Hey, i write a lot of poetry but i'm just gonna post a few here. If you like them check out my poetry blog where i post all my poetry: Lerfish's Blog Enjoy. Times Of The Old \t\t\t\t\tThe jaws of the battlefield Are laden with regret. The place where your day starts and ends Is a comfortable place, Yet in reality just another object. Delicate hands soften her presence But too much of her company Can drive you completely insane. Ears tuned with intensity Hear absolute silence, The brain stuck on contentedness Was unable to dream. The spirit of the journey Was always quite beautiful, But the deadliest alive. The radiant cylindrical halls Enhance every beauty, The repetitive little kicks Are all that keep you going. Fiction based characters Always made you wonder. Synchronized appearances struck once again. \t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t Delta, Delta, Kilo \t\t\t\t\tSo technology failed, it had its reign It brought us pleasure but much more pain. So your feign opinions can consume you As shall I with these fumes who Shout and scream emotions I can't feel. “It's chaos, it's madness, Absurd!â€, They protest, I jest, you never heard My voice in that crowd. That loud, Annoying and seemingly distant shroud. It calls you, it beckons, but you being you, You second guess and I reckon you're Right. I know, I've been there, it's Bright but it's deceitful, it's a seat full Of rags and hair, smelling of beers and tears. I look at where I am, On this land of confusion, People around me dig their heads in the sand. I know it's no better, And I considered your letter But I'd rather be conscious Than lost in this anxious fear you describe. Please do not hide me, But don't flaunt me, That haunts me! Maybe the mountain shall Be my glass fountain, I'll Follow this morrow all the way to the peak. When i reached a flat spot the bleakness Departed. My heart built a shelter Which became my delta, my delta, my kilo. The ledge was my hero, the trees were my death; I had thought them my friends until they stole my breath. \t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t When Cyclops Run The Town Swear that cyclops run this town, When the psychics see it coming. Little is left to salvage from The smoking blackened houses. A cold look. There. A lost one there. Looks from all around. Stumble here. And stumble there. The ground is cluttered with debris, But sunshine weeps upon the ground And from it grow new houses. New work and love make everything work just fine and dandy, the cyclops fall and once again the good guys rule the psychics. But slowly good guys rise above and create the existence of classes. No good guys left. Just idle men watching at their windows. Waiting, watching, looking for their neighbours stealing crops. Then all at once the neighbour cries as men they knew become beasts. “Off to jail, the man has sinned!†the cyclops' chant as one. And then the buildings re-emerge and the psychics are consulted. Then embers catch a gust of wind And flames disperse onto the streets. The houses burn to ashes fast and there is nothing left to salvage. Hope you enjoyed, i may post more depending on the reaction i get, as i say, feel free to browse my blog though: Lerfish's Blog Spread the word. Cheers, Luke
Really? i don't remember posting on anyones facebook, heh, cool stuff though, i'm glad you enjoyed but not quite sure what you mean by too real :/ Thanks for reading