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Of many things

Author: Twisted
Elite Ratio:    7.47 - 159 /57 /75
Words: 239
Class/Type: Misc /Misc
Total Views: 1126
Average Vote:    5.0000
Bytes: 1399


Well, I wish I could say this won that " Who are you (#2) but I feel like I did!

Of many things

I am many people, many things, many different lives, floating endlessly in the tide of life. I jumble around upon the webs and dance among the stars.

I laughed at the dead, for they suffer where I reign.

I am a candle.

I cut through the darkness when I am tall and young, and as the seasons change, I remain, daring to stand against the wind.

I am transparent promises.

In a world of darkness, of night with small fragile hopes, just like my darkness, I am forbidden and unknown. Through the distant gaps, I try to grasp what is left, of fallen memories, and the small remains of my best. And there they always remained, in the darkness, forbidden, broken transparent promises.

I am Death.

You fall into despair, the perfect deception of my invisible trap. I watch you struggle, and pray that you are not cut...yet. I devour your light, and then send you to my kingdom of the dead. I steal your life force and whisper poisons in your ears.

But most of all...I am memories.

Of a life forgotten, left behind.

Of your disease, where you can hear what I say, and no one else can.

Of the thoughts of eternal life.

I am the memories of many things.

I am the memories of Time.

Submitted on 2006-11-20 16:40:00     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  I feel so bad; I have yet to comment on any of your work, yet you stalk mine. But do not worry I will try and read and comment your work more often.

At first with this poem I felt very peaceful and in a daze yet as I went on I felt a tyrant person coming through attempting to scare me. You made me feel like a lost child wanting their mother.

I liked the flow and then the sudden stop. This style kept me awake and reading.

Fabulous work as always.
| Posted on 2007-12-09 00:00:00 | by the_truth | [ Reply to This ]
  This truly deserve a standing ovation *stands and claps*
I wrote a poem simililar to this once, but your poem outshines it and I can honestly say this without any eny at all. Throughout the beginning of the poem it almost made me feel like I was in some kind of trace or daze. Like a peaceful river just flowing along some path without any consience at all. But once you got to the part about memories, it was as if I realized that river had sped up somewhere along that path and I was falling now, preparing to crash to the bottom that I didn't want to meet.
I could relate to this part the most. It is a disease sometimes to be able to think. To have your own thoughts and word zoom through your head and not even have to say them out loud. And sometimes those thoughts can run rampant and wild and lead you to ideas that you don't even want to think about...and you wish that the little voice inside your head that's your consience would just shut the hell up, but it's impossible to silence it without ending yourself as well. So, in that sense I would firmly agree that thought is a disease, if thought was what you meant as the disease in those lines.
Truly beautiful. It's all I can really say to sum this all up. Sorry if I rambled forever here, lol. Anyways, great write.

| Posted on 2006-11-22 00:00:00 | by Toxic_Rayne | [ Reply to This ]

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