Auckland Poetry.com

Taste remorse bleeding from my lips,
Feel the pain of my dreams unleashed.
Shooting stars struggle to eclipse
One last flash of a perfect wish.

Make the way with me,
Help my spirit flee,
Set my soul free,
It is smothered.
Let me find my place
In this tempting haze,
In the night’s embrace,
I am bothered.

Hear the sounds, deafened sounds
Of reveries’ lullabies,
As I reach spaceless bounds
Of welcoming purple skies.
Yes, I live just this way,
But it’s an illusion, fake,
And I curse the damned day
That finds me to wake me.

Trapped by the truth,
I curse its majesty,
Dreams of my youth
Lose sense of gravity.

I’m not sane, not mad,
Not alive, not dead,
Shades of past regret
Haunt me farther.
I am straying blind
With my truth denied
On the other side
From the others.

Hear muffled sounds, deafened sounds
Of reveries’ lullabies,
As I reach spaceless bounds
Of welcoming purple skies.
Yes, I live just this way,
But it’s an illusion, fake,
And I curse the damned day
That finds me to wake me.

Quelling silent screams,
All alone,
Listing paper dreams
On my own,
I am sick of this
Absurdism,
what’s the way it is?
Escapism!

Dreams are all shattered,
What could be worse?
Doom of the life in fetter,
Filled with the same remorse.

Fight or surrender?
Shield or defender?
I’m helpless at anything.
Thoughts of despair
Twirl in the air.
I’m losing my everything.

Hear muffled sounds, deafened sounds
Of reveries’ lullabies,
As I reach spaceless bounds
Of welcoming purple skies.
Yes, I live just this way,
But it’s an illusion, fake,
And I curse the damned day
That finds me to wake me.

You detest me. The reason is clear,
And your welcome is always so cold,
But the core of my perfect idea
Has been stolen by the whole
Heartless cruel rotten world.

You all promptly discovered the sense of surviving
And at last started thinking what means to be free.
Full of envy, consumed with mixed feelings, you’re striving
For quite shallow things in the same way as me.
You are trying to open my eyes
To my being the core of the vice,
And you all are as pure as spring morning skies.

I don’t care what you think,
Curse me, things will still get better,
Go on, and I will sing
Of the happenings that matter.

Please believe nor my laughs nor my tears,
Like I never believe what you say.
My true muse will be straying for years
After one unlucky chain
Of the same exhausting days.

You are lively discussing your sides of the story,
Do you find it a pleasure to dig tons of muck?
You have nothing to do with my grief or my glory,
Or a lot of misfortunes of ultimate luck.
You are looking at me with eyes green,
But my eyes are still pure marine
And will stay so regardless the scenes I have seen.

I don’t care what you think,
Curse me, things will still get better,
Go on, and I will sing
Of the happenings that matter.