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Resides in the Shadows,
Barred from the perfect partner to engage,
Forbidden to intertwine,
Why does selfish exist?
If only composed to destroy,
Erradicate love,
Exterminate bonds,
From this reveals of emotion's such as love that illusions truly do exist,
Honestly situated within us,
Warping every emotion we trust until deformation becomes realism,
Change without consent entirely inside,
Charring the interior with shattered memories, and a conscious irreparable
Does humanities malleability completely rest in the grip of relations?
Whether they include adultery being irrelevant,
For a life excluding social aspects,
Implies accepting an agreement for lonely departure,
Gliding down into the lonely depths..
Flying towards the bright lights,
Unaware of lost desires,
Focusing only on escape,
For that is all that remains,
And all that ever will.
Consumed.
A different individual finds herself lost,
Beautiful in essence, a face grazing the title of artistically shaped,
Intoxicating peers with the potency of such a wonderful personality,
Intelligence to compliment such amazing aspects,
Witty,
Cunning,
Perfection known to so many.. found in one person,
How had she done it?
Why was she there? Out of place?
Having wandered into an area not commonly known,
Intrigued, a risk is introduced and taken,
A method of escape will be allowed only if the task is fulfilled,
Simple enough,
True love.
Spectated as if it this were a game,
Betting on the odds of whether she would make it or not,
The divine entities chortled at the girl's expense,
Hoping truly that she would not complete the job laid out for her,
How?
A tier once familiar with their misfortune now seemingly misplaces a common compassion,
Loses the taste for sharing defeat,
Living through it,
Surviving it..
Shameful.
Venturing further into descent, the young lady falters many a time,
Her attempts at finding that person,
Abysmal,
Until,
When yet another generic day passes by,
She becomes the acquaintance of one taken with at immediate introductions,
Hopeful.
He is ever polite,
His innocence could be exploited as weakness,
And this boy has no taste for what the real world can do to a wandering soul,
One thing comes to mind,
Almost in unison,
I like.
Intimacy is shared,
Love infested wording,
The notion of true love dances around both thoughts,
But with the mind of innocence,
Comes the provocation of appealing seduction,
And with no time at all,
A strong love was wrecked,
And composed anew in the hands of a different couple,
Leaving the young lady heartbroken,
Descending yet again,
An objective assigned,
Now incomplete.
It is not over for her though,
She will now defy those who seek entertainment out of defeat,
No pain will be shown,
Not a speck of agony will be visible,
It will all be bottled up,
The cork to seal her becoming pressured with the negativity she knows,
As if a coconut would be if it were overloaded with taffie..
Ready to explode with even the slightest external source of descent,
How I have come to expect more than what I`ve seen,
A watchful eye, easing her pain when I can,
But when I learn that she is trying her hardest,
And I am merely antagonizing her with my expectations,
I experience pain myself,
On her behalf,
How I have learned..
Possibly one day,
I will be able to aquire consent,
Solve the puzzle,
Open the coconut,
And share the many pieces of taffie with her.
How delicious it would taste,
To feast on her negativity,
Until it is all gone.
Whether the experience will guide her from the depths is beyond foresight,
But regardless,
I will always be by her side,
To guide her through,
Back to the darkness,
And from the light,
Finally, returning her to where she belongs..
Next to the love she has been seeking this whole time,
Able to live by those long years in bliss,
Smitten as a kitten.
- Title: Ashy
- Artist: Asve
- Description: A poem written for someone I care about.
- Date: 11/17/2011
- Tags: coconut taffie love friendship gaia
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Comments (1 Comments)
- pariah-kid - 01/19/2012
- The language is beautiful, but there's too much here. Try and split it up into sub-poems, almost. You can write a really long poem, but this is too long to be all grouped together. Organization is always important. The individual ideas are great though, I like it a lot.
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