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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.
Ready To IgniteMy chest feels like a furnace,
And my lungs are on fire.
Death is my mind's only desire;
But I will carry on with bitter grace,
Knowing my ashes may leave no trace.

My chest feels like a grenade,
And my heart is about to explode.
Shall I continue down this road?
But now I stop because I am afraid,
That the life I lead may never be saved.

My chest feels like an anvil,
And my ribs feel like lead.
In my palms is black blood that bled,
But I am scared so much my stare is still,
With bleak eyes I accept misery for good or ill.
The Pain WithinLet go of your hate,
Your revenge can wait.
Whoever did you wrong,
Can never know the hurt,
That made you strong.

You know it's a part,
Of you're aching heart.
Whoever broke your smile,
Can never understand the pain,
That turned you vile.

Don't give up on love,
Though you'll feel rough.
Whoever killed your hope,
Can never believe the longing,
That more you cope.
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.
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,
BeautyBeauty rose out of that silent sea,
Her eyes were tepid with wild thunder,
And then she turned and looked at me.
Me; a meagre man who knew no lady fair,
Nor one of care as she snaps my heart asunder.

Beauty flew up to that sinister sky,
Her lips were dark with mad desire,
And then she turned and started to cry.
Cry; a crude curse who knew no mortal smile,
Nor one so vile as she scars my aura in fire.

Beauty stood up on that scarlet skin,
Her locks were rouge with quiet rain,
And then she turned and walked on sin.
Sin; a sordid spirit who knew no lover true,
Nor one in clue as she saves me from my pain.
Innocence of the LostLook at the little girl,
Who wishes to be a beautiful ballerina,
In a dream where she'll twist and twirl.
With happiness in her childish laugh,
And no inkling of the meaning of wrath.

Look at the little boy,
Who wishes to be a courageous commander,
In his fantasy all the demons he'll destroy.
With ignorance in his youthful mind,
And no warning of what future he'll find.

Look at the weary woman,
With a frown on her fragile face,
She's doing the best she can.
All hope in her heart is gone,
But for all her woes she'll carry on.

Look at the moody man,
With a grimace upon his grim grin,
He's tired of his life's plan.
Now he sits
FragileHow 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.
Escape From RealitySometimes when I close my eyes,
I dream of a calmer time when I didn't cry.
To slumber alone in those sunshine days,
Where I was at peace: away from the craze,
Yet I fear I'm wondering lost in their urban plague.

Sometimes when I close my eyes,
I escape to a darker place where I can die.
To linger awhile in that luminous night,
Where I can be content: caught in the daze,
Yet I know I'm struggling now in this hopeless phase.

Sometimes when I close my eyes,
I think of a serene dawn while I sigh.
To vacate away in that voidless space,
Where I shall be alive: independent of that maze,
Yet I wake I'm choking air in that distant place
AscensionHere I shall reside in spiritual ascension,
Relieving my spirit of all my torment and tension.
Here I'll breathe whispering winds of relief,
Purging those days of dark deliverance,
While I blind all my mortal sins to a new belief.

To ascend above obsidian mountain summits,
In the mists of immortal mystery.
To gaze gracefully upon ladies of luminescence lit,
As hope clings to you in harrowing hysteria,
Where all macabre minutiae of life comes to sit.

To tentatively touch lavender sweet skies,
Upon that sea of eternal sorrow.
To listen lightly to sirens singing sanguine cries.
As time passes by into trials of tomorrow,
Where all a
Black-HeartOh look at her with ivory eyes,
Striking the velvet veil of starless skies.
Is she a draconian demon ready to bring ruin,
Upon those that ripped her life apart,
With every pulsating beat of her black-heart?

Oh look at her with crimson claws,
Maiming the satin skin of monstrous maws.
Is she a bedlam beast desiring to grant devastation,
Upon those who mocked her for a start,
With all the wild begging of her black-heart?

Oh look at her with ebony breath,
Purging the flaxen flesh of devilish death.
Is she a cruel creature who wields her earthly wrath
Upon all who took to hurt with such art,
With the aching echoes of her black-heart?
Dear Mr. RealityDear Mr. Reality,
What have you done to me?
I am alone and everyone has died,
Was it more than words of weary woe,
Or silence that made them leave?

Dear Mr. Reality,
Where are you right now?
I am scared and everything has gone,
Was it only little things in turbulent times,
Or a catastrophe I did not know?

Dear Mr. Reality,
Why couldn't you just be dead?
I am upset and everywhere has vanished,
Was it just me screwing up social salutations,
Or mere fantasy of realism instead?
Isolated In SilenceLet that scarlet sound,
Take you away,
To enjoy life another day.
Drum beats reverberate all around,
As your feelings of sorrow start to sway.

Let that noire noise,
Turn you off,
To hear life through cloth.
Cymbal clashes echo like a voice,
As your thoughts of worry weaken your worth.

