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Imaginary FriendCloaked with prowling imagination, of which consumes me with every waking moment, laughed upon
For longing illusions brought out by pure innocent amusement, what nothingness to the eye is but a jar
Of enclosed fascination to those at present, what comes and goes is yet believed to be swallowed lost
Foolishness, to such nonsense longs to await my soul, for sorrow after sorrow brings nothing but longing
Whims of pain, and then comes forth out of my dreams my whimsical friend, so fictitious and strange
But as real and energetic as to touch our pound of flesh, now but a memory locked away in the dimness
Of childhood, oh how I wish to bring my misapprehended companion back again……
Plea from the DyingDays into years, I have wasted too much time locked away in pains delight, an innocent soul now lost
Into the wonders of dreams, only now a dying specter enveloped in the mists of phantoms light, tucked
Away to succumb to the shadows, which haunts my soul in this weary dimension, why do you torment
Me now as I am but asleep, but oh how your unsoundness of fun, has turned to mere insanity, which in
Time I am sure will haunt you, and come to remember me, for you have cut off my hopes and dreams,
For I will invade your dreams, can you but open your eyes and see that you have closed a door that will
Never open, for I am gone and shall never return….
Battered RosesNothing now but battered roses fallen to the beatings of society, longing to be saved from such
Departed canvases for now no longer whole but cut in half, torn apart only to see scattered bloody
Pieces floating away amongst the floor, why should I wake when I am half past dead, for ailing misery
Knows no such company, just another pretty face, dying amongst the presence of horrid composers,
Every piece broken off, is the tormenting of a bellowing heart, I pray someone will pick up the pieces
And understand such indisposed sufferings…..
Split PersonalitiesPainted and blind, my face would fill in the spaces, some days would be dark and others filled
With light, bringing forth a total transformation, deceit hiding away mute flesh, with my eyes
Reflecting shattered disarrayed emotions back, would you want to see my true traits as a person?
Would you be satisfied with my true personality, so that it would not grieve you so? such traits or what
You would call personalities, for I cannot seem to control them, for these seem to me but illusions, they
Come to me like masks, waiting to fill in the void, just artifacts of true realism, pushed away in the
Remedies of a secret….
Crown of ClownsI want my innocence back, years have wasted into helms of hate, my doings are now conned into
Wasted youth, crushed with human faith, I shall put on the crown of clowns, only to observe the
Fun, and go along with this twisted, wild card of a game, all I have is the memory of a girl who used
To laugh, now I only laugh with madness for it is now a murdered memory lost in a dream, I am the
Queen with the epitome of nothing but a statue, lost with no more elegance or charm, but an abstract
Of blood and guts, torn from the inside out, I want the world to go away, so I can feel infinity and hide
In the locks of the shadows……..
Shoot to KillShoot to kill for nobody would miss a little person, flying through the midst of such like ones in this
Realm of fallen pieces, who would care for there is no difference between me and them, I am but a
Card lost in the deck of which nobody misses, fighting off the perils of labor, for I am the one beaten
To oblivion, I was born here and I cannot escape, but I will maybe now because I hate this place,
Sickening to be around souls wanting mute attention, being forced to live in this place is forcing me
To be so alone and forgotten…..
Something far worse that chills the blood, a synthetic shell to hold a corpse inside, now
Just a mockery to delusion, wasting away above the surface, turning into lubricants of dust,
Poor doubtless soul, being seen to only terrorize the eyes, broadened amongst human tissue,
Head and body torn apart from the perils of the world, leaving nothing but an already gloomed
Decaying skull, anonymous to the realms of society, allured to the death of the missing......
MadnessThe tent of longing madness, has come to take what life as longed with such sanity, but I do not care
To be freed from such madness, for it has crept back and forth into my soul, and has not seemed to
Escape, locked up into the compliance of filth, engrossed down with nothing more, but a prowling thief
Getting ready to steal the innocence that I have feared for so long, and now I am the one who is going to
Be swallowed up to come to no end inside, of this blackened prison of a shrouding hole…..
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More