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Martin EZ' Profile

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Legendary Poet

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▲ 60 points in the past 7 days

About Me and My Poetry

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About My Poem
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User

O’ why am I gravitating into the valley of despair?
Extorted into a realm where evil treads.
... continued
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I taste your lips

it spreads a silvery light
... continued
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A Red Rose I beheld with my eye
Of radiant beauty I cannot deny
With silky pedals O’ so soft
... continued
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Why have I been cast down to earth;
to be trampled under the feet of injustice
to see and hear unspeakable things,
... continued
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I felt
the reality
of a life
... continued
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O’ wretched fool what is thy fate, thy destiny.
For thus thou art shackled in human strife,
As regrets bleed seconds off thy weary life.
... continued
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User
O’ wretched fool what is thy fate, thy destiny.
For thus thou art shackled in human strife,
As regrets bleed seconds off thy weary life.
Tis’ thee that feels dishonored; Tis’ time to leave this mortality
.
Thy soul wracked with sorrow by horrific deeds;
reckless reflection thus beguiled thereof.
Hence the power of silence that’s trampled thy love.
Thus from this slander, never fooled, it proceeds.

Thy wields the knife with thine unsteady hand.
The world’s faileth thee, thus it’s meant to be.
For tis’ a primal drum beats that no one sees.
An abstract justice only thee can understand.

Therefore breathe thy dense mist of death,
Tis’ hallucinations that speaketh within thy mind.
Tis’ solace thou seeketh, thou cannot find;
does thou feeleth the knife inside thy chest.

Chasing thy dreams that do not exist
O' thy misery that still persists.
For sweetest things turn sour by thy deeds.
O' thy soul, how slow it bleeds.

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User
O’ wretched fool what is thy fate, thy destiny.
For thus thou art shackled in human strife,
As regrets bleed seconds off thy weary life.
Tis’ thee that feels dishonored; Tis’ time to leave this mortality
.
Thy soul wracked with sorrow by horrific deeds;
reckless reflection thus beguiled thereof.
Hence the power of silence that’s trampled thy love.
Thus from this slander, never fooled, it proceeds.

Thy wields the knife with thine unsteady hand.
The world’s faileth thee, thus it’s meant to be.
For tis’ a primal drum beats that no one sees.
An abstract justice only thee can understand.

Therefore breathe thy dense mist of death,
Tis’ hallucinations that speaketh within thy mind.
Tis’ solace thou seeketh, thou cannot find;
does thou feeleth the knife inside thy chest.



Chasing thy dreams that do not exist
O' thy misery that still persists.

For sweetest things turn sour by thy deeds.

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User
In the serene silence before its flight
Amidst the shifting shadows of the night
falls the sparkling winter snow-silently
... continued
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User
When through the darkest forests I wander
and through the troubled waters I go
in tempest tumult my heart does flounder
... continued
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