Brought to in part by the awesomeness of Poetry.
SpoilerWhat will separate us from these chains of hate ?
What tries to bond us becomes fate ?
Why do you stand there all happy-like ?
Why do you enjoy tearing me up inside ?
Something about you just makes me quiver
Your outside now, quick let me see you shiver
Aww, whatís wrong now? Are you freezing?
If you be good now, Iíll let you in, just maybe
There there, your inside now, thereís no need to cry
Oh donít look at me,
Donít ask why I put you outside.
I only let you in to say goodbye.
Goodbye my love, Iíll miss you dearly.
Our life has been swell, but your making me weary
Leave now, and take your things;
Leave me to my lonesome
Alone finally, I have done it.
Years of torment and years of grief,
I have come up with a belief:
I shall not let you live
ďCome backĒ I say, there are things to be done,
You leaving made you think that you were done.
Oh sweetie, things have just begun.
I will tie you up to this rusty old chair.
Your skin is so fair,
Ah, and so is your hair
Music to my ears.
Oh darling, wonít you look up?
Look at who appears:
It is your favorite knife Ė
The one that would surely cause you strife.
Now look at me if you please,
Iím tempted to squeeze,
The life out of your body.
You are nothing but a rotting whore;
sleeping with men here,
And sleeping with men there,
Taking your clothes off one day,
And putting them on the next.
Now you wonder why your life was brought to such dismay.
The final hours of your life are coming.
Like that clock above you,
Everything is ticking,
And everything is tocking.
When will your blood spill?
When will it fly high in the invisible skyÖ.?
Only Iím the controller of thatÖ
And no blood shall flight high in the sky
None shall soar ever-so high.
Only to the ground,
As it drips and slips and slides down your gown.
Oh, do you hear that now?
The clock above youÖ
It strikes now.
Big hand on the 3,
And little hand on the twelve.
Itís time for this knife In my hand to go deep and down,
Into your gown
Look at all that blood.
Your screaming loud, but no one is around.
The person sitting In front of you is your last view.
Rain, Rain Go Away
SpoilerRain rain, go away
Please donít make me stray away,
From this love that, I try to hide
It makes me feel all dead inside
Rain rain, disappear
Iím drowning my sorrows at this pier
My heart now is torn in parts
I cannot believe how I fell apart.
Rain, rain, get away from me
Leave me in solitude; just let me be
I got so much pain inside
All I want to do is die tonight
Rain, rain you drop on my skin
You reveal how much I died within
This heart she took was never enough
Because of that, I had to act tough
Rain, rain, the end is near
Cause of my sorrow, Iím shedding a tear
Now I take this knife, jam it inside,
And say goodnight
Rain, rain go away
Please come back another day
Iím now finally dead
Free of sorrow and free of dread
SpoilerA poet with no thoughts,
The idea comes to mind,
But the words come out flat
Theyíre emotionless in appearance,
And entirely false
They are a fraud in meaning
And the poet searches for a way pass writerís block
Here is the poet who has no concept
But writes for the thrill of it
You probably know him by his name,
But that is irrelevant.
He writes for the love of it,
And not cause of emotions thrown into it.
Yes, the poet just writes because he can
And because he can, he continues to write.
The poet is very tired, as that is very obvious
His words sloppy,
And form is off.
His meter is not correct,
But he does not care
His writing is about whatís fair
To him, and him alone. This is the poet
Who writes at night,
And this is quite alright.
SpoilerI feel a tingling in my spine
A reverberating pain? Could it be mine?
Little pinches of hell begin to intertwine.
I turn to my left; the clock is at nine.
A burst of confusion erupts from my eyes
The sanity I once knew now dies.
I welcome darkness as it has become mine.
Surrendering my vanity is only but a distant line.
A night of memories is what I remember.
Are these feelings forced to surrender?
A locket of feelings wants to come out,
but hell forces me to be dismembered.
This is nothing compared to happiness,
It's more like sadness;
A feeling that becomes my weakness
I just feel bad for this bottled up loneliness.
This tingling in my spine is going to be gone
The amount of words to leave my mouth shall be none.
I know this is forbidden among the forbidden,
But I fail to see the problem with the feelings I have been given.
I do not know about what is wrong with this.
I know my feelings are going to be blissfully missed
I am not going to leave this an open wound.
I am just going to get control of this very soon.
Grim Reaper's Night
SpoilerThere is a reaper following you at night.
He only brings you fear, and fright;
Only a black cloak, and ancient book is seen in sight.
Prepare for the haunting of Grim Reaperís Night.
An ancient story is told across the land,
It travels from each wavering hand,
To the next hand in which the story is told --
The story of Grim Reaperís Night.
Satanists await this day,
Christians look at it with dismay.
An international event with different plays.
The plays that come on the day full of dismay that Is --
Grim Reaperís Night.
The climax of the story --
The story that is with little morality.
The story of the day that brought horror to humankind.
Events spoke of that the dead had arose.
This is known of the events of Grim Reaperís Night
This will do for now. More to come if people actually read my poems.
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