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Eliana
February 22nd, 2006, 05:50 PM
I doubt anyone is going to understand what this is really about, considering sadly poetry is dead at PC.

I'll post is anyways.

No, this is not "Emo" or about suicide.

Enjoy!

Swear It’s The End

Murder.
You f***ing killed me.
Left me to rot, to die, to sink under my pathetic miseries.
Don’t think I’ll surface to your chaotic hell again; it’s far from worth it.

To simply think about you disgusts me;
You pushed me down; well I’ll shove you farther into your own deadly sins.
Then you can see, feel, understand what it’s like to be broken and wholesome simultaneously;
Trapped inside a freakish whirlpool between suicide and survival.
And you’ll drown in delusions, hallucinations, your own hypocritical schizophrenia;
And no one will hear your petty screams;
Because then it will dawn upon you that no one ever cared.

So let me dissipate, vanish into this morning air;
So peaceful at first glance; but you need to look oh so deeper-
It’s so desolate on the inside.
Just try to take a single breath- you’ll swallow your own distant words instead.
This is what being undead is all about;
Still walking, still breathing, when you know there’s no point.
When you realize you’ll end up in an endless circle, revolving forever around an unwanted life.

As you listen to the footsteps of real existing people, their breathing upon your body, their mere existence shoving you away; you realize you despise them.
And that’s when you discover that no one’s really there.

Swear; swear it’s the end so I can rest in the twisted shards of my own broken bones;
Swear it’s the end so I can disappear into this hollow night, away from the nightmares of endless terror.
Swear it’s the end- being gone is far better than this sorrowful existence.

Dimensional horrors; reality strikes you with its cruel scythes of time.
No mercy upon anyone as it obliterates you to pieces.
No one survives its hideous path; a supernatural tornado, wrecking havoc in its pathways of doom.
No doubt you’ll be its next victim; there is no possible means of escape.

And you’ll hurt; hurt worse than anything you will ever imagine.
Too overwhelming to scream, to cry, to beg for salvation.
Bribery is useless; artifice will get you nowhere.
You’ll be bound with manacles of apathy and spite;
Locked behind the doors of destiny and fate-
God knows where they’ll take you-
Because I sure as hell don’t know where I am now;
Lost in foggy memoirs of what I once knew; mutilated aberrations of my forgotten childhood.
Forever covered by the sands of death and mutiny, never to be touched by hands again.
And through all of this…I’ll know he’s not there.

So I present myself, a casualty before the frozen air; an empty hole.
Nothing to show except for these open wounds;
Stinging so painfully as the wind whips across these broken plains of errors.
Broken- like me.
Both affected by the traumatic losses of a long lost war, echoes of a past so long ago.
And through all of this…I’ll know you’re still there.
Never truly gone, never fully dead, and you’ll always haunt me;
Sweet mockeries of your soul blow my skull apart.

Someone swear that it’s the end,
Someone put my soul at rest…

Bearing his promise is far too much…

Lady Akita
February 25th, 2006, 03:13 PM
Well I would say my feelings on this except you'd think me stupid. One of the only poems around that I actually like. It's deep, and full of meaning. Not just some really old poem that looks like it's been written by a first grader.

Eliana
February 26th, 2006, 06:37 AM
Well I would say my feelings on this except you'd think me stupid. One of the only poems around that I actually like. It's deep, and full of meaning. Not just some really old poem that looks like it's been written by a first grader.
Pssh, my dear. I never would do that, you're an amazing writer too.

Thanks, it's part of this Poetry opera sort of thing I am working on. ^^