The World Ends With YouThe sky's not the limit, it's just a viewThe World Ends With You by justakid93
Make mount olympus open up for you
Silver's not enough for the midas touch
The world's all yours and it ends with you
Losing ItI'm kind of going crazy,Losing It by WordOfChen
I'm caught inside my mad mind.
Ten different things weigh me down, but I'm still fine!
The words are coming slowly, my mind is on a slur.
I can't string this poem, because the brain is on a blur!
And I get so frustrated, I tear away at skin;
The hair is falling down and the voices make a din!
I wanna shut them out, but I can't find a key,
So all that I can do is simply shut away the ME.
2012 Her final songMy tired eyes have seen the World more than a billion times, a world I possess but can no longer call mine.2012 Her final song by Th3-C0unt3ss
It used to obey my every command. It cowered in fear yet ate from my hand.
It worshipped me with great admiration. Before, I say, the Contamination.
The infestation of parasites, that took over my world and challenged my might.
The Earth, my world, my planet, my son...Look at what these parasites have done!
They've cut out your lungs; the plants and the trees! Polluted your blood; The rivers and Seas!
My beautiful world, my dearest creation. My final call will soon rid you of this damned infestation...
The floods in the west and the fires in the east, are just the starter of my magnificent feast!
I'll burn the land and I'll boil the seas! Make the mountains tremble to shake off these fleas.
No nuclear blast nor atom bomb, can stop me from singing my final song.
Wind, rain and fire...my fatal melody.
Do you hear that humans? Mother Nature's symphony.
stutter and waltzwe used to dance, you and I:stutter and waltz by MistressofQuills
you with your piano fingers
and dice knuckles,
me with my stutter
and veins like spidery tattoos
I used to shudder when you sang;
it always sounded as though
the music caught at your throat
the same way a sob did:
bursting past the hitch
with just as much force,
all the tremulous emotion,
but none of the tears
I used to ask you,
do bilinguals dream
in only one language?
and you would smile,
all eye crinkles and baby dimples,
and say, sometimes dreams
aren’t structured by language,
so no – sometimes we dream in three.
and I would frown,
trying to remember my dreams.
you used to complain
that your eyes were boring
compared to mine of cobalt or navy
or ice or storm or sea,
depending on what the sun
decided to reflect off of that day;
but I always smiled and protested –
with that raven hair and olive skin,
your eyes were glittering obsidian
in the evening glow of distant city lights
or milk-chocolate on a cloudy day
or luminous c
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