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Literature Text
Creator, why invent me without flaws?
In me you see a goddess so divine
But absolute perfection isn't mine
To give to you to fuel your endless lust.
My darling, do I give your heart desire?
You live to dream, but you will never see
That light sheds truth on nighttime's fantasy:
As the sun rises, I return to dust.
By Aphrodite's grace, you know I trust
Your judgment when you call me beautiful
As the Huntress' moon, radiant, full--
Yet not so flawless, as I have discussed.
I am your Galatea, made alive,
But only in your mind can I survive.
In me you see a goddess so divine
But absolute perfection isn't mine
To give to you to fuel your endless lust.
My darling, do I give your heart desire?
You live to dream, but you will never see
That light sheds truth on nighttime's fantasy:
As the sun rises, I return to dust.
By Aphrodite's grace, you know I trust
Your judgment when you call me beautiful
As the Huntress' moon, radiant, full--
Yet not so flawless, as I have discussed.
I am your Galatea, made alive,
But only in your mind can I survive.
Literature
I Keep Hiting the same Red Lights
light-blue stars, in a green-colored grass
christmas is coming late
floors that reflect the ceilings
ceilings that reflect the infinite
holding hands, gripped in to the wall
running through the halls
it's a still image
while mine is stopping,
I felt my soul leave
to set a beach net
between two pillars of a comercial building
for she to rest
until i decide to live again
until i decide to ramble my roots
in the cement ground
like a miracolous tree that burns out of the disks
scamble tightly along the digitalized sky,
colours vivid
voices like the mermaids that breath toxic seas
and at the top stand the mannequins,
showing their transexual freed
Literature
Something Behind Every Thing Pt. 2
I have a thought that leads to a feeling,
an emotion locked inside an empty soul.
I lie when I answer with I don't care,
and hold back a wall of tears
beneath my blank stare.
My torn heart has shattered
because of the silence that consumes me,
leaving me to feel lonely.
Behind closed eyes,
I am unreadable,
with no way of letting others know,
the reason why I say I'm fine,
The reason why I put up a wall of happiness,
when I feel so much pain.
Literature
The Ecstasy Of Faith
You can breathe life into water
You can pull your face tauter
You cannot change nature
You cannot do everything later
Stupid
Like two rock stars
Complaining
One shows off too much
That is their job
To be cheered
To be larger than life
But it is more than hard
Being others dreams
It is a nightmare
.
Ego
Is the reflection of civilization
Your ability to reach its highest standards
Without a stable rung on this ladder
The fun sponge society
Soaks up strength
By squeezing it from souls below
Looking down
The mouth opens
“You are overthinking it’
I hear this lie a lot
Focus is my friend
It brought me everything
Including
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Soooo...
DFC Day 2: Canzone
I decided to be kind to myself and write this one with 10-syllable lines, which are hella more natural more me than 11-syllable lines because I grew up with Shakespeare and have tried iambic pentameter before incrappy sonnets.
Rhyme: ABBC DEEC CFFC GG.
Galatea is from a Greek myth in which a lonely man makes a woman out of clay. She's perfect. Too perfect. And I've noticed that a lot of people involved in any sort of romantic relationship tend to idolize the other person and refuse to see their flaws. I'm totally guilty. We've all done it at some point or another.
This was an enormous pain in the ass, and I'm still not quite satisfied with it... the last two lines feel super forced. I hate couplets. Yes, I do. If anyone has a brilliant idea, please feel free to drop me a comment. For now, I'm passing out.
The goal is to get over this panicking sensation I feel every time I attempt a fixed form poem.
Read about DFC here! [link]
DFC Day 2: Canzone
I decided to be kind to myself and write this one with 10-syllable lines, which are hella more natural more me than 11-syllable lines because I grew up with Shakespeare and have tried iambic pentameter before in
Rhyme: ABBC DEEC CFFC GG.
Galatea is from a Greek myth in which a lonely man makes a woman out of clay. She's perfect. Too perfect. And I've noticed that a lot of people involved in any sort of romantic relationship tend to idolize the other person and refuse to see their flaws. I'm totally guilty. We've all done it at some point or another.
This was an enormous pain in the ass, and I'm still not quite satisfied with it... the last two lines feel super forced. I hate couplets. Yes, I do. If anyone has a brilliant idea, please feel free to drop me a comment. For now, I'm passing out.
The goal is to get over this panicking sensation I feel every time I attempt a fixed form poem.
Read about DFC here! [link]
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Gorgeous poem