, 03 2008 . 05:30 +
Music from the room

From there, they hear a violin,
A silent noise up in that room.
From there they sense what lies within
The wonderful musician's room...
It makes their hearts beat soft and slow;
A moment's peace that warms their blood-
But then, they feel a pain unknown,
As treachery and horror flood!
This violence being struck by hand
Feels curdling deadly in their veins,
They tremble, hearing Death's demand,
They feel the music fade away...
What was this horror they have felt,
This urge to kill themselves inside?
The wonderful musician's hell
Was what invited them to try...


* a little odd poem...
:  Poetry
*my book*

:  
(2)

Desperation

, 20 2008 . 21:16 +
Desperation

I am falling down to darkness,
Where my eyes will see no light,
Where I'll never see the nightmares,
Or the comet in the sky.
I descend down in the waters,
Thinking deeply of my life-
People crying over matters,
Wars that tore their hopes apart...
But my heart begins to tremble,
There is nothing I can do-
I have failed this world forever...
I have failed to save the truth.
:  Poetry
*my book*
(2)

P.S.

, 17 2008 . 04:37 +
- .

;) , .

"...we will be cruel if we will want to -

- , .

, , - . =).

...I am a child of America, and having grown up there, I know this language better than the one I call my birth language. )
:  Poetry
[philosophy]
{sentence}
(0)

The Sun, The Moon, The Californian Wine.

, 15 2008 . 00:00 +
As the sun will boil our blood,
We will laugh and drench ourselves;
Through us the wine we taste will flood,
And make us drunk under the elms...

The Californian sun is hot,
The valleys swim among its rays;
So seems divine its name- whatnot,
A flaming spirit set ablaze.

I worship not this sun up high,
Or what we call the ocean blue;
I worship moonshine in the night,
And drink my wine under its hue...
:  Poetry

:  
(2)

{Stay, Love...}

, 28 2008 . 13:45 +

--{-(@ { Stay } @)-}--

Stay with me- I do not wish to leave;
This night will kill me if you close your eyes.
Your heart is cold- there's nothing it can feel...
Yet you can feel the beat of my own heart.
You are and always- the demon of revenge,
But what is hidden under your existence?
You are a saint- the one that can avenge-
But you are silent and love-ridden to the end.
Please stay- your burning tears will heal-
And after that, I'll stand alone again.
If you will wish it- you may come with me-
But to this end of night- I beg for you to stay...

+ @)-}-- +
:  Poetry
~dreams~

:  
(2)

[ Fight ]

, 18 2008 . 13:37 +
(336x448, 37Kb)
A war we cannot lose

There is no time to cower,
There's only time to run.
To make it to the hour,
The final shooting gun.
We'll never hide from bullets,
Behind another's chest-
We'll bleed and cry our tears out,
We'll fight for what is best...
There's no point, whatsoever,
In proposal to give in;
We'll live- it's now or never,
We'll fight until the end!

I can no longer make out those people in the mist, among the crowds of gray. I can no longer see what is best for this world, and I will not, until there will be a ray of light in what we call the eternal darkness. I will no longer lose that ray of hope...

[the world is cold, forevermore, and that way it will stay until the people change their ways]
:  Poetry
~dreams~
(2)

[ ]

, 12 2008 . 14:49 +
Dietrich

His lips are like a thousand stars;
They shine like dewdrops in the dawn.
His eyes go yonder, ceasing sighs,
So deep and drenching, drowning all.
He holds his tongue to lie once more,
To keep from her his dirty deeds;
He makes her heart and spirit soar,
For what he gives is what she needs.
A thousand strings will pierce her skin,
But she will never notice it;
A thousand kisses kiss her lips,
And take away the searing pain.
His lovely lips will touch her neck-
Until his hunger takes no more:
He'll bite her deeply like a snake,
And drink her soul forevermore...
:  Poetry
(0)

A cigarette in the night

, 10 2008 . 21:07 +
, .

- .

- ...[]


, - .

- .

{ , ?...}


Sorrow

Lighting a cigarette in through the night,
A shadow on end gazes into the sky;
The sorrow that fills him and bleeds out the light-
Is Sorrow his name?- do his lips ever lie...

His eyes keep the tears that have not fallen yet,
Those tears that will burn...that will tear him apart.
Poor Sorrow- those eyes I will never forget,
That smoke which will hide what is kept in that heart...
:  Poetry
[philosophy]

:  
(0)

[needles]

, 05 2008 . 22:39 +
(300x425, 33Kb)
A poison injected,
A life that is done;
A rebel rejected,
A mind that's undone.

Who was I to ask them?
Who was I to speak?
Five poisons injected-
A life they made weak...

[ ]
:  Poetry
[philosophy]
(2)

[faith]

, 30 2008 . 16:05 +
Faith

Is faith the wall we cower under?
A mindless tool to follow them-
The ones who call themselves a wonder,
Despite their homicidal stem.
I do believe- we've made a blunder,
Consulting gods to save our souls;
But what's a god that does not hear us,
Delivering 'Word' through lying fools...

, ... . , , , . ; , , .
:  Poetry
[philosophy]
(0)

The Stage

, 28 2008 . 10:20 +
The Stage

My lovely roses onto you I pass,
My hopes and bleeding dreams I take;
My world has reason unlike this world's last,
For all these naive goals were fake.
My friend, not you I blame for doing this:
These crimes of shallowness are Nature's deed...
Of all the others- you were not amiss,
Of all the friendships- it is yours I need...
Fair sorrow- take this mask I wear,
I'm tired of the play, the show, the stage!
This fakeness frames the truth- the world behind.
And all its actors suffer to this age.
But there will come a time to show the other side,
When desperate deceivers fall-
The light of truth will lead the clumsy blind,
And waves of hate will punish all!
:  Poetry
*my book*
(0)

"The Death Song"

, 21 2008 . 13:29 +


They sing the death song
As they go. They sing
The death song as they go;
I hear them coming through
And by. I hear them
Coming through the night.

They come to murder us,
The people. They are
Sweeping up the land;
They sing the death song
As they go. They sing
The death song as they go...


Life... . How? ? ? Hah. . - : ...=)
:  Poetry
[philosophy]
~dreams~
*my book*
(0)

...

, 20 2008 . 16:16 +
? , , .
.
,
,
,
, .

- . . ø


. ...
:  Poetry

:  

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