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Literature Text
Oceans are treacherous in the dark
It's hard to sail through the night
I can't allow the ones I love to sink
So I become a guiding light
Like a lighthouse I'll show them the way
I'll hopefully keep them from harm
Their shivering spirits cry my name
This flame inside will keep them warm
My fiery aura will light up the sky
No matter how dark things may seem
I burn brightest for the ones I love
I'm passionate to the extreme
Warmth can combat frigid storms
It's why I try to stay ablaze
Being strong is something I've got to do
To help their ships get through the haze
As a beacon I give my support
I am a lighthouse willing to guide
Though my tower may be worn and cracked
I'll light up their darkness from inside
It's hard to sail through the night
I can't allow the ones I love to sink
So I become a guiding light
Like a lighthouse I'll show them the way
I'll hopefully keep them from harm
Their shivering spirits cry my name
This flame inside will keep them warm
My fiery aura will light up the sky
No matter how dark things may seem
I burn brightest for the ones I love
I'm passionate to the extreme
Warmth can combat frigid storms
It's why I try to stay ablaze
Being strong is something I've got to do
To help their ships get through the haze
As a beacon I give my support
I am a lighthouse willing to guide
Though my tower may be worn and cracked
I'll light up their darkness from inside
Literature
The Death Within Life
Raging Seas
Dark skies
Endless tears
Cold fires
That is what life is.
No fairy godmothers
or knights in shining armor.
Only witches and cauldrons
recipes for disaster.
There are no three wishes
or steeds that fly.
No hero, no powers,
certainly no rewinds.
Life is but time
flowing forward.
Spent by little moments
we call ours.
It is never enough,
not once.
Fragments engraved
they're left to remain.
Not even our mind, our knowledge
can prolong our hours.
To live them as they come
seconds remembered, never forgotten.
To let them pass
by our envy and our pride.
No wonder we are fools
both then and now.
Not one of us
Literature
left
there comes an evening
each october
when spring is broken:
winter sweeps back in,
swallowing the coast.
the hours are drawn,
long, and quiet -- save
for storming wind --
where pride recedes
to leave the heart
ill-watched, unguided,
for this eve only,
to remember what it has lost.
hands, thick with cold,
shallow-lung'd and lonely,
waiting for chamomile to steep,
sleep to steal:
as the night ticks through
each moment is meticulous,
sliced clean from next
by key-stroke --
throat-formed,
shaped on tongue to fit:
each syllable is moulded
carefully composed,
pressed to curves by thumb
and folded
until, at last,
something of beauty is wrought
Literature
don't you stop 'til you know you're gone
the bone-flutes are flooding out my lucidity.
nothing makes sense, but everything belongs.
the sheets are oily and hot on my skin.
exhausted, i try to escape,
only to drop out of reality and through the floors.
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Usually I'd write something here, but I don't feel like it. The poem is pretty straightforward.
Comments8
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I love this poem soooo much.
It made me feel the way I used to feel when I was a child and I was living in Africa.. I loved to jump and dance and run on the beach..
Oh my God!!.. Thank YOU!!
I had forgotten completely.
I just feel like jumping and danciiing.. and.. aaah..
aaaahh..
I don’t even know why I feel this way
THANK YOU!!..
THANK YOU!!..
THANK YOUUUUUUU!!..
It made me feel the way I used to feel when I was a child and I was living in Africa.. I loved to jump and dance and run on the beach..
Oh my God!!.. Thank YOU!!
I had forgotten completely.
I just feel like jumping and danciiing.. and.. aaah..
aaaahh..
I don’t even know why I feel this way
THANK YOU!!..
THANK YOU!!..
THANK YOUUUUUUU!!..