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Run Away (While There's Time)
You keep tossing pebbles
into the pond of my soul
ignoring the danger that act represents,
forgetting how I have nothing to lose...
Let me remind you:
innocence was never rewarded with anything
and the day might come,
when I will ask you
to receive white vipers of my love
into the crimson depths of your heart...
Do not tempt me...
you are of no match
to the power of abyss I carry.
Even without intention, I could crush you
like collected petals
of the sacred flowers
Run away as far as you can,
while there's still time
and give yourself the advantage
while that is still possible.
Because, one of these days I'll come after
and then you will not escape...
Run away and maybe,
there's still a chance
to disappear in the layers of my memory
and evade the chains of my love.
It is murder of the soul
what you would at first call a romance,
and only tomb awaits the one who dares
lifting the dark veil off my face.
it just slipped through my fingers
spilling from the broken container
like the blood from a broken heart
and it took a piece of who I am with it...
Down, down to hell went that part,
Clear, it dripped on the floor
and was soaked up by the boards,
together with the echoes
of my cries...
Frustration and anger and despair
mixing with the tears running down,
wrapping as one into these liquid pearls
soon following the path and disappearing,
but burning, scorching the flesh
scarring the marks on my skin, on my face,
wherever they traced,
turning it into a map of pain...
We should not suffer for what we can't regain
but tell it to the broken soul?
Tell it, while it shudders between its weak walls,
knowing it could have been different,
it should have been different,
but will never be different, anymore...
Dark ShoresIt is the night,
when the dark tides will rise
and the waves will carry me
far, far away...
on the tar painted waves,
with crimson crests,
under the pale shine
of cold skull moon...
In boat of bones,
I’ll travel alone
and hear no call
or cry from back home
on the alabaster bed
with black silk softly
covering my head…
On the silent sea,
in silent night,
following the path
of extinguished lights,
over the water,
to lands unknown
I’ll travel in dark,
to some distant shores…
Dark LullabySleep now, sweet child...
sleep deeply and with no sound.
Your time is over now
and all the pains are gone, all the grains of sand
in your hourglass,
are now long lost through the gaps of time...
Sleep now, dear love,
don't steer in your dreams...
Don't fret, don't moan
don't whisper strange words, odd names...
Your time is gone,
and these are the moments of peace...
Sleep now, pale prince
sleep with no shadows over your face.
Nothing will disturb your slumber in this place
not a scent, nor a sound, not a heartbeat...
Sleep now, forever and a day
on the alabaster stone, under the silken veils
sleep with no move or breath...
This is the time of your rest.
It is time to forget.
Lullaby for the LostSleep tight, pale prince,
night has you...
and all the stars now cry your name
There will be no more tomorrows,
but all your yesterdays will still shine,
like diamonds in the dust.
Sleep tight, sweet love...
and the dark has claimed you,
once and for all.
Don't stir, but lie in peace,
in the eternal slumber.
Your dreams will be painted
in crimson and gold.
Painted in AutumnEmpty,
in this house of smashed windows,
she lies on the old, pine floor
and half-listens to the lullaby
weaved by the endless sorrow.
All her tears are hanging in the air,
just like pearls
and the silence wraps her tightly
like a veil.
painted in the blue and gold
of the late autumn afternoon.
There, she stays,
trapped in the glitter
of the spider webs and mist,
shined by the ailing sun.
but does she lives or has she ever lived,
no one knows.
Crucified by dreams,
this cracked china doll is waiting
for the tenebrous night to fall.
