Poetry & Prose

Join me on the edge of time
Where pain and fear subside
And things we've never dared to speak
Find no reason left to hide

Join me after midnights toll
While killing words still sleep
Where every secret in your heart
Will lose all will to keep

Join me before morning breaks
And unwanted eyes can see
Where imagination turns to dreams
And dreams - Reality

An old one of mine from years ago.

Interlude

Transcend frame to frame, the thoughts of a heart animated in an idle glow. And yet sadly a dozen memories put to shame over winter tears treading the change, frame to frame among scarred paper-fake smiles and time-stained tiles. He prepares himself the coming season of pain, a darkened faith one may never see, and this one which is yet to be. Treading a path of time stood still, and looking back upon the pain, these fallen leaves of grief, the breeze blows upon him the cold of past lies, ties of long closed eyes, dreams of a symbolic mechanical rejection twisting a horizon into tragic irony. What was that message to be given? Some just aren't meant to live that deserving dream.. Climb over the mountain, stand on the top, and watch them fall below their ignorance. When suddenly the page turns to the next chapter, a foreshadowing interlude of a played out tune, a habitual pattern of a time soon. Hands of the hour, ticks of the minute, they trace away the hunt, kill and skin it. Counter-clock tomorrow's light, a vision sought through a bloodshot sight, attempting to close the mind to that memory, and just let it go, yet instilled with such an enduring flashback of a lost love, the origin of swelling power blared out by a speaker of song, a long wail of a fist smashing away the walls, tear them all down, rip them apart one by one until he's reached these doors. A rusted faded steel of sleeping sores. The knob grabbed at his hand and beckon itself open slower than a galactic birth, the revolting of just one second, where he spent his sleep that night. Just a thought running through his brain frame to frame, like an animated haze, and yet sadly another dozen memories put to shame, autumn tears treading its change. He'll prepare himself the next chapter, a repeated pattern. Hands of the hour, ticks of the minute, just another kill to take and skin it, brought home to a trophy for his past pain, the only possession left of him that day, under a weather of what was foretold. And just what was the message? Some just weren't meant to live the deserving dream. He prepares himself that coming season of pain, a darkened faith one may never see and this one which is yet to be.

"Take my hand," you say,
but our fingers slip past.
"Hold on," you shout,
But there's nothing left to grasp.
I fall,
eyes closed,
embracing death in a silent scream,
the world rushing past in a whirlwind,
glass and glitter piercing my skin,
light bouncing off bloodstained shards
as the world goes dark.

Geez Ace, your awesome at writing

I see the rain drip down your face.
It's like we're suspended in time and space.
I take your hand, and I tell you to run.
Don't ever look back. It ruins the fun.
We get in my police box, and then we take flight.
We fly past the stars that glimmer at night.
I'm always on the run. I don't ever look back.
You're my companion. You take my heart and mend the cracks.
I'll take you through the universe forever and ever.
I'll take you on adventures wherever, whenever.
Some beings fear me. They call me a monster,
But you know me as simply the Doctor.

Limbs on a string, dancing as they tug,
smile plastered in a grin so smug.
You sway and sing to a hypnotic tune,
dancing alone in a forsaken room.

Stillness.
The wind blows,
the water runs,
and yet nothing moves.
Everything moves.
The earth shakes,
the fire rises,
and yet nothing changes.
Everything changes.
Space glimmers,
time moves forward,
and yet nothing phases.
Everything phases.
Motion.

Saturn rings and phoenix wings,
a cloak of stardust thread.
I am queen of sand box land,
the king of heart and head.

I've read all of these but haven't commented much so I thought I probably should.

I enjoy these. All of them. You guys are awesome and have true talent. Keep it up. Poetry makes the world sound so much better.

New beginnings from ancient ends,
the point in which the story bends
from tragedy to endless bliss,
that I might say I live for this.
Maskless face and truthful gaze
keep the flames of love ablaze.
Now I know the journey's cost,
so glad am I to've loved and lost.