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 Posted: Wed Feb 20, 2008 6:13 am
first poem on theard!
this one is called release!!
blood flow from my wrist
blood flow from my neck
why u ask do i do ths
cause life is like a poisonous kiss
its the only release from my pain
the only way to stop the rain
oh bright clensing flame
do me no shame
release me from this world
cause my life is a wreck
someone save me from this heck
i was lost and my demon came
now im falling never to b saved
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Posted: Thu Feb 21, 2008 1:19 pm
wow that was dark but really good 3nodding
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DrinkEvilTea Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Feb 21, 2008 2:10 pm
Okay guys, this is the first true poem I have ever done, without being forced to by some english teacher.
The One?
Here you stand before me
Looking into my eyes,
The longing and fear
Dances across your velvet lips.
How could I be the one?
You smile and brush my cheek,
Your hand as soft as down.
The light works wonders,
All through your brown eyes.
How could I be the one?
My feelings betray me,
My heart is inside your hand.
I gave you my all,
Yet you just don't understand.
Am I really the one?
You fill my dreams and and my mind,
Ever present in all my thoughts.
You say you need me, more than I know.
Then why then don't you show me?
I might just be the one.
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Posted: Fri Apr 11, 2008 9:43 pm
It's more of a saying than a pome but uhem...
The first breth is just the begining of death.
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2008 2:27 pm
My world ends like this.
My world ends like this.
My world ends like this.
My world does not end with a bang but a whimper.....
My own heart is as black as the ravens that feast upon the dead on the battlefield.
The battlefield is a place only for those who carry the instinct, the will, and the love to spill the blood of those who stand in their way. Their eyes are those of a wolf, dark, cunning, and blood thirsty. The only way to know is to look at them, look at them deeply in those eyes, eyes as dark as the deepest pit of hell, but to do this means death....
Even though I am innocent in virtue, I am not a saint...just like every one else I have my own shadows to deal with, mine are just darker, for my heart is the blackest, the coldest, and the most unfeeling to beat on this world, I am Death On Black Wings, I am the raven who tears the soul from my enemy, the wolf that rips out the throat of my enemy an let the blood pulsing through the stain the earth with its crimson texture.
This poem was written by me.
The Red King Kyo
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