Burning

Sitting Hearts

Folder: 
My Everything

We sat like strangers

The largest valley

Between two mountains

A slow deep breath

A back yard alley

A passage of soft hearts

 

Like a flower, bloom

A twisting refining notion

That the foliage within

Never dwindles among men

 

So with the silence; bound

There are countless

Verses unspoken

A slow deep look

A burning mess

A road of genuine hearts

 

Like a flower, bloom

A twisting refining notion

That the foliage within

Never dwindles among men

 

We sat like strangers

The largest illusion

Among the world

A soundless adoration

A grand prelusion

A path of rebel hearts

 

Like a flower, bloom

A twisting refining notion

That the foliage within

Never dwindles among men

 

 

 

 

Many Burning Candles

Folder: 
Positive Thought

Many Burning Candles 

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Many burning candles

side by side

become soon

one flame


-saiom shriver-

 

 

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"The Demons of Man"

I fabricate skyscrapers, piercing the heavens with chrome blades.

I see a world of fire: combusting, incinerating, devouring.

Silence.

The valleys burn red with blood stained spades,

The universe watching discreetly, towering.

Violence.

 

The demons of man ignite the skylines as day bleeds to night,

The structures emitting a silent roar as the stars lay breathless.

Destruction.

The avenues inhale kerosene, reflecting red light,

The cities burn to ash, dying, defenseless.

Reduction.

 

As the aggregation of starlight coats our landscape with a luminous glare,

The ruins of a million memories electrify the skies.

Dissolving.

The fires burn out as the moon is relieved of its empowering stare,

The once amplified street pinned under its arbitrary demise.

Devolving.

 

Once upon a time, when man walked with man,

I stared in the eyes of a world worth living.

Perfection.

I watched as it twisted, tore, became a cancerous scan;

Mankind destroying itself, relentless, unforgiving.

Deception.

 

As I walk under a sun that illuminates a planet encased in sorrow,

Tears fall parallel to light rays.

As clouds float in a boundless ocean, awaiting tomorrow,

I continue roaming, a stranger, in a world astray.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Let me know what you think.

Perfection

Perfection doesn't always last.
We may wish it did,
but that's not how life works.
It's like a wick burning outside.
So luminescent,
so pure.
As life goes on,
the winds pick up,
unexpected changes occur.
Might go out,
might not.
Just Depends how strong it is.