Poetry And Short Stories

Predictor of Small Fates, The Personification of a Shrub (avatar made by stuupidlildoodles)

[differentkindsofghosts]

Another gift from our gracious lord

Wrought by heavy, calloused hands,

But we carry on, better for our burdens

Shoulders stronger at the back's expense,

Survive, we say. Eyes down, hands bound

[differentkindsofghosts]

Restless and angry,

Frustration guides idle hands

Into violence

[differentkindsofghosts]

Sweet, passing bliss

Another listless, lazy cloud

Lumbers above, about,

Unintentional

[differentkindsofghosts]

Too much is shrouded, today,

Half-truths and twice-lies

Run amok with idle minds

And busy tongues

[differentkindsofghosts]

Another day's relentless rain

Cloud and concrete darken, dampen,

The Sun unseen, time loses all sense

And malaise runs rampant

Through our misty minds

[differentkindsofghosts]

Crack the earth

Shrugging off, again,

The mud and stone

Moss, overgrown

Like wild, patient flames

And life, itself -- all-consuming

[differentkindsofghosts]

The little village was vanished,

Consumed,

By the phantoms of morning's rain.

The hills are haunted,

And wandered,

By the mist that remains.

[differentkindsofghosts]

Laughing disbelief,

As desperation disolves

Into emptiness

[differentkindsofghosts]

Gentle notes play along the breeze,

The browning leaves whirl

A slow, cold dance

[differentkindsofghosts]

Latent, now lingering,

The lost feelings you've been searching for

Down in the deep,

You struck the scarred earth,

Loosing the black well,

Drowning for your effort,

Abyss for your curiosity.

[differentkindsofghosts]

The cathartic chase,

Fang and tail,

May lead you nowhere fast,

But it does often help,

With puzzling out the problems,

And unraveling the tangled stresses,

Of a troubled mind

[differentkindsofghosts]

Summer's breeze, embittered,

Descends, biting and cold,

Blustering indifferently,

Through the naked branches.

Bundle up, be safe,

And good luck out there.

[differentkindsofghosts]

These warm nights, still lingering,

Hold the last line against Autumn's chilling,

Hands of icy dawn,

That pluck leaves from their branches,

And dreamers from their sleep

[differentkindsofghosts]

I'm very much a brain in a body, today.

Everything feels so near-detached,

And unfamiliar.

No, I remember.

Just,

Almost

[differentkindsofghosts]

Isn't it sad,

That the life you find yourself with,

That you wake up ensnared in,

Is so far from the gild and wonder,

Your dreams had laid out for you?

[differentkindsofghosts]

Every morning, a new ache.

Sometimes shallow and fleeting,

Often deep and terrible.

Each night, I sink beneath the covers,

Heavy under the mounting stresses,

Some are old and scabbed over,

Picked and scratched until bloody,

Some new and ripe,

Plucked from the troubles of the day,

Sore, just the same.

[differentkindsofghosts]

A castaway,

Adrift in the nothing between stars,

Careening along the streams and cosmic byways,

Numb to the quiet loneliness,

And the slow, slow, suffocation,

Dreamily wondering what distant shores,

Might hold up my weariness

And let me sleep