Shanghai Alice
Exiled to Siberia
- 1,069
- Posts
- 14
- Years
- Section Eight
- Seen May 19, 2012
Alice
Caught between the raging waters,
Choosing to fly rather than swim.
Isolated from everyone.
Alone. Safe.
The trees of my sorrows stretch endlessly,
My cottage of isolation holds firm.
Wanting to scream, I need someone to hear me,
My dolls. My friends.
Reacting quickly,
My seal grows stronger.
With every encounter,
I work more feverishly.
My children, my dolls.
Nothing more than creations of my hands.
Yet I hand them my burden,
If only a bit of it.
A foe appears,
So I attack.
My territory is mine,
Yet they still enter.
To give the gift of life,
Is to make a perfect doll.
An imperfect creation,
My frustration doubles.
Like many before me,
I take the offensive.
A turtle has no fangs,
Only a hard shell.
The futility of my dream,
Yet the faint chance of success.
Every attempt brings me closer,
To a point I'll never reach.
I sealed myself for protection,
Yet even I need friends.
Though dolls never turn against you,
They are but shadows of myself.
The tears I shed at night,
Are not for my dolls alone.
I cry for my own failure,
My very own mind.
They invade my domain,
So they are the aggressors.
I lash out at those who deserve it,
The problem isn't me...
...right?
Patchouli
A recluse in her cell,
Yet free as a bird.
For more than a century,
I have not stirred.
This world of knowledge,
Beyond my mere magic.
For me this is Heaven,
Though seemingly tragic.
My constitution is poor,
But what does that matter?
Before the arcane,
All mortals shall shatter.
I want for little,
If anything at all.
So long as I'm here,
My Voile shan't fall.
Every page, of every book.
Fills me with deep hope.
Eternally reading,
That's how I cope.
Caught between the raging waters,
Choosing to fly rather than swim.
Isolated from everyone.
Alone. Safe.
The trees of my sorrows stretch endlessly,
My cottage of isolation holds firm.
Wanting to scream, I need someone to hear me,
My dolls. My friends.
Reacting quickly,
My seal grows stronger.
With every encounter,
I work more feverishly.
My children, my dolls.
Nothing more than creations of my hands.
Yet I hand them my burden,
If only a bit of it.
A foe appears,
So I attack.
My territory is mine,
Yet they still enter.
To give the gift of life,
Is to make a perfect doll.
An imperfect creation,
My frustration doubles.
Like many before me,
I take the offensive.
A turtle has no fangs,
Only a hard shell.
The futility of my dream,
Yet the faint chance of success.
Every attempt brings me closer,
To a point I'll never reach.
I sealed myself for protection,
Yet even I need friends.
Though dolls never turn against you,
They are but shadows of myself.
The tears I shed at night,
Are not for my dolls alone.
I cry for my own failure,
My very own mind.
They invade my domain,
So they are the aggressors.
I lash out at those who deserve it,
The problem isn't me...
...right?
Patchouli
A recluse in her cell,
Yet free as a bird.
For more than a century,
I have not stirred.
This world of knowledge,
Beyond my mere magic.
For me this is Heaven,
Though seemingly tragic.
My constitution is poor,
But what does that matter?
Before the arcane,
All mortals shall shatter.
I want for little,
If anything at all.
So long as I'm here,
My Voile shan't fall.
Every page, of every book.
Fills me with deep hope.
Eternally reading,
That's how I cope.
...if I can find "Suika", I'll post that one too.
Of course, I'm saving the more personal ones (Read: 80% of them) for myself. -_-
I write poems when depressed, and short stories when happy. So, yes.