A Real Horrorshow Time by LittleStarKid, literature
Literature
A Real Horrorshow Time
Torch to torch to scorch and scorch
for fire's hot and can't be burned
the blaze conflates though nothing's learned.
Glazz for glazz, death for death
the body pile plentieth,
walk upon each others necks
to strain and break those chellovecks.
Then elephantly stomp them off
like cal that simply just won't doff.
Who be thou? No droog to me
thou didst sin so unto thee
I cause the same calamity!
Instead of sin I take a bow
(in)justice of a coward cow.
Relieve them of their right to be
burdened with morality;
normality...? And so we say-
let them decay
and let them fear
but never ever let them near.
No brother true, though dying too
transparent as
the pen and the sword by thebalefulprimal, literature
Literature
the pen and the sword
betwixt the eye of the storm and the shorelines of paradise
the sand of a thousand dreams gently casts its net
its caster fixed with a golden crown of hopes
and none of these are unreachable,
and none of these are lies,
what was once a wall is now a lean-to
it is not difficult to overcome,
but rather making the decision to do so
thrice the lines have made themselves known
don't leave them calling back
Intricate lines wrought
From your mind to mine
My delicate simplicity
A smattering of roses and tears
Finding comfort in each other
Familiarity in our works
Friendly affection
And so much patience
For each others forgetfulness
You are the one I turn to
For advice when no one listens
Always a hug to spare
Warm thoughts and a cup of tea
For you I wish
You'll have many more years of laughter
Of joy and friendly banter
No harm may come your way
I'll share with you the light I have
When all else might be dark
With open arms and an open mind
We both will speak and listen
And may you write
All those intricate lines
Reach into hearts and minds
do you dream of the way your hands sing, soft as violins, vivid & wild?
do you wake up to the sun playing hopscotch on your floor?
knowing all of this is yours, all of this is you:
glimmering and golden,
the heart of july.
and so i can only call you summer child
and nothing else anymore, nothing less than that - nothing less lively
than the wild of summer, amalgam of burning and dark, the nurture and scorch, resurrection in rain,
the sound of wind swaying grass
soft as violins.
do you sink into warmth like water and remember yourself? swimming lily,
swan-necked, storm-eyed, precious
enough to turn rain into pearls, days into poetry.
sho