A single rose, alone in the dark--
Untouched, but not forgotten--
A solitary figure in the dark.
Beautiful bold red blossom.
A feud heard in the distant background,
A long stem with sharp thorns,
One prick, blood is spilt--
A passion and forbidden love,
Secrets hidden, embedded in this rose;
Hate, Jealousy, Death---
As an icy wind passes,
Hot hurtful rays of the burning sun,
Makes its way.
Then there was coldness---
A burning desire,
A final farewell.
There sits the dying rose,
Withered and torn.
A vial, a dagger,
Petals now fallen,
Swept away by the wind.
Remembrance of a classic tragedy---
Surrounded by a loud silence-
Silent---
Silent as a late night in a small town,
Silent as the full moon overlooking the lake,
Silent as the snow flakes falling from the sky,
Silent as a rose blooming in beauty---
Silent----
Silent as a person's deep fears,
Silent as a mute's inability to speak,
Silent as the waiting girl looking out the window,
Silent as a book lost and never opened---
Silent----
Silent as a shy person's opinion,
Silent as a classroom without students or teachers,
Silent as a new perspective is lost to fear,
Silent as a trust between best friends---
Silent----
Silent as an artist's spark of creativity,
Silent as a girl's inner emotion,
There stands,
Stands this-
This old,
Old willow.
Willow tree-
Tree trunk,
Trunk bark-
Bark hard,
Hard old,
Old story.
Story told,
Told something,
Something new.
New perspective-
Perspective taught,
Taught learned-
Learned observe,
Observe nature.
Nature horizon,
Horizon beyond-------
Windows to the Soul by MidnightMoonlight16, literature
Literature
Windows to the Soul
In this mirror I stare,
In darkness, two eyes stare back.
An integral part of perception,
But are things really as they seem---
Looking outside by the window,
Darkness surrounds the land,
Much like a clouded judgment,
Tricked by the eye's perception.
Unable to see into the darkness,
As if blind to see the obvious--
Not all things are what they seem---
Some things as clear as daylight,
Now shrouded by a cloud of doubt.
The eyes are quick to judge,
With reflexive reactions to what is seen.
Not everything is what they appear to be--
Questions and answers hidden away from plain sight.
And veiled eyes are willing to be open, and
I say you don't understand,
I say you don't try,
I say you don't care.
You say I am too young,
You say I will understand,
You say I am naïve and ignorant.
Don't you say I am wrong,
Don't you say I am ignorant,
Don't you say my opinions don't matter.
I say you don't know what I go through.
I say you are ignorant not me;
I say you are the one to learn not me---
There stands this old willow tree. When you come up close to this tree trunk, you get a feeling of immensity. How something so connected to nature can be preserved through time. The ridges are hard and have no distinct pattern. The lines twist and turn with no direction at all. Do these features tell a story? The long leafy branches hanging along the side create a darkness, but yet with streaks of sunlight peaking through. The tree trunk has an illuminating glow, something not easily noticed unless closely observed. This would be the perfect place of solitude, alone with your thoughts. Somewhere restful and peaceful, an admiration of nature a
Rooftop Confessionals by MidnightMoonlight16, literature
Literature
Rooftop Confessionals
Under a dark, clear starry sky,
Sat four girls on a porch rooftop.
Cold fall temperature that night,
But they didn't care.
Emotions and secrets bottled up,
Hidden from the world's view--
Like a champagne bottle, almost exploding when shook.
Tears brimmed our eyes,
A sisterly bond missed.
Not necessarily restored a friendship, but strengthened.
A trust, a confidence,
A memory…
The packed boxes long gone,
The house now settled in,
And the first day of school now gone,
It was a day in 6th grade when I was plagued by the flu,
And idiotically still went to school.
Alessandra someone who didn't even know me,
Helped me through the
There is always a mask I wear,
It's not the kind where you point and stare.
It's the kind where it's invisible and unable to see,
Just to hide from people the real true me.
A part of me people will never know,
Hidden with me this mask that doesn't show.
Maybe it's just to avoid getting hurt,
Scared of a sitation I mean to avert.
Sometimes I don't know what to do,
Be myself or pretend and wear this mask for you.
On the other hand is what they say is true?
Who should I lsten to me, them, or you?
Then I realize this can't be right,
This is who I am, I need to put up a fight.
Because in the end this is what you get, just plain me,
A Thousand Words by MidnightMoonlight16, literature
Literature
A Thousand Words
A thousand words I want to say,
Sometimes left hidden day by day.
A thousand words left unsaid,
As I lay and think in the comforts of my bed.
Hidden words I meant to tell,
Later on my mind they dwell.
Silenced thoughts that are unheard,
Sometimes romantic, eccentric, absurd.
Some things I would never reveal,
Such as my innermost thoughts and what I truly feel.
A thousand words a secret within me,
Acting as a defense or reaction, but most people don't see.
What should I do what should I say,
A thousand words unsaid each day.
The day was still early, the sun was not yet up and the beach was surrounded in darkness. The waves were calm with the occasional whisperings of the sea. The sea gulls normally found on the beach were neither seen or heard. The full moon was shining high above illuminating the thick, dense fog floating around. The sand was soft and moist, wet from the morning dew. A light mist covered the beach. Out in the distance, on a small stretch of land, stood an old lighthouse on an edge of a cliff. The lighthouse stood, with the continuous eerie light shining casting an illuminating glow along the beach. The lighthouse seemed to have told a story all
Faint is light at hour of darkness
Whence there lies a mystic phantom
Which no man can ever fathom;
Puppeteer, a form that's timeless
Pulling strings of extant shadows,
Fleeting memory's apparitions.
Strut along the apparitions,
Fallen ground is walked in darkness,
Cloak themselves in living shadows,
Mimic they the formless phantom,
Never to achieve the timeless
State for ever to be fathomed.
Know they not, they cannot fathom
Through the endless apparition,
Know they not what Is that's timeless
Sight restrains them from the darkness
Limits vision from the phantom
Of obscure undying shadow.
Lies, deceit are named of shadow,
Current Residence: Boston Favourite genre of music: Rock, Indie, Classical, Blues, Swing Favourite photographer: Ansel Adams Personal Quote: You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough...
Favourite Writers
Robert Frost, Jane Austin, George Eliot (I like the classics basically)