Young LoveI was so young
when I first heard
the beats of my heart
pulse lightly upon my ribcage
My toothpick bones,
to the powerful palpitations
And I was still young
when I heard again
the throbs of my heart
pound forcefully upon my ribcage
My metal bar bones,
to the butterfly-wing beats
So you better hurry, boy
as my ribs are becoming
thick as steel
and you’ll soon need a metal cutter
to reach my heart
(And I don’t want to become damaged in the process of being loved).
how to love a girl who can't love herself.get lost under the sun, then
fight the break of dawn.
i am nothing in the dark,
so show me
walk with me,
to the secret place
where i met you
(those turquoise city dreams)
when the sun goes down,
when the moon shines,
(girl of the ocean, let's go
somewhere only we know.)
please, i beg you.
winter me gently, because the earth laughs in flowers, and
red red roses, they're so beautifully
from the back of my throat, i promisethe world is made of talking trees and cloudy water,
and the way you look at me
i'm no artist but i think i've painted your voice at the base of my neck
it's not something you can come back from
and tomorrow won't be a victory any more than it will be a loss
they don't make maps for a place like thisI'm stuck somewhere
between great rollings hills
and a sweet-calm sea,
but the air doesn't smell
of salt or dandelions.
Only this heavy
cloying breeze that sticks
in my throat and fills
my lungs with the sharp tang
of musk and pine
reminds me that I'm
not far from home. And
in the distance there
is a rolling clamor;
a whistle crying long and low.
But there are no signs,
Though I've wandered days
through this strange
traipsing across smooth plains
and sharp plateaus, I've
never crossed the
same path twice...
One thought rings true in
this foreign land:
dear, don't be alarmed
I only lose my bearings so thoroughly,
only become so
What Shall He Be?Oh what shall he be - the one to steal my heart?
Many a man is there in this vast world,
But what sort should I desire?
My sisters have oft said to see him in my thoughts.
To know him there and appease my dreams.
I am slow to act, for what reality could compare to a woman's dream?
But, alas, I do believe
That even I find myself dreaming of him now and again.
And so you ask, what sort of man is he?
Well listen close, for here I shall tell of what sort he would be:
He should be tall and graceful, elegant and fair;
With sweet golden locks of his curly hair.
And have blue eyes that sparkle in the light
Of the sun, bright, as does his smile shine.
His tender words and gentle touch
Would so sooth my heart and troubled mind.
His strong arms would hold me fast in the darkest nights
And chase away my fears 'til dawn.
His sweet lips would kiss me tenderly, lovingly just so.
He would have a heart of pure gold, and be loyal and good.
And looking into his eyes, he would see my soul
And I, giving my
Sleeping VolcanoWhen you kiss me
thousand little needles
pierce my skin
delight and pain
both burning calmly
like sleeping volcano
slowly consumed by
heat and fire
and I bleed
poison and nectar
embraced by your need
and even if
we grow distant and old
fire burns out and lava turns to stone
my blood keeps
screaming for your lips
I won't forgetI will always remember
you quietly waiting in the corridors
and opening doors for me to pass through
you drifting in and out of office spaces
and as we walked with matching paces
your smile would quietly etch itself into my memories
of what we were when we were not together.
I will always remember the feelings I wanted to forget
as I walked the limits of darkness every night,
my loneliness like a silhouette
that knew no respite
from the resounding cries
of the kookaburras in the trees
weeping for the heart that wanted to be free
to be with the you
who could not be with me.
I will always remember the voice inside my head
uttering a love that could not be said
across the oceans and the miles
that stretched like a chasm before us
but it was never a distance we did not surmount--
each night a transgression of space and time,
a compression of our imaginations and our minds.
I will never forget these slivers of a past
that used to haunt us with the pain of our non-existence
in a reality we'd
BlackHe was nothing
but a puff of dark smoke
rising from the burned heart.
An image in charcoal dust
drawn over the parchment of soul
in wide, dusty strokes,
sealed with the bitter honey,
smeared with the last kiss...
He was an orphaned whisper
in an empty room
and the long gone butterfly's empty cocoon,
rustling in the wind, abandoned.
Only a shadow of desperate deepness,
fragment of the dark void left behind the death of a star,
last image fleeing from the tear-blinded eyes...
he was a figment of love and lost.
Dyed in pain,
buried with the mothballs, deep
into the box of broken screams...
He was only a shutter of dream,
once dreamt, then painted in the shades of twilight.
Forgotten, broken and nailed to the past...
But still shaping the tears, running from her eyes,
he stained the streams with ink...
and they drowned the world in black.
Infinitely, irrevocably black...
Maylar © 2012
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More