[x]

The Black RoseIn between such delicate fingertips;
She holds the blackest of roses,
And the dark petals brush her lips.
Her sombre shadow across her face,
Describes the bleakest of life's loses.

Such sweet scent floating in the air;
She breathes in the aroma of the black rose,
That scarlet stem entwines in her raven hair.
Her enchanting eyes are but a glaze,
Those wells of happiness have all but froze.

Thorns of iron dig into her soft skin;
She screams from the pain of that bloody rose,
With it's intoxication of simplistic sin.
Her haunting presence brings haste,
To a silence of a death nearing close.

Spiralling To InsanityI'm sorry if what I say,
Might cause you to feel down.
It's just that I'm having a depressing day,
And all I can think of is the photos of the past,
Knowing that I cannot makes the memories last.

I'm sorry if I'm looking morose,
While you sit there analysing my face.
It's just that I'm having a nightmare tonight,
Revelling in all the paintings of the present,
Forever falling into another dismal descent.

I'm sorry if I cause you pain,
Inside your heart that loves me so.
It's just that I'm having a torturous time,
Being plagued by the sketches of my sanity,
Even though I'll induce the effects of insanity.

Death SongTake heed and witness,
Devastation and annihilation,
Of our darkest dreams drowning in sickness.
You know it isn't just a chaotic commotion,
When desires are constructs of diabolical devotion.

But you will suffer as one,
Caught in a twisted trap all alone,
With your soul set in stone.
Watch as you burn your heart,
And listen as you tear your flesh apart!

Take heed and witness,
Suffering and damning,
In our ethereal eyes echoing in blackness.
You know it isn't just a manic mourning,
When dreams are martyrs of passive pleading.

But you will suffer as one,
Caught in a twisted trap all alone,
With your soul set in stone,
Taste t

The Hardest WordTo say goodbye,
It's not the hardest word.
My honesty is all but broken,
And I look away with eyes so blue,
I cannot say with these tears I cry.

To say sorry,
It's not the hardest word.
My ignorance only leaves you shattered,
And I know in my heart so black,
I should apologise but I'd rather fly.

To say no,
It's not the hardest word.
My addiction drives you insane,
And I feel that my ears bleed so red,
As I struggle to answer your one question: why?

The Weeping AngelShe holds her head in her hands,
Never breathing or blinking.
She is a morbid master of the sands,
Of time that terrorises your torment:
Gaze upon her vile visage and away you go.

She stands alone in such grace,
Never talking or thinking.
She has her elusive eyes on your face,
Of innocence that isolates your idiocy:
Look at her sinister snarl and you'll depart too.

She watches you with utter patience,
Never whistling or winking.
She'll turn lights low in her defence,
Of malevolence that murders your mind:
Stare out to her granite guise and forget all you know.

UntitledPaper stained with whiskey and tears
I write away another lonely night
How I despise this feeling
A strong desire for intimacy
Yet I know it will never be mine
Murder my senses and lay the remains bare
I've had enough.

SimplicityI only need to close my eyes,
And your by my side.
I could stare up at the starry skies,
Nothing could kill my love for you,
Yet my heart I will never hide.

I only need to hear your voice,
To wake from my despair.
I'd never lose this dream-like daze,
Everyday I will always be around,
A friendly face that will always care.

I only need to know your smile,
For me to start the day again.
I'll walk until my feet hurt for awhile,
But I'll continue on under the moon,
Because knowing you stops the pain.

Self-Righteous SuicideUnder pistol pressure of my mind,
I've been forsaken by all I know,
And I shoot. Bang!
Just watch me slam into the scarlet flow,
Letting me drift away to my dark dream.

Under weary weight of my soul,
I've given up on all I believe,
And I cry. Damn!
But I still breathe to my black relief,
Purging the gasps of that sanguine scream.

