Like the rustic orchid
Sitting in a bronzed valley of
Decaying land
Bowing
Looking at footprints left by dusty bear children's feet
After they've playes with the secrect runes.
Despite their laughing
Their pointing ways
Never did the acidic orchid believe
It would sit
Alone
In the dark shadows
Of the night.
28th September, Chloé Davies.
Monday, 29 September 2008
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
White Rebellion
Our lips - Bruised,
From the dangerous kisses you warned us against.
The titanic ache that surrounds our limbs, pulls us into the darkness, known as civilization.
A place where dreams are shot in the black,
Minds are programmed
And souls are banished to the continuous circle of the thick ebany, you call reality.
We may have those brusied lips, you dissaprove of so much,
But atleast we have basked in the glory of the angel kissed light.
Hearing a call as we stand lost,
stranded.
It is the light, calling us back to where we belong,
Back to where we are who we want to be,
Away from your control.
Back to rebellion.
- Chloé Davies, 1st September '08.
From the dangerous kisses you warned us against.
The titanic ache that surrounds our limbs, pulls us into the darkness, known as civilization.
A place where dreams are shot in the black,
Minds are programmed
And souls are banished to the continuous circle of the thick ebany, you call reality.
We may have those brusied lips, you dissaprove of so much,
But atleast we have basked in the glory of the angel kissed light.
Hearing a call as we stand lost,
stranded.
It is the light, calling us back to where we belong,
Back to where we are who we want to be,
Away from your control.
Back to rebellion.
- Chloé Davies, 1st September '08.
Scatter My Ashes, Then I Will Be Near...
Scatter my ashes from the highest building,
And know that the Earth you walk on is alive with a part of me.
The wind that touches your face is me caressing your tears,
And the breeze the wraps it’s slender arms around your waist is blessed with my soul.
For it is rough times when young minds are warped with the world’s cruel destructionWhen young minds learn the world is not as innocent as it made itself out to be.
Let salt drench your cheek bones which I so much admired,
Feel the pains of your overwhelming emotion take control of your skin,
Make yourself vulnerable to the way of grief just once, for me,
Then leave those thoughts be and remember that I am the nutrients that let’s each tree grow.
Death has not taken me, as I will never let it do so; it has only replaced the space I left empty when my invincibility got awoken by reality.
The powers of the world will loom over you,
Stars will seem a million miles away, unreachable from your steady stance,
Dreams will be nothing but dreams and life nothing but a ride, a game, a joke.
But life is real and it is happening now no matter how hard it hits you, or avoids you.
You know it is bad times when old minds look back to words of a teenager for comfort,
When old minds are only 15 years old, stretched by the deceit of pain.
Chloé Davies, September 12th 2008
And know that the Earth you walk on is alive with a part of me.
The wind that touches your face is me caressing your tears,
And the breeze the wraps it’s slender arms around your waist is blessed with my soul.
For it is rough times when young minds are warped with the world’s cruel destructionWhen young minds learn the world is not as innocent as it made itself out to be.
Let salt drench your cheek bones which I so much admired,
Feel the pains of your overwhelming emotion take control of your skin,
Make yourself vulnerable to the way of grief just once, for me,
Then leave those thoughts be and remember that I am the nutrients that let’s each tree grow.
Death has not taken me, as I will never let it do so; it has only replaced the space I left empty when my invincibility got awoken by reality.
The powers of the world will loom over you,
Stars will seem a million miles away, unreachable from your steady stance,
Dreams will be nothing but dreams and life nothing but a ride, a game, a joke.
But life is real and it is happening now no matter how hard it hits you, or avoids you.
You know it is bad times when old minds look back to words of a teenager for comfort,
When old minds are only 15 years old, stretched by the deceit of pain.
Chloé Davies, September 12th 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
