Flutterbyes and Lullabies.
| Author | Message |
|---|---|
| lord voldemort. Salute You in Your Grave  Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 2404 | Poem 2. Soldier Boy. Poem 3. Puppet Boy. Poem 4. Angel Boy. Poem 5. Artist Boy. Poem 6. Doll. Poem 7. Mr. Piano Man. |
| blow Bleeding on the Floor  Age: - Gender: Female Posts: 1137 | I really love this. Just one thing, you need to make this into an anthology where the first post has a link to each poem you have posted. If your confused, read the rules or look at some of the other threads. |
| lord voldemort. Salute You in Your Grave Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 2404 | ^ Thanks for telling me. - Outer Space. Don't speak. Planets have no lips. And we can never talk In this play. There's no such thing as God Other than the shuttles. Dark matter means naught But a lullaby. And we’ll meet in the stars, Live in the sky and in the sun. Dance across the Milky Way And die along the satellites. The moon is mere crust While the stars flicker out, And we are nothing more Than outer space. Please, don't speak. I thought planets have no lips. And we can't even talk In this play. Please, God, oh please. Come alive in this airless cradle. Erase the dark matter And sing a lullaby. |
| blow Bleeding on the Floor Age: - Gender: Female Posts: 1137 | no prob. I just gotta say again how much I love this poem. It is sooo so good. |
| lord voldemort. Salute You in Your Grave Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 2404 | Soldier Boy. Don't give up, just stand and fight, If they win, they gain the light. "Throw those past sins away; The saints are dead," he tried to say. "The saints are dead, our Soldier Boy, The sinners shot them and made their toy. Bang, bang, bang, they killed them good, We watched them die while you just stood." An alien guilt appears as ice cold water, Thrown on him by the remnants of martyrs. They scream and weep and fall down from the clouds, "You shall pay," shriek the ghosts, "Die like the Lamb before the crowds!" Soldier Boy cowers and cries As his once good friends look on while he dies. Pinned to the cross he had once worn 'round his neck, He bleeds ribbons while his hands tear and his body begins to wreck. "The saints are dead, our Soldier Boy, The sinners shot them and made their toy. Bang, bang, bang, they killed them good, We watched them die while you just stood." And the citizens shout, "You must atone for your sins, Our Soldier Boy, bleed out the lies and say 'sorry' for your supposed 'wins'! The enemies have betrayed, infiltrated, and killed; It's all your fault, our Soldier Boy, for failing to do what God had willed. Pay for your faults, spill out your wine, Soldier Boy, oh Soldier Boy, confess to your crime! Dying is easier with a lighter chest, Confessions make it easier to finally rest." And Soldier Boy, with his final breaths, replies, "I did no wrong, those Innocents were marked to die. Their expressions betrayed the evil that lay asleep; Their words: mere fibs and your pain: a treat. Your God has forsaken you: those who kill In His name; this is not His will. You cannot smile or laugh or pray For an unfortunate mortal that has infinite debts to pay. Your hearts are blackened, Your expressions blankened; Your minds have become toys, And your hatred pointed to me, a poor Soldier Boy." His lungs give out as his veins run dry. His heart stops beating while the tears he'd once cried Turn red upon his open cut: a cross drawn Crudely onto his cheek; the mark of God's pawn. Silence befalls them all As the corpse of their poor Soldier Boy begins to fall. His hands still stay, nailed to the wood; Eerily similar to the Lamb; insulting to the Lamb's good. "The saint is dead, his name: Soldier Boy. The sinners killed him, they were the toys. Oh yes, oh yes, they killed him good, They watched him die while waiting angels stood." |
| lord voldemort. Salute You in Your Grave Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 2404 | Puppet Boy. Play with your strings And maybe you'll sing A beautiful, beautiful song, But the melody is long gone. Your eyes, they smart, And tear and start To bleed as you choke. And now you will char and smoke. The master, he says not to fret. But you can only bet That he has something in store For you, and it is filled with horror and gore. A knife, perhaps, and an alibi. Time to say goodbye... The strings will be cut And the knife shall end up wedged in your gut. With your last dying gasp, Your wooden jaw unclasps, And you whisper your famous last words; Breathe your trembling words. "You are the master and I am the puppet, But that means nothing in this final stage set." And as he faded, the mannequin wearing the most evil of grins, The puppeteer falls; the victim wins. "You are the master and I am the puppet, But that means nothing in this final stage set. For you are the human and I am the toy, And you will always lose and the winner will always be Puppet Boy." |
