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Post by Sorrows on Apr 11, 2006 21:23:32 GMT -8
Peripheral Existance
I am he who wanders the corners of your mind. Seer of all; Laughter of some; Breath of none.
I traverse these borders alone, Careful of the ever twisting nether, Wary of the sweet deceptions of the heart, And victim to the fate of the peripheral.
I whisper in your ear with words comforting, Lending you confidence and strength, Though I have none yet to give. Words are my only show; Sacrifice my only gift.
I would tear this want from my soul T'were there not illusions of possiblity Dancing 'cross my vision, taunting, Ever stealing despair and joy from me.
I shall ever wander here ephemeral, Waiting for a breath to come to me And return that which I gave willingly Unto this seemless void which I desire.
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Post by deliverance on Apr 12, 2006 7:54:47 GMT -8
It was commented earlier that this poem should've been written by me but since I was sleeping while second period, he wrote it instead.
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Post by Dark Beauty on Apr 20, 2006 13:00:51 GMT -8
Sorry, Deliverance... but this is work that only Sorrows could do. No offense meant. This is extremely good, Sorrows. I wish I could have your poetic style... it is very nice.
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Post by 7john7 on Apr 20, 2006 19:04:54 GMT -8
That's what is so great about poetry everyone has their own style and it is as unique as one's fingerprint. One could mimic it, but in the end you can tell if it's from that person's roots or not.
Anyway, nice poem Sorrows. Your style is very you, and I think that's awesome.
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Post by deliverance on Apr 20, 2006 21:10:00 GMT -8
+laughs+ No, Dark, his diction and my own vary vastly, however the idea behind it and the over all feeling is something that would come from me. He said so himself.
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Post by Raiku on Apr 21, 2006 14:23:41 GMT -8
Bah, write a happy poem...
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Post by deliverance on Apr 21, 2006 18:16:05 GMT -8
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Post by 7john7 on Apr 24, 2006 9:28:13 GMT -8
+laughs+ No, Dark, his diction and my own vary vastly, however the idea behind it and the over all feeling is something that would come from me. He said so himself. Well don't let the fact of him writing one about the same idea you had, stop you from writing one about it.
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Post by Raiku on Apr 24, 2006 18:11:55 GMT -8
Hehe, I think for once in my life I enjoyed being owned...
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Post by deliverance on Apr 24, 2006 22:25:05 GMT -8
+pats Thanatos on the head+ You have a long way to go little one.
As for my version of the poem, it probably has been written, but finding it in the abyss of my room would take some time...
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Post by 7john7 on Apr 25, 2006 15:38:10 GMT -8
I see lol. Well good luck with that. (( Sorry, getting off topic of this thread. Back to you Sorrows. ))
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Post by Raiku on Apr 26, 2006 12:53:31 GMT -8
Sorrows?! WHERE?!!!
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Post by deliverance on Apr 27, 2006 19:53:02 GMT -8
Heh, I'm not sure he'll be getting on here too quickly. I'm just bored out of my mind, but as soon as I get a job, you won't see much of me but at the torturous prison we call a ground of education.
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Post by Sorrows on Apr 10, 2007 19:12:59 GMT -8
Here's some more compositions, for those who still remember this section exists. I suddenly felt how lonely it felt in this thread.
Crimson Sky
Waves of Grey Compose a muddled Sea. Tears of Fury fall On forlorn paths. Swift ethereal bites Berate the flesh of reason. Upon a day like this, It’s hard to see past The color of perception. But with the mundane comes The word of a thousand thoughts, A perception of a hundred truths, And the hope of a dozen lies. Upon a day like this, I can see the Crimson Sky.
Words
Words are power, Stronger than you know. A sentence well wrought Can a world and soul show. A poem is a window, These letters, but tools. A thought without depth Is the expression of fools. So show me a world; A place only you can see. Let the words tell the story, The passion of a Destiny. Powerfully; Like it should be.
Dreams
Dreams can be so cruel. They show us a portal to another reality, One that does not exist, nor can. A world of fear or desire or confusion. Only for us to be ripped from it before the story can conclude.
You see a monster from the depths of your mind, Or the face of a friend whom you had forgotten, The name of a person you’ve never met And a friend whom you’ve never spoken to. You gain everything precious to you And lose it without the power to fight against it.
You see a world where you know you belong And people with whom you know you love Only to wake and remember that they’re not real. None of it is. It is only a dream.
It is the dreams that you don’t want to wake from that are gone, The people whom you don’t want to forget who disappear, The places you don’t want to leave that you can not stay. It is the best dreams that make you cry.
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Post by Zeffa! on Apr 11, 2007 7:17:57 GMT -8
Definitly like them. The first one is very flashy, with alot of descriptives, but there seems to be some good depth there.
The second one rhymed. Call me old-fashioned, but I like a good rhyme-scheme. And the last one, I think we've all had a dream once or twice, not that we'd likely remember anymore, that made us feel like that... I recall a few anyway.
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