Under choking conscience of my heart,
I've taken on all I can suffer,
And I explode. Boom!
This suicide of mine is not a crimson offer,
Relinquishing that current of a silver stream.

Never AgainNever again is what she said
Never again would it occur
As she sat alone and bled
None had hands to offer
Out of compassion or out of pity
She sat like a lonesome mourner
All alone in the cruel city
In a cold and dirty corner

Never again is what she said
Never again would it occur
Looking paler than the dead
Sitting alone on life's border
Pretty eyes reddened by tears
Pale skin reddened by blood
As she reminisced all her fears
Alone on the cruel city mud

Never again is what she said
Never again would it occur
Bathed in her blood so red
When finally found by mother
Pale skin reddened by a final kiss
Before the lid shut tig

The Angel Who Fell From HeavenThere was an angel of the honest skies,
Who's white wings were struck,
By the lashes of lightning cries.
She fell from above into earthly muck,
To the wistful wonder of two youths of yore.

With her face in distress of her plight,
She took two feathers of fire,
And gouged out her eyes of eternal light.
In the dirt this heavenly being did tire,
Until she was awoken by the prodding of paws.

Two days rolled past her corrupted visage,
As meek mortals tended to her pain,
To the dismay of the denizen's rage.
In tears this being of beauty tried in vain,
To call out for help from her blood brethren.

For a month and a day she did heal,

The Victim of SmilesYou see me now,
A victim of a hundred worthless smiles.
False faces I've seen before,
Never realising the pity I know,
Until they've succumbed to all their petty lies.

You see me now,
A victim of a thousand gentle sighs.
Misery masks hidden from afar,
Forever locked in this insanity war,
Now they drown under a swarm of flies.

You see me now,
A victim of a million pointless stares.
Eccentric eyes of hope is all I convey,
Ever to believe in those games they play,
But here am I tearing out these pale hairs.

Dream EscapeI wish I could dream again,
To forget my screams of pain.
In this house of the insane,
But here in this hell I must remain,
Never to survive in a sanctum of the sane.

I wish I could dream today,
To remember my memories of May.
Of a time before I could betray,
Yet now in this terror I cannot say,
Never to perish in a parody of a play.

I wish I could dream in death,
To relive my function of breath.
Until I call: it'll be tough,
Then I'll come back to what's left,
Forever to return to a reality so rough.

UndergroundI feel cold creeping hands,
Dragging me down,
Into the fires of the underground.
All I hear is the screeching sound,
Of heroes wearing funeral frowns.

I feel warm probing fingers,
Across my skin,
And my, how they seem to linger.
I'm petrified of this demonic danger,
Of seraphim pretending to sin

I feel hot sweating palms,
Touching my face,
Brushing across lips as I stay calm.
Now I fear they'll sense my alarm,
Of angels insulting grace.

What Happened...What happened to you,
What happened to me,
Is something no one will ever see.
Don't go and leave me behind,
You'll only drive me blind.

What happened to me,
What happened to you,
Is more than the love of a fool.
Don't leave and go away,
I'll only miss you more each day.

What happened to us,
What happened to them,
Is nothing but an ignorant dream.
Don't run away from the pain,
We'll find bliss: I hope again.

The Beautiful PeopleI try to meet up.
I try so so hard.
Lotions and potions.
Creams and cuts.
Brushes and dabbing.
But it's never enough.
I feel below them.
But I want to be with them.
I hate them with all my love.
How I want to be like them.
They get all the attention.
They get all the love.
People throw it at them
And they beg for it like starving children.
I hate their faces.
But I want one like it.
They
Are
Everywhere
But I am of some sorts glad...
I am not one of them.
For their souls are rotted like spoiled fruit.
Kindness? None
Love? None.
Sympathy? None
They hide behind the pretty mask
That I wish resembled me.
But I Still.
Will Always.
Hate Them.
I just wish I was stronger than them

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More from ~NemoX7

RestartI'm going round in circles,
Always ending up at the start.
I've seen this place too many times,
And it creates a hole in my heart,
As I know I'm back where I began.