| lord voldemort. Salute You in Your Grave Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 2404 | Angel Boy. Oh Angel, where are your wings? Have they been torn off again? Come with me, Angel Boy, and I'll sew them back on. No need to cry, Angel, I'm here. Oh Angel, where is your halo? So golden and perfect and new? Did it break your fall as you fell down from Heaven, Angel? Is that why tears stain your face? Oh Angel Boy, why are you trembling? And why is there blood on your face? I'll sing you a lullaby and you can fall back asleep As I clean you off and make you perfect once more. Oh Angel, don't scream. Your voice cannot take it. You're falling fast, Angel, And I can't catch you. Oh Angel, how I wish I can catch you. But this time, do you want to be saved? |
| lord voldemort. Salute You in Your Grave Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 2404 | Artist Boy. Canvas once so pure and clean now tainted with the ugliness of sin. Color is his cover-up as he tries to hide the scars. The acrylic is peeling while he cowers and hides from the whispers. "Do not fear us, Hero," they say, "we only want your perfection." Perfection is make-up; perfection is sin, and that is what they want. A paintbrush is merely his shield and ink is his addiction. The pen is no longer mightier than the sword. Not when the wielder is so unholy and shaken. Canvas once so pure and clean now tainted with the ugliness of sin. Color is his cover-up as he tries to hide the scars. |
| lord voldemort. Salute You in Your Grave Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 2404 | Doll. In the mirror, you can see The reflection of a figurine. A doll; a toy; used at its expense. Only the mirror can see its tears. Plastic, wooden, or made of skin; A play-thing posed and forced to win, Then thrown away as though a germ. Look away at the cruelty. Beaten, bruised, black and blue, Look at what they have done to you. A living doll, yet so surreal, Please don't let it be a dream. No one cares, no one thinks, Let's work out all of your kinks. Tests, failures, and admirations, Glue can't fix you now. And in the mirror, you can see The reflection of a figurine. A doll; a toy; nothing more But the man you once knew, and the boy that was once you. |
| blow Bleeding on the Floor Age: - Gender: Female Posts: 1137 | Holy crap. Those are amazing. Soldier Boy is my favorite. They are all so beautiful. |
| lord voldemort. Salute You in Your Grave Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 2404 | Thank you. (: |
| lord voldemort. Salute You in Your Grave Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 2404 | Mr. Piano Man. Play us a song, Mr. Piano Man. Tap the ebony and ivory with Those docile digits of yours, Mr. Piano Man. 'Cause your stage-time is slipping and we need that tune. Turn down the lights and adjust The speakers, for the show is just beginning. Play us a song, Mr. Piano Man, Oh please, play us a song. Those notes of yours are dancing And playing around you, Cheerful and blissful and unaware Of their much-too-soon deaths. Keep playing that song, Mr. Piano Man. Don't stop till you've reached your end. Stay away from the concept of murder; Keep back from the pure weakness of "The End." Play us a song, Mr. Piano Man. Tap the ebony and ivory with Those docile digits of yours, Mr. Piano Man. 'Cause your stage-time is slipping and we need that tune. You don't deserve such a lonely place, Mr. Piano Man. The spotlights may hit you but you're still by yourself With only your instrument as company... Keep hitting those keys, Mr. Piano Man. Don't cease it now! Don't take your final bow! The show has only begun! And the lights flicker on, the audience applauds, and you take your leave. Mr. Piano Man, Mr. Piano Man, please come back. An encore? A wave? A joke? Stay with your only friend, sir; He's all by himself too. Play us another song, Mr. Piano Man. Tap the ebony and ivory with Those docile digits of yours once more, Mr. Piano Man. 'Cause your stage-time is gone and we need that sweet, sweet tune again. |
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