Words and Rhymes

August 13, 2013 § 1 Comment

 Untitled 8:

I speak words as empty as a ghost’s shadow in the air,
I watch them hide from ears, whispers lost in despair.
I see them roll away for they hold a darkness they can’t bare.
But when I try to leave, I feel their letters pull my hair.

They chase me, rape me, they’re me and I am none.
I exist. I’m dead. I am a void from which I can’t run.
What’s a pulse with no heart to undo what I’ve done?
Over, finished. All that’s needed is a hole to rest upon.

Like a bad trip, I see gods who hate me and whom I love.
Underneath their tears, I’m a sad creature of the above.
I’m eaten by their sight, it’s only them I am made of.
They take me off and let me fall, like a pretty silk glove.

A waste of blood, a meaningless corpse in disguise.
Each breath is the assassin of the beauty in my eyes.
I hide my face behind the romantic smoke of lies.
I hide my dead soul beneath the dirty sheets of rhymes.

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I didn’t feel much but just what I felt was enough.
Never did I think I could be this weak and tough.
Couldn’t quite understand what was happening,
So I just enjoyed the state I was so deep in.
Provided by her touch was a euphoric danger.
Numb was my heart, yet I intensely held her.
In her arms, a wonderfully peaceful vertigo
I whispered and begged her never to let go.
The anarchy in our minds were constant torment,
We shut my brain off for the sake of a moment.
I wish we lived that brilliant instant forever
Of naughts filled with a passionate fever.
To hell with the tales of romances and happiness!
I spent an evening in paradise with my fucked up self.

Ghizlane Radi

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