Blood On My Hands

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Plants with pants

Sounds awesome tbh😁🌿👖

5 posts! YAYYY!

The Dark Empress

She was born with a purpose to create, But the stars spoke of a prophecy; That she would leave destruction in her wake.

Born under the moonlight, Her eyes as dark as the night, Her innocence went alight, Led astray from her painless life.

Tortured, hunted and betrayed she was, Couldn’t find a soul who would see who she really was; Depressed she ran away, Found the dark to understand her dismay. Comforted by it subtle warmth, It led her to her kingdom’s silver porth.

She grew more knowledgeable by the day, Till she was able; To rule the land where the dead stay.

Many came to try and conquer her land, But when they came, They met their end, with no accolade; By a touch of her hand, Their bodies turned to little more than grains of sand.

She wasn’t evil, just deeply misunderstood, Only the dark knew she was still good; None knew the pain she endured, Abandoned at birth, Barely found anything to fill the dearth.

She found solace nevertheless, The dark with her, Made her The Dark Empress.

Someone Like You

You're my next-door neighbour, I knew you since we were kids, I gave you six-dollars for your cheesy movies, I do love how you kissed me. Red hair, green eyes and a good taste in tunes, There really isn't someone like you.

I love your little quirks and ballet slippers, I love how you practise the piano even now, Playing Adele on a four-chord loop. I did a cartwheel for you We bought you white and green tees, Ans I bought you pink converse shoes. Red hair, green eyes and my baseball hoodie, There really isn't someone who loves you like me.

The secret hideout, marshmallows on a stick, You smoking a cherry cigarette, Your cat who doesn't go outside, Otis, my doggy boy. Red hair, green eyes, the white dress on you, I love our Soundtrack because it reminds me of you.

I confess I hogged the Spot only to talk to you, Sat on the porch to hear you play, I can't tell you how sad I was, When you lost your mother that way. Your cute little owl dress, Your little 'the Diner' lie, The daisies on your hip, I never want to make you cry. Red hair, green eyes, talking to your mother on a run, I know you drink black coffee, I know you beam like the sun.

Little Libby Loo on prom night, looked like an angel from heaven, And I wanted to punch our good friend Mike. Her loopy cursive on the porch, Marshmallows and CDs, Liz rambling over a lost penny. Dark hair, dark eyes, I'm Wesley, There isn't someone like you, Libby Loo, And now I can say you love me too.

A Doggy in the Balcony

There’s a doggy in the balcony, And there is a lovely book in front of me. Why should I pay attention to thee, When it will only result in misery.

The warmth of the bark, loud and clear, Stopped the busy workers, to shed a tear, Stopped the ramblings of an eccentric seer, Let a smile play on the lips of a friend most dear.

The young pup’s bark so joyful and lively, Hints a break from despair, A ray breaking from a bank of clouds, Oh so slightly.

The doggy in the balcony, And the book in front of me, Makes our lips turn up and smile, Smile a smile so lovely.

The Thimble of an Elf

I wear a thimble to protect me from blows I can't see the enemy, But I got to fight anyway I suppose.

My thimble's a bit battered Worn down by old wounds I might need to get a new one Till then this will do.

My kingdom depends on me I guess so, Haven't heard from them in many moons.

I fight, waving about a needle I feel the enemy's presence They wonder why I haven't given up hope.

I cut down through a couple of bushes And there are the foes standing tall They don't look all that scary Just a bit tired, that's all.

I recognize them I think I've heard their voices before I take off my thimble Strangely soothed by their song.

They say they're my demons Trying to help me find a better end I believe them For they are my only friends.

They accept me, make me feel safe, So much so, without my thimble I still feel brave.

I don't think I'll go back to the kingdom For the foes are now my friends No matter what someone says I'll stay with them till the end.

Hi! Here's a poem!

A Napkin

I feel like I'm a blank canvas, a sheet of paper, the napkin you use to clean up spilled coffee. A blank slate, to be filled with wondrous images, colours and blends. An artist sits down, struck with a thought, and precedes to sketch, doodle or create a new masterpiece. After they're done drawing on the napkin that is me, no one carries me back home. They throw me in the bin. It doesn't matter how great the art is, for the canvas is a napkin and must be thrown away. Forever forgotten. Forever lost. And the cycle repeats. Artist creates art and throws the napkin away. Everyone sees the art, but no one sees the canvas. The canvas is forgotten. Disposable.  The canvas is the real picture that everyone refuses to see.

Onwards on the Race of Life

My heart flutters when you’re near, Onward on the race of life; No one knows if you’ll be mine.

Another year passes by, Morning to dusk every time, Onward on the race of life, Umbrella of yours, hiding us from the, Rain of time.

Seas could not match my blue, but Arisen by you in me, your Ruby hues, Thank you for saying that you admired me, Hopefully that lasted and you haven’t forgotten me; An abyss in which I lie, Kindle a fire, so we shall not freeze in the darkness of the night.

I imagine a life with you, then without,

Lest, I lose you or you go on a different route, Onward on the race of life; Velvet you lips are, and your soul an, Esther in my eyes.

You looked at me that day, in your eyes a feeling I could not place; Onward on the race of life; Umbrella in your hand and in your other, mine.

A Tale of Tree

I write this as I sit under a tree, It’s beauty, a specimen of nature, you see; It’s flower, so warm and bright, Like the friend who stays with you, On a summer’s night. Its leaves, so dainty and green, Just like a ballerina’s ‘petit’. The way it sways in the wind, so light and sweet, Reminds me of carolers on New Year’s Eve. It has stories left untold, The rings held in the trunks, old. Its branches like a friendly embrace amidst a crowd, Its tender touch to erase all foul. I bid farewell to thee my tree, My tree of tales, A tale of tree.