pen_and_paper

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Believe in me, help me believe in anything.

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  • pen_and_paper 19w

    Sad but true.

    A man ending
    with getting bludgeoned,
    like gone solitary way
    all his life,

    Population, pollution, power,
    promises, pain, people, p's
    all are poisons,
    it's none of their business,
    his urge to die alone,
    a search for him
    like he never was lost.

    Didn't see
    who pulled the trigger,
    he was shot twice,
    He admitted he was fine,
    Twice.

    the two ways out man,
    a shadow cut in half,
    trip trapped across
    the four corners
    of my room,
    the fluidity, like hole
    in the heart
    dabbed from a knife
    stinkin' more of wounds
    than vegetables,
    like wild beast eaten alive
    by the wild dogs,
    like a monkey,
    chased and trapped
    teared apart in halves
    by chimpanzees,
    like hot molten gold
    poured on skin
    like the nails uncovered
    stripped from fingers.

    Domination, dignity,
    dreams, demons,
    dismay, despair,
    damn damn damn,
    do die,

    Everything dissolves,
    into a
    disagreement,
    like death being blind,
    not the law,
    law is foolish
    man made,
    death is natural
    not partial.

    Preachings how it was
    supposed to
    mentally stimulating
    humiliating and challenged
    killed and exchanged

    A man dies
    who stood on the legs
    of pride and glory
    dies bending his knees
    the philosopher is dead,
    It's sad,

    But true.

    ©pen_and_paper

  • pen_and_paper 20w

    Hydraulic pump/brain damage

    Even though rain falls
    once in a while
    awaked and unafraid
    unaffected as supposed to be
    a stitch on soul of your words
    which might live forever
    along with the rotting humus.

    Even if the ghost of you
    never sleeps inside my head
    we've been together
    so I'll always forgive you,
    return of people
    are slightly overrated
    and return to places
    a lot underrated
    I won't dare to come home,
    to the telephone pole
    on your streets
    lights on your wall
    sex on the floor
    wrap em standing
    they're falling apart
    gimme a break
    I'm getting peaceful sleep lately.

    Every single time
    I look at your door,
    It feels like
    a memory
    fading layer by layer
    as the minutes unwrapping
    years passing by
    people trying to be father
    mother, a good wife,
    a good bride groom,
    a husband in a long run
    basically
    people trying to be people
    it goes perfect
    till someday
    someday when it rains in their heads
    a brain damage
    for the slightest of fear
    a brain damage
    for the slightest of change.

    I have killed many
    a many memories
    a many horrors
    but ghosts don't die
    they be friends instead.
    It's might be hard to face
    but.

    I tremble yet I see
    I know what killed me
    But I be a true detective
    searching for your death
    a long long
    long long time ago
    inside me.

    ©pen_and_paper

  • pen_and_paper 22w

    Be positive/////B+

    I no longer write
    poems on love
    those dark yellow, yellowishly dark
    pages of a rusted book
    gloomy yet happy
    like witnessing Harry Potter
    for the first time, like
    the odin struggling with surtur
    and then winning it over,
    like wild dogs hunting overpowers
    the pedigree
    like wound healed by itself
    like finding someone new
    and loving em over from the beginning
    like a deep breath after the worst of
    your rock bottom
    like wind piercing through every pore of your body
    like the sound of water sprinkled over
    hot red burning metal
    like an autobiography
    of a dead man
    whom you might touch
    through the pages and the places
    like a love letter
    from the beast to the beauty
    like a new strange species found to balance the eco
    like an endangered plant blooming again
    like the rain after hot humid summer
    like summer after chilled up December

    I don't know what I talk about
    when I talk of you
    it might be the first monsoon
    that shines through your face
    or the grass I saw
    crumbled down your feet
    I forgot,
    everything crumbles
    probably,
    Probability itself is a function of space and time
    cut this line off me
    cause feeling like it
    fills my bone marrow
    pumps life which I must feel
    like you touching me
    through your eyes
    like me dropping my eyelids
    on the floor
    I no longer write poems on love
    like the yellow pages of my old
    long forgotten novel,
    I decided to finish before I met you.

    ©pen_and_paper

  • pen_and_paper 23w

    B U L L E T S

    I think that
    they want me cause they
    would shoot me in the end,
    look at me when they shoot the bullets
    through my head,
    the bag of dirt and girth
    showering down the sand
    on the streets of loneliest town,
    a desert of hope growing cactus
    flooded with no water
    shifting silence on the
    doorstep of the
    six feet deep the Earth
    lying bullet in my head,
    look at me when they put the bullets
    in my head
    one by one
    beneath the Sun
    and moon moving down
    an eclipse making water blackish
    the rain stinging who awaits
    for their lovers
    singing a song of freedom fighter,
    rhyming with the slogans
    of wars and wars which aren't true.

    I got a sense of humor
    for every tragedy they cause
    every pain
    said and done
    every poem written with blood
    I soaked them
    filled inside a bullet
    written my name on it.

    I was someone born with a hole
    in the head
    that being said
    a shadow through me trails
    another one and it goes on
    well
    it's no longer a shadow no more
    it's my color
    it took too long to cover me with
    it won't fade
    with a bullet in my head.

