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My dark times
#1
Here i will post some of my poetry that is parts of me, i've written it 2 and half years ago, some are dark poems but also light the first one i posted is here and it's the third i wrote, this one i'm sharing now is the second i wrote.

Unknown




Foreign

Alienated.

Desolation.

Rejected.

Lost.

Unknown.

Tomb with no memoria,

without firstname without lastname,

house without yard.

One heavy song,

one sad poem,

one pitiful soul,

one dead hand and one empty heart...

Unknown...

unknown city and priest,

foreign language and incomprehensible,

hope... sick and bitter,

dead body and fading suit...

Unknown time,

damned-heavy burden...

Tormented soul,

immesurable sorrow for one girl,


under the sweet pear tree.
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#2
very good Dre! like it, not so dark like the one you posted in my thread, but is also very beautiful!
To be simple is to be great
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#3
Dark times, indeed. But a great piece. Thank you for sharing.
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#4
Nix and Sharp thank you, i will share more soon, cheers
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#5
I love the style used here; so powerful in its apparent simplicity. A very nice one, Drek. Please keep posting!

Ivan
"Let my worship be within the heart that rejoiceth, for behold: all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals."
The Goddess -
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#6
Thank you Ivan, i apreciate what you think, here is the next small part it explains a bit about the merciless hunter in Wolf 
and thank you Sharp and nix for the help

Torturer




Pain.

Terrible unbearable pain.

Tearing apart of his psychophysical appearance,

Bodily and thoughtful.

Lonely.

Rejected.

Forgotten from the world,

Forgotten from his kin,

Forgotten from his birth.

Ah unruly time,

You dreadful torturer.

STOP!

WAIT!

Stop the seconds, minutes,

Hours, days, months,

Stop the years.

You depersonalized his death, you took away his immortality.

STOP!

Let him taste the nectar of immortality,

Let him become a titan, a hero, a god.

But you can't hear, can you.

You are TIME.

Proud and insensitive torturer of the human body, soul and idea.

Torturer of all touchable and untouchable attributes of the suffering being,

called human.
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#7
Shadows


Shadows
Day,
night...


Endless despair and internal weakness,
various faces,
sad looks,
countless watery eyes.


People,
inhumans,
bloodthristy monsters,
goddamned bastards,
trail not to be found of yours,
voice not to be heard of yours,
word not to be read of yours...


Dark minds,
soultakers,
malicious people...


You are not humans,
there is no heart inside your chest,
your minds are full of darkness,
your souls are dead...
You are shadows,
dark,
faceless,
convicted to suffer forever,
and someone elses happiness to fold,
someone elses love to kill,
the hellishness of your cruelty you feed...
You are shadows,
not the night tales and silhouettes,
but vicious and bodies burnt to ashes,
holes of grief,
swallowing happiness and life,
spreading fear...


Poor tiefs that steal happiness,
roguish killers of love,
Freaks of evil, weakness
and disturbance.


Inhumans,
cold mirrors of shame and terror...
Shadows,
The night is natural darkness, while the human becomes
gloomy and dark with his great works-atrocities!
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#8
Love this last one Dre, for me the best one so far!!!
To be simple is to be great
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#9
thank you Nix, i'm glad you love it, more are comming
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#10
Blade 



I feel the coldness,
metal supstance penetrating my frail body,
I feel the pain,
it pokes me,
from the inside it eats me,
from the outside it kills me.
I feel the warmness from the shed blood,
blood mixed with tears,
the last warmness of life,
i lose the light.
I cannot think anymore,
what was meant to be done,
is done long time ago.
It was done at the time when the cold blade penetrated my weak chest.
Deep slash,
the link between the heart and soul is cracked.
Eruption of red flood,
blood,
creepy warmth before the eternal coldness.
I put an end to the misery and morbidness,
loneliness,
from the miserably lived years.
Cowardly,
yes maybe, but maybe not.
I didin't do that to be judged, sentenced,
cursed and pitied.
This fatal act is my salvation,
my escape from the horrors i lived,
from the terrors, physical and mental.
I did that to free my self,
to free my self from the shackles and chains of the vicious destiny.
I couldn't stand anymore,
too much misery and viciousness gathered in my soul,
the darkness swoop my thoughts,
my spirit faded,
my strenght drained.
Weakness,
impotence,
maybe yes, maybe not...
This much of a hellish burden i carried,
even if i was eternal,
i was going to perish.
The blade is my freedom,
the word is my legacy,
both of them,
appreciate them equaly.
Learn from the words,
remember the blade,
and correct the world for you and for me...
Create and make for you and for me,
make love,
so that my freedom was not futile,
that's how i will win the war,
but i lost the battle,
the war i will win...
My legacy will save me from the eternal OBLIVION.
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