I think this is a no-go road,
So I guess I must reverse to restart.
I've been in this situation before,
And I feel like I've been struck by a dart,
As I admit it happens again and again.

I don't know where to go,
Or whether I will reach my destination.
I mean I cannot win in this way,
And I am mocked for my procrastination,
As I set off down this labyrinthine lane.

Rarity In RhymeRarity is like a rose,
It's a secret to be found,
But it's always under your nose.
It may make no sound,
Nor can you see it: I suppose.

Rarity is like the rain,
It's hidden all the same,
As it comes down again and again.
It may have no name,
But finding it will drive you insane.

Rarity is like a rhyme,
It's somewhere between the lines,
Yet it'll vanish in the passage of time.
It may show no signs,
Just that spark it wields so sublime.

What Is A Poem?What is a poem?
I don't know to be fair,
And honestly I don't care.
Does the words need to rhyme?
To keep the beat in my mind on the line.

What is a poem?
It comes from the heart,
And it comes from the soul,
But is enlightenment the goal?
Or do the verses stand the test of time?

What is a poem?
It's difficult to find an answer,
To a question that seems simple.
Is it the structure or the course;
Of ponderous words spread out on a page?

NirvanaIn a state of beautiful bliss,
I lie awake on a field of fortitude,
Yet I know peace can't always exist.
Wishing to close these empty eyes,
Under darkening dream-like skies.

In my mind of perpetual pleasure,
I fall asleep in an air of aptitude,
But this feeling is akin to a seizure.
Dying to shut off this myopic mind,
Before succumbing to a whispering wind.

In my soul of helpless harmony,
I pass away on a sea of solitude,
Is this emotion the one and only?
Living to breath through a lover's lips,
After resisting those flaming whips.

CursedI lack the will to progress,
And I can't take it anymore.
The meaning of my life is a mess,
And I want back the life I had before,
Even though I'm cursed: this is I confess.

I lack the drive to survive,
And I can no longer win.
My reason to live needs to revive,
For my pitiful procrastination is a sin,
As I exile myself away from the hive.

I am cursed,
And what is worse,
I am not the first,
Or the very last;
But death find me fast.

Anarchic ExposureWhere's the justice?
Where's the law?
I think we've been here before.
Settling ancient arguments over stupid scores,
Never learning from our fatal flaws.

Who's to judge?
Who's to preach?
I think we've forgotten how to teach.
Remembering mindless meanings over rational reasons,
Being blind to what we can never reach.

What's the judgement?
What's the verdict?
I think we've lost the capacity to predict.
Forgetting old opinions over venomous views,
Trapped eternally in this confusing conflict.

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Submitted: April 22, 2012
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Fragile

by ~NemoX7, Apr 22, 2012, 1:59:12 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

How could something so fragile,
As the humble heart of a lover's longing,
Be so easily torn in twain?
Was it his desire to deal in danger,
When he first gazed upon your glance?

How could something so fragile,
As the sweet soul of a valentine's virtue,
Be so tragically annulled once again?
In his honour and humility for you he did hunger,
But never did you care or give into chance.

How could something so fragile,
As the flickering fire of a sweetheart's seduction,
Be so pathetically ruined in the rain?
His amorous advances are all but asunder,
With malice you've split his love with your lance.

Fragileby ~NemoX7

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

A poem I wrote about rejection.

Critique by ~NotenSMSK Jun 28, 2012, 12:27:11 PM

The poem is short yet complete keeping the interest of the reader and leaving him satisfied; a good impression. For those on the other hand that prefer a conclusion in a poem it might seem half of the poem. Having gone through it I would say that is not much of an issue.

The form of the stanza is unique and enjoyable for many after they realize the style used. The initial line also has its beauty although there could have been something a bit more dramatic; nevertheless a good opener.