    ©pen_and_paper

  • pen_and_paper 23w

    There was a river down the bay,
    how hard it did hit me everyday,
    I was lost to the beautiful sinister,
    I changed a lot
    to become monster.

    People around seemed so happy all the same,
    I was a wanderer
    a shy monster without a name,
    the monster knew witches,
    knew witchcraft,
    in search of a name i did split in half.

    Ran ran away to the east, sent my other half to West,
    A blacksmith on the village gate caught my interest,
    Oh, ugly man abandoned of fire and rain,
    you're such a poor, give me your name.

    He trembled and cried,
    refused to sacrifice,
    It was tough to convince a-nothing-left-to-lose man it seemed,
    A promise to make him wealthy, let me swing inside him.

    He became popular over the town,
    The king in the city a till-yesterday-clown.
    He grew and grew
    became rich,
    till one day people caught him shouting,
    the monster inside me is getting so big.

    (T B C)

    ©pen_and_paper

    -----------------------------------------------------------------
    Based on a story used in anime *monster*

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    Monster-I

  • pen_and_paper 24w

    Black rose immortal

    ///The return of a dead soldier from the ruined continent of frozen wounds, the return of cold winds from the burning city///

    Moonlight caresses the top of a lonely hill,
    black rose immortalized
    blackened like my naked soul;
    shine ablaze with frost bite scarring my portrait of past life;

    The rocks on moon devoid of faith,
    carried oxygen and treason;
    iron yet to rust, yet to be found,
    water seen nowhere and a grave
    with sight of summer,
    the black rose immortal,
    shines admist the fevered blood,
    injections and vaccination
    of ungodly talk at ungodly hours,
    still calm at mind with peace,
    the black rose stands, yet again.

    Floating on the top most layer of frozen mist,
    holding my wrist in the grip of the air,
    it howls looking me in the eye,
    it won't let me escape until I die,
    they let the black night sleep in my blood,
    the sounds I made, disappeared,
    Obscure, unsettling, unrest,
    reappeared as the thorns,
    of the black rose immortal.

    Once again, they cried,
    the lake, through with I did sail,
    like a morning star,
    I laugh whenever I see them cry,
    I smile when I let them die,
    I told them, I was there,
    when they let the frostbite on my hand freeze,
    and through the fire and flames,
    rose the black rose immortal.

    ©pen_and_paper

  • pen_and_paper 24w

    Inspired from an anime I'd not suggest anyone.

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    Melting snow

    You said you might fade away when I thought it was me fading off with the long lost voices inside my head, I think the same, I just have forgotten to ink em that well.

    It's as beautiful as the fading of spring into autumn or the cold dazzled air into the beginning of summer, it's as beautiful as the crushed childhood into a long endured responsible vision when you begin to smile on your dreams rather than lament the end of em right in front of your eyes.

    I knew you'd fade away eventually but my instincts did beat me miles when I couldn't guess for me the same.

    People come and go, everything changes and I was never sad about it until I couldn't remind your face for once and all.

    I'd always deny every spec of it cause I always knew it won't always be the same.

    ©pen_and_paper

  • pen_and_paper 30w

    I wrote this last night.

    Writing about so long, that's why this lame.

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    Slice of death

    They cry when someone,
    among the community dies
    a subtle death,
    easy or harsh doesn't matter often,
    even you're completely useless,
    people catch feelings,
    if you lift your drop
    of tear and let it touch em
    before it hits the floor.

    They cry in roads
    when someone of their own dies
    death isn't beautiful as they claim,
    when they're pretty far away,
    from the Sunset.

    Death is dark,
    death is end
    of everything you hold,
    your consiousness,
    death is fear
    of being alone
    and what if someone dies twice,
    one for the sorrow of the people,
    another in the afterlife,
    death is a pond
    of marsh,
    You won't see
    in the quicksand.
    Death is the end,
    like a star dying of it's light.

    Death is the spillway of tears,
    and I can't be sadder about life too.

    ©pen_and_paper

  • pen_and_paper 34w

    Griffin-dork

    Rib cage body slam,
    Back ache, dead man.
    Hug plug phone man.
    Silver lining, little plans.

    Heart-less, shirtless,
    Dirty and hurt.
    Smirks till retarded,
    Cries when started.

    Tutor, psychics, psychedelics,
    Poison poisonous ivys.
    Get ten points on every mistake,
    Griffin-dork, life at stake.

    ©pen_and_paper

  • pen_and_paper 35w

    Here's a sad poem about a happy ending.

    Inspired from album, "August and everything after."

    Fiction.



    "If she remembers, she hides it, whenever we meet."

    "I had too much to drink, I didn't think of you."

    Read More

    Take the way home.

    My circus has fallen down to the end,
    What would I change,
    if I could.

    Your fake train is approaching miles to miles,
    your love must been real tonight.
    You were lying, I was thinking,
    And I was drinking.

    Three hundred sixty five days and more,
    you've been trying to love me.
    And I need a fake love,
    I need a real life,
    I need little wine,
    everything else should die.

    Things I remember, things I forget,
    I don't know what to say,
    But I wish this was a small world,
    I'm too lonely for this big town.

    I need fake love.
    And some wine.

    I need fake love.
    Everything else should die.

    ©pen_and_paper