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Devoted LoveSuch a smile can halt a rainy day;
An angel that hints the coming of a calm.
Wings askew; the same soothing feeling still present.
Cold hearts are warmed with such a beings presence,
A smile can appear on any saddened day.
As such love I hold for you cannot be amounted;
Forever and always I wish to be by your side;
Until the day that I die.
What You Said
What you said, I really truly believed.
Your voice so soft, so sincere.
Yet now look where it led me...
These cold hard chains of despair.
I should've know what you said wasn't true...
You were only there to break my heart, to ruin my life.
Now I lay here, watching my own blood,
Run across the cold floor, turn black before my eyes.
No one comes, no one cares.
Why the hell should you?
I have no point in life,
And now I end it,
To be free of what you have poisoned me with.
With the pain going through me, never to leave this tortured body,
I give it up with ease, never to see true light again,
Because of what you said...
AloneSo alone in this cold world,
Shut up in a silent cage.
Yet, sometimes there is that certain thing...
That unlocks the cage...
To allow you to be free,
But when will this happen to me?
I fear I will forever be,
One of the cursed,
One of the damned,
No one cares,
I just lay here and think of these things,
That, one day...
Will lead me to my true self,
That is kept hidden far away,
*Past and Present*One hundred years ago
When summer cast golden glow
Weeping willows, river side
Cast gentle shade, punts could glide.
Mild, quiet summer day
Strawberry smell and smell of hay
Silken dress on a boat
Shaded by parasol, afloat.
Today loud music rocks river
Weeping willows really weep
T/shirt slogans, blue jean rule
Now we’re noisy but very cool.
Poem for Lou ReedTruly singular, an outsider’s outsider,
He learned well life’s hard truths, and was walking proof that
Your thoughts are only as deep as your faults.
Subjected to psychic savagery in his youth,
His mind took on an ever-changing persona
Always shifting between fame and failure.
A misfit, a hustler, a rake, a transformer,
A rogue, but not a charlatan, an objector,
But not a coward, never a coward.
An expert spinner of verse, he possessed a knack
For feel, impact, attitude, style; he always knew
Which words were those worth the listener’s while.
His means and his methods were fittingly erratic:
He would spend his days crafting curiosities
Only to then neglect and forget them.
What was important, though, wasn’t his works or quirks,
Nor his talent for causing a storm at a stroke,
But what he and his friends set in motion.
They would, unwittingly, forever change the way
We’d hear the sounds the mind thought it already kn
The Beginningons ago, before time and space,
Was born a set of twins who took its place.
One had eyes of daybreak and hair of sun,
The other, hair of night and eyes of blood.
Born to Laelia, Singer of Light and Love,
Husband to Laelius, God who rules with a fitted glove.
‘Twas a difficult birth, screams echoed through the empty world,
But Laelia was never alone or so the story told.
Lucifer was first, life entered with hollow cries,
Laurentius was next, his smiles greeted by butterflies.
Both welcomed with joyous celebration.
Excited Laelius, humans, his creation.
The Twins then never left each others sides.
Except when heavy choices caused morals to collide.
Why I Hold On TighterThe gunshot echoes penetrating the air,
Increasing tensions in military warfare.
Knives that puncture and slice apart,
Fists of rage that damage skin and heart.
Explosions and smoke so sudden and fast,
No time to recover from the devastating blast.
A moment frozen in time after the disease diagnosed,
Tears falling on a body lifeless and comatose.
Car horns and screeching wheels on the pavement so loud,
Two victims of a crash of the rain from a cloud.
Though all of these things do not fill me with fright,
It is to you, my dear, they make me hold tight.
Vulnerable YouthPaper hearts from bright pink tissue meant for presents,
fanciful butterflies from orange dashed cardboard,
five petaled flowers danced around the sentence
of simplicity, ultimately to discard.
Tender thoughts from censored, guarded minds,
boldly do the simple stubby fingers strive to hide
the gift from Mommy, so that she can't find
the secret depth of the darkest snide.
The gentle pressure of acknowledging gestures
even the meaningless thank you cards
meant to send you on emotional adventures,
only to be shredded on cynical hearts' shards.
But it is the thought that counts,
those sweet little eyes haven't yet been renounced.
NeedlesThe meat is cold from bloodless lust
My organs are damaged
Path be taken down range-
-And end with chilling wall
Forest of needle spires climb
My height cannot ask
Deem the stars they point-
-For reverence physical
Destroyed as winter comes
Invested into my stock
I am bought and brought home
With no escape from the lock
Needle sew a coat of iron
Black with the char left by
Remembrance make me a scion
And kindle a soul inside
Lids have shut and no key breaks
I cannot see between blades
Cut the night to ribbons-
-Now banners to losing way
Imposing in my blindness wait
My feet are icy cold
The forward march is death incarnate-
-Though I am numb to catch
A fabric stolen mask and clothe
The boundary pointed shed
Once streamers bleeding dry wove
The semblance of disjointed ends
No try can match the mind at work
For ochre has my pallor drained
This raiment bears a doubting murk
Through glacier impassive face
My asking wanes with setting freeze
The armour frozen bites
A pleading body already w
Poetic DarknessPoetic Darkness
We are made of waiting—
Bending over, stabbing the chest,
Nothing but bullets and pain.
Then why did I cry today,
When I dreamt your suicide note?
All day long I had been carrying these tears hidden.
You feel as if the music is happily heading
like mountain chains, hurdling ridges, peaks and mesas.
The thought will flicker, and then go out.
A dove wing folded
Is merely bent, beaten.
And then the devil glances into the room.
He’s like a crow in a crowd of magpies.
The saints and the sinners say the same thing:
“Today, like every other day, we wake up empty,”
“Night also sleeps,”
“Desire is a cold drink,”
“Nothing in nature is a metaphor.”
Beautiful, really, the way the buildings fall in.
The Day She Falls Off Her ThroneToday she stands tall
On a mountain of deceit
But one day she'll fall
She'll be tossed off of her feet
And when this day comes
The day her reign is put to an end
She will have nothing left but crumbs
Nobody to attend
And whose fault will it be?
Her Mother's, Father's, or her own?
Perhaps all three
On the joyous day that she falls off her thrown
Yes I hate you.
There's no doubt to it.
You ruined my life.
Now I ruin yours.
Decided to come and barge into my life.
You were fine at first,
Until I learned your goal.
To hurt me,
So you could go join your buddies,
Down at the local jail.
I hate you,
You hate me,
We hate each other,
I've never loved anything,
Never have you,
We make a pretty good team,
Never realized that.
Lets ruin this world.
Decided to accept it,
My new thought fate,
That I was soon to break.
You were a fool to trust me,
For I am a demon from hell,
I never keep a promise.
I truly hate you, I never actually thought,
I could actually trust you.
You can't think, you can't read,
That my face shows hate,
All towards you.
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More