Rhyming has been well handled; it does not seem enforced and rather flows. The concepts expressed are well composed with beautiful word usage.

In the end, I feel the title does not do justice; the poem is not only based on fragility rather it contains your reaction to ones such love. Though not straying from the topic, the title is slightly empty.

Otherwise a great job done. No prominent flaws.

What do you think?

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Critique by ~Michel-le-fou Apr 26, 2012, 1:40:42 AM

Firts of all, after I have read the entire poem, the aspect I noticed is the rhyme among the last lines of the poem. That too has been a very successful device in poetry since the Classics. You have not failed with that. That was the only rhyme in a relatively blank verse poem [I remember from my university life that "blank verse" is unrhymed and "free verse" has undetermined meter] and the core of the poem was written with enough awareness of the sadness of rejection [If that was not your intention,feel free to advise me in your reply]. As I have reported about other poems, there is also onomatopoeia and a few other devices which we have the "poetic license" to use at our will. Well-done once again.

What do you think?

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*princessaquarius Jun 28, 2012 Professional Writer

Really good.

~gummyrabbit Jun 28, 2012 Student Traditional Artist

Hi there!
I saw this in the poetry reviewers group, so I thought I might give you a critique of sorts.
What I like about this poem is the flow of the words. You can read it out loud and it sounds pretty, there's no awkward jolts. The line "the flickering fire of a sweetheart's seduction" sounds especially nice, the syllables are all good together and I really like how you've made alliterations of sorts.
Something I'm not so sure about is the actual language you use at times, words like "twain" can sound slightly affected. Why not use two? Or something more specific than two? On the subject of specificity, I think that that would be something important to add more of to the poem, because without it poems can fall into the sort of generalized and abstracted musings that don't really tell the audience anything especially new. Words like "lance" are good specific words (although I'm not entirely sure to what the lance refers). If you don't want to put in a lot of details because it doesn't fit with the sort of Romantic era poetry that this is similar to, then detailed words are the way to go. Anyway, I'm probably not making myself very clear with explaining this, so my apologies. Not enough specificity is a problem I have all the time when I'm not writing about something direct from my own experiences, so I thought I might share that with you. Anyway, I hope this was helpful, and if you find any of it offensive, just ignore it, because that was not my goal and I'm not an especially good writer. Your poetry seems to have a lot of potential, and I shall go check out the rest of your gallery now.

~Amber-Hart4 May 11, 2012

Love this! I have a friend who is going through this with my best friend. So unsure how to feel about it. Anyway, beautiful poem

*Me2Smart4U Apr 25, 2012 Student Digital Artist

OMG... This is written so well...I do fell the flow....

.....yet I seek all the questions as to why
the beating heart can becoming so wry
it holds the many feelings we don't understand
it can endure so much hope and love yet
it is upset that it just can not take
don't overdose it with too much pain
for it will for sure take its break
the heart is trapped behing the ribs
struggling to beat gentil and free
yet a fragile organ like the heart
can and wiill break in two so easily....

Thank You for the wonderful read...and for the inspiration

~kartiksharma Apr 23, 2012 Student General Artist

Good job!
Really amazing work!

~Vegetabelle Apr 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

This is so heart-wrenchingly beautiful. I really like this one. You've outdone yourself. One comment I would add though, is that the first lines of both the second and third stanzas are not complete sentences, so I would recommend changing the "?" at the end of both of them to a "," for grammar's sake.

~NemoX7 Apr 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Ah, yes. A simple error due to the fact I was copying what I typed on my laptop to my notes section of my blackberry. It was originally commas, but must have overlooked the minor error till now. Glad you mentioned it. Very tedious uploading work on my blackberry, I still have six more to upload.

~Vegetabelle Apr 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

oh ha ha! well I'm glad I mentioned it then. You never know, if I hadn't said anything, then 50 years from now, teachers would be over-analyzing your question marks in literature classes all over the world.

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