FireThe fiery warmth.The sparks of red and orange.Destructive, passionate, yet mesmerizing.In an instant, it can take away a life through its destructive ways.But yet, it can save a life with its warm embrace.The fire spreads.The tongues of flame licking at the fuel,Its light throwing shadows dancing across your face.Dangerous, yet safe.Angry, but calm.Harmless, until one spark lets loose.Then the fire is free.The master of chaos,Hidden beneath a façade.Wait until the veil crumbles,To reveal its true power
The CycleThe Cycle.When you were little, you were alone.When you were a child, you feared her.When you were a teenager, you hated her.When you were an adult, she broke you.When I was little, I was alone.When I was a child, I feared you.When I was a teenager, I hated you.I’m an adult now, you broke me.My biggest fear is when the next one comes.When she is little, she will be alone.When she is a child, she will fear me.When she is a teenager, she will hate me.When she is an adult, I will break her.When I was little, I didn’t know.When I was a child, I understood.When I was a teenager, I made a plan.I’m an adult now, the next one will not come.The cycle ends with me…
The Hacker_The CurseThe HackerThey're saying it's a hacker;He is haunting souls and files,He is watching our profiles,He is stealing our wordsHe is controlling our dots;He doesn't care so for us,He's always there on our flash,He's our evil dirty part,He's the virus of the art,We can all become his dart,In the day, in the dark;Can't be controlled,Cannot be scrolled,He's the curse of all us; ALL!!!The CurseHe's the curse of all us; ALL!!!Cannot be scrolled,Can't be controlled,In the day, in the dark;We can all become his dart,He's the virus of the art,He's our evil dirty part,He's always there on our flash,He doesn't care so for us,He is controlling our dots;He is stealing our wordsHe is watching our profiles,He is haunting souls and files,They're saying it's a hacker;
Wrong Place, Wrong TimeThere was a terrible event in the North-West of the city just days ago, in the small hours of last Sunday morning. The two girls were not drunk, but they were happy. They had spent an emotional evening celebrating the elder's birthday. They were on the main road, heading for a cab office nearby. They paid no heed to the dark sedan that was approaching them slowly.The first thing anybody knew about what was going on, was when two deafening percussions assailed their ears. Immediately there was a mighty roar of acceleration. The sedan thundered into the night. The elder girl was prone on the sidewalk, her life blown away. You can imagine how a brief paralysis of shock gave way to a panicked bedlam, soon augmented by the converging klaxons of the first responders, medics, armed policemen.As they woke, the city's sleeping denizens learned of this atrocity, and of the detective's first conclusion, that the dead girl was killed by “mistake”; those bullets were
InsomniaThere's a party in my headAs I close my eyes to sleep.Little creatures and monsters,Oh, back and forth they creep.On silent tip-toes they walk,Playing melodies in my mind.Finding caverns I have closed,Putting my life on rewind.My mind is somewhere else,But in vain I toss and turn.Little goblins man the lights,And the ghosts try to learn.It's all a big, loud, unruly mess,This untamed party in my head.I try and shut them down,But back and forth they tread.I'm never going to get any sleepAs long as they're awake.They take my tired thoughtsDown every path they can take.Oh, what would I give to haveOne silent and sleep-filled night.But that will never happen,Although I wish with all my might.There's a party in my headAs I close my eyes to sleep.Only when the sun comes upDo they never make a peep.
A rose for his freedom(French version below)Last member of a decimated lineage, gangrenousHe assisted his relative till the end of the roadHimself imprinted all his life with this fatality. From the unreachable sky fall feathers of grief;His weary soul takes his ultimate breath, hollow and heavyAs a grave. Finding his new cage forever.The last whisper of this redbreast without wings.On this funeral granite, a dropped rose;His dreamed freedom, late, cruelOnly the cradle of Death was able to give it to him.Une rose pour sa libertéDernier membre d'une lignée décimée, gangrenée Il assista les siens jusqu'au bout du chemin,Lui-même empreint à vie de cette fatalité. Du ciel inaccessible tombent des plumes de chagrin ;Son âme lasse pousse son ultime souffle, creux et lourdComme une tombe. Trouvant sa nouvelle cage pour toujours.Le dernier murmure de ce rouge-gorge sans ailes.Sur ce granit funéraire, une
IsolationLocked away in dreamless sleep,a darkness without thoughts.The feeling of claustrophobia,like cold, damp graveyard plots.Solitude or confinement,that line is yours to draw.But fore me pure isolation,is the only thing I saw.A prison of my own mind,in the company of myself.For all my dreams are in a box,bound, and on a dusty shelf.
