Mockingjay

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Always The Same

A single window,
A thousand tears,
Stained in scarlet,
Painted with fear.

The window's sealed shut,
Frosted from the inside,
Purple-blue fingers try to scrape away,
Layer after layer of ice.

There is no escape,
There is no going back,
Its too late to regret,
When your bones begin to crack.

So it begins,
Death comes slow,
Agonizing as always,
But neither friend nor foe.

Under the snow,
Piled up so high,
Were others like you,
That were living to die.

What would you see,
Through the cracked glass,
Was it worth your pain,
Or was it worth your past?

Illusions are cruel,
They tell us sweet lies,
Is that what you saw?
In your last moments of life?

Just like the others,
Just like the rest,
Puppets in motion,
Up until death...

Rouge


I forgot how lovely it was,
The color of liquid rubies,
Nature's hidden treasure,
Released by beautiful tragedies.

The sound of breaking skin,
That sharp sensation that was once lost,
A sharp blade is all you need,
And X marks the spot. 

Breathe in its sickly sweet scent,
Far more intoxicating than any flower that was ever plucked.
Such a sensational phenomena, 
That it was something even mother earth failed to reconstruct. 

Warm when fresh,
Darker when touched by time,
The shadow's nectar, 
Ever so sublime...

There are those whom are entranced by this beauty of beauties,
Their wish was to drown in a sea of scarlet,
Eyes that glisten then fade to nothing,
Completely immersed in this taboo-ed pleasure...

Return

Everything is turning to ashes,
Right before my very eyes,
The light fading like before,
The shadows rise to embrace me.

Hot tears run down a face made of stone,
Only to turn into icicles and shatter like glass,
All that remained were bitter memories,
And mocking tales of a once sweet past.

Though broken, it reflected its dim light,
To finally experience as to what was joy,
After years of sorrow, suffering and darkness,
This miracle that supposedly was sent from up high.

Just a taste,
Just...one... little...tiny...miniscule...taste,
And it was yanked away,
Then left me drained and disgraced.

Was the light all but a tease?
To show us that no such oasis exists?
Sinking our remaining hopes without mercy,
Checking me off as another victim off its endless list...

In this abyss did I lie,
The familiarity, simply intoxicating,
Echoes of crying everywhere,
Penetrating my heart that had already bled itself dry...