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imaginary suicideHarder this time I'm beaten down,
And screaming for my grave.
I just lie here on the ground;
I know I can't be saved.
My body is bleeding
To rid me of my pain.
Pretending I'm not needing,
Although all I am is slain.
My life has been taken;
I'm a slave to my own dreams.
Haunted by what's been forsaken,
Betrayed by my own fatal scheme.
My soul is now sleeping,
And all is fading to black.
False hope is now weeping,
There is no turning back.
The Two WorldsSweet, sweet Fantasy,
Living in my dreams.
A world made of Valor and of
Sleeping silent in my dreams.
Truth shines with all its
Beauty flows from within.
Courage prevails over Fear,
Forsaking any doubt of
Ah! But yet!
My living nightmare!
Full of Death and Deceit;
This other world of Hate!
O! 'Tis sad but true
That this must exist,
That in sooth, you have not
Good without Evil.
'Tis and awful balance
To live between.
My ReflectionMy fingers tremble on this vacant page,
Perpetual whiteness begging for black.
Pen and parchment: emotion's spotlight stage
Bid me write between every blue track.
My heart is poured out onto empty lines,
It flies on wings of imagination.
'Tis the place where all that I am entwines;
Revealing me in rhyming narration.
In every stanza, all my thoughts are read;
Everything inside my core can be seen.
In writing are the things which can't be said,
Uncovering my soul's deepest ravine.
'Tis a mirror, this paper in my hands,
The mirror in which my reflection stands.
HomeI'm trapped, so trapped
inside these walls.
Through silence I'm screaming,
but no one hears my calls.
Inside these walls
I call my home,
in this place of freedom,
I find my bondage.
This familiar place is still
inconsistent and oppressive, this place,
leaves me lonely and deranged.
I come home every day
and sit in my room,
on my bed in gloom,
but to my fears I am no longer prey.
Springtime has come,
and my window shade is up.
Rarely does sunlight strum
the hopeful chords of my soul.
And to this strum,
this mournful song,
my heart beats the melody,
and my blood dances through my veins.
It sings sadly of its tragedy,
and hope and reverie.
But still these walls steal it away,
taking me with it.
I am tossed about
inside my nightmare,
in these walls in which I live,
sleep, dream, laugh and cry.
Alone I wander these floors, this property.
On these acres, through these trees,
in my dwelling, my soul wanders lonely.
I am but a vagabond searching for my home.
Secret PerformanceOnce again night falls around me,
Hiding me behind a curtain made of stars.
And once again no one else can see
What's disguised behind my scars.
A smile hides my fears,
Covering the sadness in my eyes,
But you would never see my tears
When you believe what you surmise.
My masquerade assures you
There's nothing wrong today.
You can't see the way I fool you,
So you believe that I'm okay.
Behind the LimelightThe alarm screams
To wake her for the day.
Slowly she abandons her nighttime dreams
As she prepares to hide her soul away.
She sits in front of the mirror
Putting on a facade of mascara and blush.
Her image becomes strikingly clearer
As the rest of the world falls into a blurry hush.
Only she can see her true reflection
Which is masked behind her fame.
Everyone else sees her practiced perfection,
But only she knows that her flaws are tamed.
With fans screaming all around
She walks out on the stage,
And as the music begins to play in the background,
She feels as if she's locked in a cage.
But when she begins to sing the song she wrote,
She keeps her image calm and composed.
And her voice perfectly hits every note
As she remain hidden with most of her body exposed.
At the end of her performance
She leaves the limelight empty.
Finally alone, she can take off her pretense
And let her tears fall where no one else can see.
All of her pain and misery falls to the floor
Where it joins her lone
Poetry in High SchoolCummings,
read their poetry,
see their meter
(or lack there of)
delve deep and pull out the hidden meaning.
Who says there is one?
Can't a poet write just because?
Or does every English teacher have to
dissect and tear apart each verse
in their vain search of
XCVIwhen all around me's crashing down
with feet no longer planted firmly on the ground,
i close my eyes
to find myself in paradise;
protected in the arms of my angel.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More