Rambling

Another old poem. I can't even remember the title. I promise to get through the old stuff once I have finished with it. Then we can get back to my newer works, which are what I prefer.

When death has come, to take our souls, give me my honour, let loose on this world

Become beautiful among the living, buried alive breathing, lovelessness god drips seeping, the keeper of amnesty

Cold sun who no one knows, furious and alone, comatose

Deformed maelstrom

Abyssal superficial oblivion

It’s a beautiful world, people die, they are born, and they die again, torn asunder and buried under, just to rise up like a rose, and taste thorns in winters cold

Just like you, just like me, mongrel spawned breeds of society

Just because you have power doesn’t mean you have strength, strength is your humanity

I don’t like seeing people struggle, but through it, they will succeed

I want that day to come, closer with every breath, while the world finally comprehends happiness

Malnourished occurrence

Music has fornicated in my ears

A feast of yeast in the hellish belly of the beast

I am powerful, but no avatar of war, carnival carnivorous, I am but a pampered amateur, with a defensive stature and apprehensive sentences to a happy ever after, waiting for disaster to capture me

For the last time, I need a guide through the rapture

Insatiable in my meditation dominated by God's creations of predatory makeshift bricks are breaking, I see it, breathe it, unmistaken, condensed undiluted preservation realizations waiting to come to fruition, unlock the cell blocks in this prison

Emergency emerging carry my own burden

Living through yet another man’s battlefield

In the hollowed arteries of obelisks, the quiet exile of a leviathan

Author's Note

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.