Poems
-
hows this?
Mazohyst of Decadence
by kyo. DEG
The born child, extracted from an adult
whose sins are without consciousness
I, who am also nameless, do not understand
why I exist only here,
but I am unaware that my life is being counted only in months....
I want to be able to love I want to be born
I stare at the inside of this mother's body
Because it is now the time to bring forth consciousness,
I have felt something early in the second month
Still, I can do nothing That internal plug is....
I, who am incomplete, am a decapitated pain
tearing through a body
My mother's piercing cries do not stop ringing in my ears
A group of adults in white robes have rescued me
In eyes filled with cold-heartedness
I, who has no blood-stained right hand, am reflected
I was bound in black vinyl
As my inner consciousness gradually declines,
I think quietly to myself
If, in the cage, I was able to love,
then that would be okay...but I cannot forgive
It will be better for me to die as I am: unable to love
Therefore, I will not unleash my first cry
Instead, I think that I will just sleep quietly
Just once, I want to try to feel my mother's love with this hand
I am sure whether this is love Thank you
The door which could not be opened twice
was now being rigidly shut
However, I am probably your future self, therefore
This is truly something wonderful, isn't it?
Yes
How many are you?
I am one person, alone
I have fallen in love with innumerable things
Do you forgive me?
Listen! More people..
It is truly wonderful with this, isn't it?
Yes
Is the meal good?
Yes
Well then, let's begin
la la la...
I will burn until the ashes of my skeleton become nothing
Farewell -
wah got 4 him den wer mine?Originally posted by Callan:Another acrostic poem for a long time friend and brother. He's one of the moderators in this forum and I only find it appropriate to dedicate it to him here. Again, the first letter of each line spells out his nick.
Awaking from his slumber,
Nascent into this millenium,
Gleaming with happiness and joy,
Ever full of sparkles,
Leaving a trail of hope behind,
Dreams are made of these,
Abstruseis are those thoughts of his,
Remarkable his presence is,
Killing all sadness with it.
-
304 goushitsu, hakushi no sakura (room #304, cherry blossoms of white death)
By: Kyo DEG
As always, nothing has shifted from the window
The cherry blossoms...
trembling trembling trembling pliantly dancing in the wind
Today, my consciousness is also dispersing
Who are you? I cannot remember anything
Taking my hands reassuringly...
Tears overflowed, falling into my grasped hands
Those eyes, from which the flow seemed never to end,
were telling me something
Why does your scent seem so nostalgic....?
In this room, I have surely lost my life alone
The flower upon which no one can gaze is....
The quickly scattering flowers are shaking in the wind
The white infirmary, blowing in the wind
The pain was increasing with each passing day
You held my thinning, ugly body
I approached my final moments,
and recalled a single precious person
Tomorrow, I will become ashes and return to the sand
The cherry blossoms seen in the window
I want to sleep beneath them
I was bound with care within your hands....
Room #304 Transporting me silently
as if forgetting you twice
From now on, I will sway in the wind with the cherry blossoms,
remembering you
flutteringly flutteringly
flutteringly flutteringly -
Is this one written by you...? It's REALLY COOL...?Originally posted by Mazohyst:hows this?
Mazohyst of Decadence
by kyo. DEG
The born child, extracted from an adult
whose sins are without consciousness
I, who am also nameless, do not understand
why I exist only here,
but I am unaware that my life is being counted only in months....
I want to be able to love I want to be born
I stare at the inside of this mother's body
Because it is now the time to bring forth consciousness,
I have felt something early in the second month
Still, I can do nothing That internal plug is....
I, who am incomplete, am a decapitated pain
tearing through a body
My mother's piercing cries do not stop ringing in my ears
A group of adults in white robes have rescued me
In eyes filled with cold-heartedness
I, who has no blood-stained right hand, am reflected
I was bound in black vinyl
As my inner consciousness gradually declines,
I think quietly to myself
If, in the cage, I was able to love,
then that would be okay...but I cannot forgive
It will be better for me to die as I am: unable to love
Therefore, I will not unleash my first cry
Instead, I think that I will just sleep quietly
Just once, I want to try to feel my mother's love with this hand
I am sure whether this is love Thank you
The door which could not be opened twice
was now being rigidly shut
However, I am probably your future self, therefore
This is truly something wonderful, isn't it?
Yes
How many are you?
I am one person, alone
I have fallen in love with innumerable things
Do you forgive me?
Listen! More people..
It is truly wonderful with this, isn't it?
Yes
Is the meal good?
Yes
Well then, let's begin
la la la...
I will burn until the ashes of my skeleton become nothing
Farewell -
Yes... Sometimes it really AMAZES yourself what you can write when you're depressed now... Isn't it...?Originally posted by ^-^Cutee^Man-D^-^:I also rite poetry... but most of them are realli depressing
coz i rite when im depressed
so yeah if u want em speak and it shall be
hihi
-
WATER DRAINS
Tiny drops of water,
water drains...
