|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
From all the things that have crashed into me at ninety miles per hour in a fifty five zone
A little sane
A little sound
From all the realizations my brain has somehow managed to make in the past forty-eight hours
In such little time.
whoever said being strong was easyI am overall unsure
As to how I am still standing
As to how there are not tears free-falling from my oh so tired eyes
As to how my heart is not giving out from all the news-
The 911 calls in the middle of the night
The sobs ripping from their chests at the wee hours of dawn
The screams echoing down the halls...
Lack ThereofThere were a lot of things I never said to you
But; it wasn’t because I was afraid of how you’d react
Okay, never mind, maybe that was part of it
Yes, that was a big part of it
But; I was mostly afraid of how you wouldn’t react.
While The Moon Watches Over MeI want someone to sleep with
Literal sleep, not the sexual kind of “sleep with” which obviously implies sex
No, I just want arms to gently hold me while I rest.
Some Days I Can't Even...My mantra
It could always be worse
It can always get worse
No longer keeps the panic at bay
My tears are no longer invisible; I cannot hold them back
My wails are no longer silent; but I drown them out with Of Monsters && Men on my stereo.
and it's so much worse when you deny itI’m constantly surprised-
Gasted beyond flabber-
At how selfish people are sometimes-
How they don’t care to learn anything new if it will not benefit them instantly
How they don’t care to care for anyone else.
FragmentationIn my time of need
Would you be there to share my insanity?
In my time of need
Would you be willing to sacrifice?
In my time of need
Would you sit down with me through all the hell?
Or in my time of need-
If I would be dead to you.
Children of NightShatter the darkness
Into tiny pieces of black velvet
And spread it across the star covered night sky
As we dream amnesia dreams
And live insomnia nightmares
Lit a candle for all the broken people
And lets paint the night with scarlet tears
Like a crimson paintbrush
Dripping blood upon a broken canvas
Let broken wings become our strength
Addicted to such beautiful disasters
So we can fall before we fly
And burn before we die
And maybe our skin-deep wounds won't heal
But then we'll let them bleed
And carry the moon within our womb
To show this sick and pretty world
That we aren't choking
We are the children of the night
Beautiful and broken
False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen
The Iron MirrorSociety needed a monster on which to blame it's flaws,
They ended creating a nightmare which fed on their laws,
A mirrored reflection of their hate that gave it back double,
No morals, no name, an empty shell with eyes apparently humble.
A smile made for the sole purpose of conquering trust,
Eyes inspiring safety, a mere veil for the blood-lust,
Feared for the thoughts and words that he spoke,
A three meters distance was kept from him since he awoke.
Feel the sorrow of the solitude of the monster,
Accept his pain as he becomes even angrier.
"The name proves nothing, nor does my faith,
I will break your bones just simply to bathe
in the blood of the ones that have created me.
The nightmare in the iron mirror you will all see."
SimplicityWe are nothing more than putrid piles of hypocrisy
Searching for comfort, satisfaction and pity,
Our steel dogmas are fragile as our bones
I assure you that we get hurt as much with words as with stones.
We are shadows of our former selves that try to live
But in the end we realize that we have not much to give,
To give ourselves and to others, we are weak and strong,
Strong because of our ideas even though that normally they are wrong.
We tell other to keep strong and go on
When we are the ones that are blocked by the simplest loan.
Pull your act together,
Or simply disappear and accept life, forever.
Psychotic ramblingsI, in the eternal void rest,
Am the unwanted thirteenth guest,
Insane, deranged and psychotic,
There are people who even call me sick.
Isn't it joyful and greedy to demand
A sacrifice of strangulation at the reach of the hand?
Cure the poisoned in a prison built of mental sand.
Murder is the solution brought by the resolution.
Is this the final, one and only conclusion?
Better think again, there will be no retribution.
Death is not the liberation, just the beginning.
Is there eternal peace? The solution is sinning.
Unacceptable lies become the truth, the chaos keeps spinning.
CradlingI lay my swan heart
in a nest of feather fluff;
sanguine, sweet and soft.
I lay my swan heart
in a frame not strong enough
to keep my love aloft.
Circus: The FunambulanceWalking the tripwire
between not glorifying suicide
and not patronising people
with the lie; I would never
- I suck in my nausea and fight
not to close my eyes as I
vulnerable and afraid
in front of my tenderhucked audience.
Their eyes pluck out
and give an attentive
standing ovation as I exhale
and stagger forward
- a shout,
a fall -
and for a moment
I wonder if there is
a safety net there for me at all,
and if my devoted audience
would prefer to see my
neck//shatter on stage.
The Kind of GirlI’m the girl who swallows bullets
And paints petrol over stars,
I’m a girl that sits atop the moon
And hopes she’s gone too far,
This kind of girl screams love letters
She dreams in black and white,
The kind of girl who runs in orbit
In the poetry of nights.
I'm the kind of girl who laughs at pain
A girl to hurt and love,
I'm the kind of girl who tries too much
A vision in the dirt.
© 2013 themagpiepoet
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More