PolarisIs it harder to close or open a book?Certainly at a look, Seven PMin September is somewhere to be.The hardening light, the steady cessation,the Southbound birds - gliding from the station.April ages more subtly,with a wholly crueller edge.The ease of unfolding at Seven AMseems granted for everything new.But not among these arrowing swifts -are the Stones, and by degrees, you.
Burning me down(French version below)Burning abyss collapse While my soul is getting dirty of an ash gray color,I see myself consumed by the flame of my dreams again.Obsession, hysteria, frenzy, obsessive fear, furySoak up my nights coated with a sweet madness,Devoured until purple dawn.Here come vindictive and pleasurable daytimesWhere only ruins and reefs remain - Slaughtered by this arrow,And your image branded with a red-hot iron on the silk of my skin.Cradled with my illusions, sick of my feelings,I'm dying to see you since the day I met you,Where you took me prisoner of this dream.Me brûler toute entièreLes abysses ardentes s'abattentPendant que mon âme se salit d'un gris cendré, Je me vois de nouveau consumée par la flamme de mes rêves.Obsession, hantise, hystérie, frénésie, furieS’imprègnent sur mes nuits enduites d'une douce folie,Dévorée jusqu'à
In The Eyes Of A DreamerRusset leaves dance down from opal trees,Pirouetting prettily in the midnight breeze.Under this ancient bough I write,Poems of exquisite bliss and beauty,Painting scenes of romantic serenity.Ochre sun bursts over vermilion fields,Dazzling daintily those canopy like shields.Below it's eternal radiance I muse,Laments of direful amour and ambiguity,Sketching tales of dramatic fluidity.Cerulean waves linger along a saffron shore,Lazing luxuriously in a celestial downpour.Beside it's naïve essence I compose,Idylls of rustic mirth and majesty,Capturing dreams of artistic virtuosity.
InsomniaI lie upon my back tonight,And watch the distant skyAlone, I watch the setting moonAs time flows slowly byA lullabye upon my lipsA hand upon my heartA gleaming tear within my eyeA cry yet to departWhy must I lie forgotten here?Cold and so alone?Sad denzien of darkest nightsNo place to call my ownHold on to each departing breathCan you feel my fear?Can you bring me back to dreaming?Or say goodnight here?Fading to black, I feel afraidWhy must I testify?For one day, you''ll forget my nameAbandon me, surviveSweet whispers in my ears, denyAnd drag me down belowWill you come running after meOr will you turn and go?They'll never see, I'll never beThe one they come to saveLamb on the altar, all for youAnd fall into the graveBut then again, nightmares do endI feel your warm embraceCatch me as I'm falling downAnd bring me back to graceYou stop my pain, and wash my tearsBring me into the lightAnd even though my fears remain,Now gentle is the night
Le temps des larmes(English version below)Son bourreau vit dans ses yeux de jaisUne désolation si profonde, à se noyer dedans.Un regard qui implorait une justice plus juste que celle de la faux.Cela ne dura qu'un instant, mais cette âme perdueGrava son existence achevée sur le basalte de son coeur. Son bourreau en perdit le goût de sa vie, le goût du meurtre.Son humanité enfouie au plus profond de lui faisait-elle enfin surface?Frappant ses côtes telle un tambour de guerre semant destruction.Désormais, sur ses épaules pesait le poids pesant de la mort.Rentrant d'une journée plus sombre qu'une nuit de cendres;Son bourreau, de ses mains lourdes encore tremblantesEnleva son funeste masque humidifié de perles de larmes,Puis s'endormit dans son dernier sommeil.Time for tearsHis executioner saw in his jet eyes A desolation so profound, that you drown in it.A gaze that begged a fairer justice than th
A child in 1945An unfortunate child, walking aloneThrough the streets of despairWhere there is nothing left but ruins.War, war has wrecked everythingFrom her hometown to her infantile fragile heart.On her left, the school where she used to playOn her right, her friend's home she used to visitOn the ground, so many corpses that she can't count up to this number.Ahead, the road to another hellBehind, all those vanished memories.She is too young to understand war's purposeFor her, it's just pointless mass murderAnd still she cries endlessly in her cold loneliness.The only thing she understands is that her whole family is goneIn front of her very eyes.The image of her mother's life extinguishing graduallyIs causing much fear and suffering than you could ever guess.It seemed like every citizen passed away at the same timeIn a stately gruesome chorus of yellings.She starts realizing that she is alone, alone against pain.And yet she still hopes, she hopes for reliefShe knows it exists,
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