Let that sapphire silence,
Twist your arm,
To view life without violence.
Nothing speaks but your inner charm,
As your dreams of simple sin makes no sense.
Never SurrenderIt's all unjust. It's all unfair,
Why does anyone give a care?
Whether life is cruel or kind,
I reserve the right to laugh than die,
But I'll never surrender to these tears I cry.

It's all untrue. It's all unbearable,
Why are these thoughts in me so horrible?
Whether death is clairvoyant or blind,
I deserve the dignity to question my time,
But I'll never surrender to these words I rhyme.
The Devil's GraveyardInto the devil's graveyard I tread,
With a heart aching with dread.
Never before has man set foot on such sinful soil,
Than here in this place I call an infernal abode,
Where I must suffer under torment and toil.

Into the devil's graveyard I breathe,
With a soul drowning with grief.
Forever may man be cursed with virtuous veins,
So that here I might crumble into dust,
And all hope dies as my life drains.

Into the devil's graveyard I wonder,
With a mind pulsing with thunder.
Ever has man slept in such a hellish home,
But here and now I rest with such weary tears,
Whilst my nightmares are free to roam.
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More from ~NemoX7

Brain-DeadIs my brain in a daze?
I cannot write another lucid line,
That could possibly even rhyme.
It must be a miracle I must confess,
That words have failed me no less.

Is my brain really dead?
I mean there's only a silent sound,
Coming from all around.
It must be a curse I must respect,
That much I have to accept.

Is my brain in despair?
I regret this composition isn't clear,
But I'm losing my way I fear.
All I need is the spark of fire,
To ignite my heart's one true desire.
AmbienceAt the bay of a sorrowful sea,
I watch that incoming tearful tide,
And I wonder how sad it seems to me.
But back into wild waters it does hide,
To cry out woe it won't confide.

At the grove of a forlorn forest,
I hear that outgoing bitterly breeze,
And I hope to hear birdsong before I rest.
But this winter wind can only freeze,
Those broken hearts who sleep at best.
Wound, Maim and KillBang! Hear the smoking gun,
Ring out with a shot of ice.
I thought it was not much fun,
But the idiot thought it be oh so nice,
To put a bronze bullet in my head.

Swish! Hear the silent knife,
Fly through this air of clarity.
I think he's destroyed my life,
And I'm ashamed to walk in this city,
With this scarlet scar I lie in bed.

Crack! Hear the exploding baton,
Come colliding with your skull.
I know it's a fight he has won,
Yet his victory will be very dull,
When I'm dead and he has a face so red.
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.
It May EndThere may come a time,
When the well runs dry,
And I cannot compose another rhyme.
But until then I will still try,
To make you laugh and perhaps even cry.

There may come a day,
When the train hits the buffer,
And I cannot write what I hope to say.
But until then I will suffer,
To write words like a roving lover.

There may come a hour,
When the sun stays in the clouds,
And songs are like a shower.
But until then I will think aloud,
And compose complexities to the crowd.
Suicide DreamI hate this suicide dream,
I go to sleep and then I awake,
To the pitch black and then I scream.
I'm drowning in the depths of a lake,
And it feels so real to me and I die.

I despise this suicide dream,
I watch it with waking eyes,
In the glare of daylight by a stream.
I'm suffocating and no one can hear my cries,
And it's stopping me from even breathing.

I loathe this suicide dream,
I hear only silence in my brain,
But then again nothing is as it may seem.
I'm dying as I slash through a vein,
And all the blood does bubble then drain.

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March 26, 2012
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[x]

The Hardest Word

:iconnemox7:

To 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?
:iconnemox7:
Wrote this last week, haven't had the time of late to write much or submit anything.
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:iconmichel-le-fou:
Critique by ~Michel-le-fou Mar 26, 2012, 6:36:18 AM
Good rhyme pattern,I have seen so many that used rhymed couplets like children's nursery stuff and I have critiqued only a few. You and I share a skill at blank or slant rhyme. Glad to see that.
About the scheme, it was definitely original and well-constructed. Your tone is rather sarcastic though, especially when you stipulate that you would prefer to leave rather than to surrender; but who knows? Maybe many people are that way nowadays?
You did one more thing that i liked: you looked at the three words that may really be hard to say. I often hear that Sorry seems so hard to say. Very interesting material. Congratulations and thank you for writing a change.
What do you think?
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:iconsaphiquex13:
Mood: Mesmerized ~SaphiqueX13 Mar 26, 2012  Student General Artist
This certainly caught my eye, it's very original :) It has excellent flow and has great emotion. I really love it.
Reply
:icontamiea:
Mood: Sadness ~tamiea Mar 26, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Nice . Very sad too
Reply
:iconvegetabelle:
~Vegetabelle Mar 26, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
I absolutely love this. This is probably the best thing you've written in a few days. The rhyme and rhythm don't sound forced at all, and the overall syntax is just great! ^_^ Great topic. It really feels like your pulling from experience, and real emotion here. It feels like your showing us yourself.
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:iconhaakon95:
Mood: Love ~haakon95 Mar 26, 2012
naice!!!!
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