Lonesome, like a leaf caught in the wind
I'm weak
And I don't know what to do
Or how to do it
I never open up like this
But I'm breaking down
I have nothing
I am nothing
Why are you so depressed?
I cannot take this anymore
Shackled in this sadness
With a life sentence of pain
I can't get what I want, but I get what I don't want
Day after day
Stuck in this pond
A mere toad of torture
What can't you take anymore?
The whole fact to which I cannot obtain...
I cannot obtain a thing
I've been shredded up
Inside and out
I feel so empty
So cold, my eyes of pain
Why have we strayed away?
Like lost clouds in a storm
Only to the thought of the forgotten
I am but a picture
A memory
A lost flashback
To never be opened again
Put away
Stored; misplaced
Like the tide, coming and going
Only these waves drowned themselves
Put down leagues away
As I should be
You hate being like this don't you?
I am like slime
Holding a shape
I am like air
Passed by as if non existent
Taken for granted with each breath
Easily broke, dissolved, digested
Crafted by people; lost and distraught
Unknown to touch
To all, from all
Perhaps this is how I am to be
An ugly form of love
I know what I am
I am a memory
I am a past
I am a thought
I am a reminder
Of?
Of all these things I have yet to figure out
Tell Me What You Think
Moderators: Moderators, Caretakers, Imps
took me a while to figture it out Long but worth a re-read
I love prose. And like Zidane, I had to reread it to fully appreciate it.
A character is like a weapon, made by a master smith.
Shaped by the blows of chance, upon the anvil of the world of Alora.
Forged in the heat of battle, quenched in their own blood.
But if they prove true, and show no flaw.
Then they are a suitable weapon for the hand of Celeborn.
Adapted from my work entitled Life as it appeared in The National Library of Poetry, 1997.
A character is like a weapon, made by a master smith.
Shaped by the blows of chance, upon the anvil of the world of Alora.
Forged in the heat of battle, quenched in their own blood.
But if they prove true, and show no flaw.
Then they are a suitable weapon for the hand of Celeborn.
Adapted from my work entitled Life as it appeared in The National Library of Poetry, 1997.
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Vogar Eol
- Dual-Avatar
- Posts: 389
- Joined: Sat Oct 23, 2004 11:39 pm
- Location: Darstan, Alora
- Contact:
The song I sing
Will tell the tale
Of a cold and wintery day;
Of castle walls
and torchlit halls
And a price men had to pay.
When evil fled
and brave men bled
The Dark one came to stay,.
Till men of old
For blood and gold
Saved Alora from the fey
Will tell the tale
Of a cold and wintery day;
Of castle walls
and torchlit halls
And a price men had to pay.
When evil fled
and brave men bled
The Dark one came to stay,.
Till men of old
For blood and gold
Saved Alora from the fey
~Vogar Eol, Beater of Blades
Thane Ezbad, The Circle of Steel
Thane Ezbad, The Circle of Steel