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xkiss_me_hardx
Junior Member

since 2003-07-08

Posts 13

0 posted 2003-07-08 07:35 PM

This poem is called snow on saturday. This poem doesn't have blood and guts in it but it comes somewhat close. This actually is a song that I wrote, parts of it are meant to be screamed and parts are meant to be whispered but it doesn't really matter for these purposes. It's a poem about when you find that one person you truely care about and they were just using you and rip your heart out.

such a pure pale day
with the world covered in white innocence
I've brushed hands with hell before
but I have never held such a frosty glare
or touched unimpassioned pallid flesh
look into the stars,
and wish for your most benevolant desires,
on the first and brightest eyes u see.

Have u ever seen a dead body?
half buried in the virgin snow
as if it could cover the injustice and guilt
souls starring from frozen glass balls
and sin as blurry as the clouds overhead,
I don't know what I want from you?
except maybe listless sleeping nightes
where we won't forget a lasting embrace.

Mortals are dead before birth
still born souls in hateful shells
carefully... lusting
tasting a pefect pair of lips
as she reaches deep into your chest,
gripping as if she has only one life to steal
and with one maelevolant wrench...

look at the snow as it falls on saturday morning

Mysteria

Member Laureate

since 2001-03-07

Posts 18328
British Columbia, Canada

1 posted 2003-07-09 12:39 PM

I really like this! I like the images you created to get your point across and the pain. This also showed a bit of hope that there is good after things end.

JamesMichael
Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-16

Posts 33336
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA

2 posted 2003-07-09 06:08 AM

The ones I really like are the ones that are so sincere but they were using you all along...and you want to believe them so bad that you set yourself up...James

eor
Senior Member

since 2002-09-26

Posts 959
blues & greys

3 posted 2003-07-09 03:57 PM

great choice of words, i liked this alot...

"in a past life i was a woodcarver's knife: the sharpend blade of a wood cutter, the eldest son of the chief's brother: a maker of drums"

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