Compilation - Learning from my past inner poet
Angel
Heavily the cold mists fall
Through darkness that embraces
Through the night fall hollow tears
Which harsh silence encases
A bitter wind sings unheard tunes
And Satan's hymns retraces
The unseen dark side of the moon
Conceals its many faces
As an angel passes gravestones
Trying to hide her many faces
I do actually like at least the rhyming pattern on this one. Probably something I could re-work into a semi-tolerable poem today.
If You Could Find A Shovel
If you could find a shovel
And dig into my soul
You'd find my buried memories
And secrets never told.
If you could use a telescope
To look into my eyes
They'd lead you down a tunnel
Built from deception and lies.
If you could use a mirror
To reflect the way I feel
You'd see doubt, fear, and anger
From wounds that never healed.
If you could find an instrument
To probe into my thoughts
I'd be thinking of the bloodshed
From personal wars I've fought.
So I found myself a shovel
And I buried my own soul
And behind this mask I hide
From the secrets never told.
This one is awful, no two ways around it. What I learned: I love how it comes full-circle in the end.
Untitled I
Blood like ice
Frozen to a burning blade
Scorch my skin
And save me from the daylight as it fades
For with it goes
The heat of burning sin
But with it dies
The fire of the life that's held within
In spite of the cliche of it, kind of like the rhythm to this, and how it steadily changes between three different kinds of syllable emphasis patterns.
Untitled II
And if I lay there screaming,
Could you hear the crimson lies?
And if I lay there bleeding,
Could you see the crimson lies?
And if I die tomorrow,
Frozen blood on concrete floor--
If I drown in bloody sorrow,
Would you care what came before?
This one's almost painful in its angsty cliche. I would like the last four lines, if it hadn't been for the use of the word "blood" twice within such a short span of words.
Heavily the cold mists fall
Through darkness that embraces
Through the night fall hollow tears
Which harsh silence encases
A bitter wind sings unheard tunes
And Satan's hymns retraces
The unseen dark side of the moon
Conceals its many faces
As an angel passes gravestones
Trying to hide her many faces
I do actually like at least the rhyming pattern on this one. Probably something I could re-work into a semi-tolerable poem today.
If You Could Find A Shovel
If you could find a shovel
And dig into my soul
You'd find my buried memories
And secrets never told.
If you could use a telescope
To look into my eyes
They'd lead you down a tunnel
Built from deception and lies.
If you could use a mirror
To reflect the way I feel
You'd see doubt, fear, and anger
From wounds that never healed.
If you could find an instrument
To probe into my thoughts
I'd be thinking of the bloodshed
From personal wars I've fought.
So I found myself a shovel
And I buried my own soul
And behind this mask I hide
From the secrets never told.
This one is awful, no two ways around it. What I learned: I love how it comes full-circle in the end.
Untitled I
Blood like ice
Frozen to a burning blade
Scorch my skin
And save me from the daylight as it fades
For with it goes
The heat of burning sin
But with it dies
The fire of the life that's held within
In spite of the cliche of it, kind of like the rhythm to this, and how it steadily changes between three different kinds of syllable emphasis patterns.
Untitled II
And if I lay there screaming,
Could you hear the crimson lies?
And if I lay there bleeding,
Could you see the crimson lies?
And if I die tomorrow,
Frozen blood on concrete floor--
If I drown in bloody sorrow,
Would you care what came before?
This one's almost painful in its angsty cliche. I would like the last four lines, if it hadn't been for the use of the word "blood" twice within such a short span of words.