Poetry

Emily


Emily

Emily, 21 september 2012

Of Any Help

How in the world are you of any helpful alleviation, 
Taking my self underlying words of stressful misery,
Twisting them into a mere, mocking imitation,
Putting for no effort to to understand nor truly see?

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9/11/12


number of comments: 0 | rating: 2 | detail

Emily

Emily, 15 march 2012

To Cease the Hurt

Apathetic to this unbearable suffering, those callous antagonizers,
Constantly achieving their unsightly wants through this affliction.
Abject adjustments have amplified as ambitions shift to minors;
With no mind to this pitless void, they continue with this infliction.

Typical me, not able to express this dismay and resentment,
As these self-absorbed intimidators aggravate in contentment.
It is unbelievable how emotional torment can be so traumatizing,
And hurtfully damaging to one's state of mind and being.

I cannot bring myself to like many my age,
For they usually act in this individualistic way.
Why can I not allow my silence to disengage,
And for once see to it that it shall all go away?

Somehow, I shall cease my usual, irritating reticence
And resume living through some of life's redolence.

I just have to, so please leave me alone.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 2 | detail

Emily

Emily, 11 march 2012

Substantial to Meaningless

A lineage of righteous characters,
All bestowing each other radiant hues,
The stone of pyschedelic sentiments,
The holder of thriving vitality. 

The iridescence of sapphire, so tranquil and royal,
Exchanges pigments each instance, each hand.

Its psyche trades for emerald, enigmatic yet enamored,
Residing emphatically within those who securely loves.

Hues renovate unnaturally to scarlet, so noble and spiritual,
Painted intricately by the rosiness of glittering cerise.
 
Amethyst, so frequent, peaceful, stable alongside intuition, 
Actualizes purity in the state of gentle composure, mind.

It is now passed to a new generation of living beings,
A contradicting energy of individuality to the previous.

With each passing hand, increasingly vain, 
The pigmentation degenerates into corruption.

From elegant azure to amplifying maroon,
From forest chroma to serene mauve,
Now discolored by the greed of simple humanity, 
Lowered dejectedly into the void of pettiness.

Pitch-black and demolished from resplendence,
The stone of oblivion now stares spiritlessly.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 4 | detail

Emily

Emily, 8 march 2012

To Keep;To Free

Daybreak's song cries out in continuous grief,
Following the loss of its companion,
Its physical entity fomerly occupied.

It carries the wordless lyrics,
Yet is unable to allow their descent,
For their bodies have lowered into oblivion.

The mourning dove-like voice within
Resonates lowly through the subdued wind,
Seeking its once before living medium. 

The sonority fades in and out
Over and over again.

Why does this protection
Leave merely lamentation?

The melody wishes to forever protect
The shards already eternally shattered.

You shall never seek 
To let it all go free.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 5 | detail

Emily

Emily, 7 march 2012

Ceasing Pearls

The drops that are dismally lost,
And the drops that never change
Remains glittering in this endless abyss.

Inside of this aimless pit of black nothing,
An unfamiliar shade of effulgence
Illuminates the midst of its own entity.

The torch that you have been given
Resides in your former glacial hand.

The cease of the accumulation of mourning, cascading glass
Has abruptly put a pacifying, meaningful end
To the grief of the transparent beads' being.

There are others that remain, however.

Some shall always find a leading way
Through this merciless yet benign world.

Those lamenting, descending globules of your's 
Remains falling in the vaults of your reflections, 

Yet they have now emphatically
Found a reason to be at some rest.


number of comments: 7 | rating: 5 | detail

Emily

Emily, 6 march 2012

To Admit Your Mistakes

I dislike how many
never truly admit that
they are wrong when
they know they are.

Their stubborn, prideful attitude
will merely lead to
more mistakes and falls
directed unsurprisingly towards themselves.

Do not sink countless
of times into such
impractical and incorrect methods
consisting of egoistical foolishness.

It is okay to admit your mistakes when they are known;
It is, however, even better when you learn from them.


number of comments: 3 | rating: 7 | detail

Emily

Emily, 1 march 2012

To Be Kind

Why should I disintegrate the fragments of my fragile individuality
For the sake of others who gives no mind nor care to my well-being?
I have always foolishly expressed naive kindness in mindless vitality,
And receive mere ignorance in return for its apparent meaning.

Maybe I should coldy rebuff these self-absorbed people,
And leave them all to rot under my usually concealed antipathy,
Ignore their desires for help while wallowing in glacial, astringent steel,
For they shall never again take such low advantages of me.

However, I do not wish to do so.

They may be ridiculously superficial;
They may be unpleasantly self-seeking,
But I have realized with a guilty mind of a fool 
That kindness can reach some living beings.

To me, kindness is an important, strengthening vitality
That many individuals need in their developing substantiality.
I shall unrelentlessly give many of it on my own free will,
For kindness is what keeps most of our hearts from halting completely still.


number of comments: 6 | rating: 5 | detail

Emily

Emily, 1 march 2012

Reckless Kindness

There are those times when I am bitterly weary,
Worn down by the outcomes of my childish generosity,
Angry and torn by ignorant individuals' lowest reactions,
And doubting whether I should continue being recklessly kind.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 2 | detail

Emily

Emily, 22 february 2012

Sleepless Fear

I cannot composedly slumber in the convenience of my mind, 
For fear has trickled uncomfortably in my easily worried psyche,
Disrupting its former state of calm and emanating tranquility,
And slowsly sinking me into the depths of anxious anticipation.


number of comments: 2 | rating: 1 | detail

Emily

Emily, 22 february 2012

Artless Days

The canvas in which I breathe through is unmovingly blank,
For I have not included myself in the iridescent paint of vitality.
I long to brush aimlessly beyond this artless, motionless rank,
And decorate with the blooming nature of my emerging individuality.


number of comments: 1 | rating: 3 | detail


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