Why do you come?
you from the depths of ruins, you come crawling out of the gloom. hatred is your favorite toy, your mingled mind distorts the view. suspicious.......so quick to snap. intertwined in your own thoughts, you never feel welcome or like you belong, no one wants to be your friend, and yet you are never over powered.
You, creature of negativity and harsh words, you with no heart for sympathy, you pititful creature. those cloudy tears drown you inside, your nothing but lost rays at dusk. you frusturate me with your frusturation,
with a tear of confusion lingeringmon your lash,
........color washed from yo
when i look at the stars... by aurorafae, literature
Literature
when i look at the stars...
When I look at the stars
I feel as if the smirk of the night entrances my gullible life,
Life that is nothing but a walking illusion in our cardboard and cellophane world,
World that is nothing but a box in which we imprint clueless inventive procedures,
Procedures that enhance the intelligent stupidity that decreases our existence,
Existence that wanders the sky with drunken eyes,
Eyes so blurred we drown out the transparency of the fake reality,
Reality too overlooked to be real,
Real only are our lips that releases venomous corrupting lies to all of our race,
Race that bites nature with sharp vicious fangs,
Fangs that sink into
my last star had fallen
life lived in a pantomime
my smile languished and my spirit blanched
i knew i was imprisoned in the ruse of time
just a suppliant for freedom
shrouded in bland shades of grey
wishes shattered by calamity
sinking from the oppressive fray
i was offered counsel
but no one understood
of how my world was waning
and how my spirit would
life was so flat
i could almost trip over its boredom
the curve of my imagination straitened
always staring at my dulling freedom
i was drowning in my apalling thoughts
dragged off to that white washed tower
where i was force-fed knowledge soon to be forgot
over my being i
it's almost lost in the drift of my memory river now, though its golden highways still accompany the running stories, the endless summer so beautiful
it approached as an illusion, fragile smiles it carried with care, through those humid sandstone days, across the citrine sue and waxing moon, while we bathed in the fountains of precious adolesant freedom
the rays caressed our ever burning sense of adventure, everyone knew better than to try to block our paths
lucid aqua waters, sunburst horizons, misty lush forests of rain, cities of casual purity
--we met the never ending depths of friendship, locked in our chain of thirty three links
-l