Little piece of mumbles,
Mumbles rain....
Tiny drops of water,
water rains....
Little drops of shimmers,
Are they hopes or pain....?
Tiny drops of water...
On the plain....
Are they truly so great in number...?
The sun could change....
Tiny drops of water,
down the drain....
Fresh clean or filthy,
all without brains.....
PS. Just my thoughts at the moment... -
Possible Failure========> c mandys_e_news inc 2oo2
An unexpected surprise
Sheds new light upon the subject
Dark light
Controversy reeks havoc
Regrest, so many
Nothing can be done
Sides taken
Territory chosen
Overlapping boundaries
Unknown
Accepting differences, difficulties
Presented with more trauma
Circular movement
No hope remains
Surroundings are bleak
Outcome uncertain
PoSsIbLe fAiLuRe -
Nope... i used to write... but i lost all liaoz... this one is actually a song by Dir en Grey.Originally posted by Devil1976:Is this one written by you...? It's REALLY COOL...? -
Be
once i used to be happy.
once i used to be cheerful.
once i used to be alert.
once i used to be talkative.
once i used to be are the past.
now i used to be sad.
now i used to be bo liao.
now i used to be blur.
now i used to be quiet.
now i used to be are what it happen right now.
-
<> c mandys_e_news inc 2oo2
Are you there?
I cannot see you.
Are you there?
Or a figment of my imagination.
Do we exist?
Am i like you?
Is there a reason
for a meeting such as this.
is this reality?
I know not
Could it be real?
Or an elaborate scheme?
So many questions,
yet so few answers.
Questions, floating in space.
Remaining unanswered through time.
Am I here?
Can't you see me?
Am I here?
Or a figment of your imagination. -
I think the author of that SAC poem is seriously in need of psychological help...
-
hear hear...
-
Violet
by wanker
property of BAKA GEMU CO.
Violet wants to play a game.
A game where we can all have fun
She strips out of her clothes and ties me up
And whips me into submission
Submission.
Cold cruel submission
I enjoy submission,
Do you?
I play along with Violet
We delight in the flow of our blood
The pain is excruciating
How fun.
The pain brings pleasure,
Pleasure beyond words.
Pleasure which is brought by open wounds,
Wounds of a masochist
She, the sadist
I, the masochist
We coexist in this romp
We need each other
She hurts me
I feel wonderful
I receive punishment from her,
I'm sure she loves it too
The chains and the toys,
Glittering prizes in our eyes.
We play with them like school children
Hurting each other with them
Our tears and wounds bring joy,
Not pain.
But the laughter brings pain,
Not humor
Once again the game is ended,
To continue another day
But next time I'll get Violet, I swear
For the castration she gave me today. -
psycho psycho radical psycho...
-
Can anyobdy give some flak for this poem???
-
Disinfectant
by Mazohyst
The old man,
lying in his hospital bed,
Waiting for death to carry him away.
The smell of the disinfectant,
piercing the senses
of the waiting relatives.
Waiting for the moment,
waiting for death to carry him away.
Do you regret now?
What you should have said,
but have not done?
What you should have done,
but have not done?
What awaits you?
The gaping black abyss of the unknown,
the place we all go...
When your mother died,
you wondered what she felt...
now you feel it yourself...
Is it nice?
The moment approaches.
You see it on the faces of your family.
They stand around the bed...
Looking at you,
you, with those tubes sticking out your body.
The young ones,
watching in fascination
as the heart monitor beats...
Even now, you feel the strain
it takes to keep it beating
waiting for that final moment,
Waiting for death to carry you away.
There... you hear it now
The call to leave.
Your family stands, helpless
begging you to stay.
You can't hear it anymore
Your mind, your consciousness, your soul,
drifting away into nothing
The droning beep...
heralding your departure
heralding the moment,
that death took you away. -
Originally posted by Mazohyst:Disinfectant
by Mazohyst
The old man,
lying in his hospital bed,
Waiting for death to carry him away.
The smell of the disinfectant,
piercing the senses
of the waiting relatives.
Waiting for the moment,
waiting for death to carry him away.
Do you regret now?
What you should have said,
but have not done?
What you should have done,
but have not done?
What awaits you?
The gaping black abyss of the unknown,
the place we all go...
When your mother died,
you wondered what she felt...
now you feel it yourself...
Is it nice?
The moment approaches.
You see it on the faces of your family.
They stand around the bed...
Looking at you,
you, with those tubes sticking out your body.
The young ones,
watching in fascination
as the heart monitor beats...
Even now, you feel the strain
it takes to keep it beating
waiting for that final moment,
Waiting for death to carry you away.
There... you hear it now
The call to leave.
Your family stands, helpless
begging you to stay.
You can't hear it anymore
Your mind, your consciousness, your soul,
drifting away into nothing
The droning beep...
heralding your departure
heralding the moment,
that death took you away.
For my granduncle... who's just died.