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Welcome to WonderlandFalling down, down, down
Spinning 'round and 'round
All around, the ticking of clocks
Such a discordant sound

Right is left and left is right
Night is day and day is night
Up is down and down is up
Life is death and death is life

Voices whisper from every niche
Screams echo and cause a twitch
Claws and teeth threaten to kill
Eyes wild with bliss of such a thrill

Run, hide, fight, or plead
Nothing shall work, nothing you need
The sun and moon will laugh as you cry
As the Queen shrieks her commands to the sky

Blood forms penumbras as heads roll
A cry of defiance with each bell toll
The jury turns in accord, madness shining bright
Their ques

Diamonds And GlassA human soul is like a glass vase. So fragile, so easy to break. Just one touch, and it can shatter into a thousand shards. So many pieces that not even a lifetime would be enough turns of the clock to meld it all back together.

So instead of being glass...

Why don't we turn our souls into diamonds instead?

After all, diamonds are one of the strongest materials to be found in nature that can be shaped into something beautiful.

Who wants to be seen as glass that can be pulverized with the slightest of pressure, when instead you can be viewed as one of the most durable and gorgeous souls in the world?

No More TearsThere is a desert beneath her eyes
Dry, desolate, despairing
Devoid of life; devoid of emotion; devoid of hope;
Now just a broken ravine carved by sorrow
Now just a barren canyon chiseled by fear
Now just a fragmented chasm sculpted by dread
Now just a tearless void
Of emptiness

Mute TranslucenceShe is trapped in a glass box
One which follows her every move
It is always caging her in
With invisible walls so everyone can see her inside
Yet barriers so thick no one can hear her pleas

A cry of desperation rises up from her crystalline prison
A lamenting wail so loud it threatens to shatter the mirrored bulwark

"Why won't anyone listen to me?

She listens for a response
As the crowds continue to rush past her enclosure
All brushing against the invisible walls
All seeming to forget she's there

There is no acknowledgement to her despondent appeal

but s i l e n c e

DreamDon't ever stop feeling what you want to feel. Reel in all the emotions you care to hold deep inside you, and nurture them within your heart. Embrace the sensation of being the only one to truly change your future, as long as you shove past all your doubts and reach the highest capacity your fingers can brush against. Advance towards your goal with your courage for a sword, justice for a shield, and all your hope forging the rest of your armor to brave every adversity you face. Make your passions you have in life happen, as long as you remember to accomplish one simple act.

never
ever
ever
stop

Dreaming.

Written AnatomySkin like dehydrated parchment
Blood like deluged ink
Sink a blade into the seamed veins
And let the words of life all flow free

PulsateWhat is a heartbeat,
without the heart?
What is a dream,
without the conscience?
What is a word,
without the letters?
What is a hope,
without the faith?
What is a soul,
without the self?
What is a kiss,
without the love?

What am I,
without you?

Her Aesthetic CrusadeShe paints a world of crimson midnight,
and you watch the sanguine colors drip down her skin.
Wilted rose petals stain her wrist scarlet,
and canyons are carved deep in porcelain flesh.
"Battle scars," she tells you simply with a flick of the paintbrush,
meticulous as she resumes her sanguine masterpiece.
"Have you won?" you ask,
though you already know the answer.
She smiles fondly and holds up the tormented easel,
for all to see the newly wrought crevice of flaming burgundy.
"How can one win this war against the burning red, my friend,
when you can barely win the battle against yourself?"

Flights of FancyI believe in
the impossible
the childish
the unseen
the absurd
the silly

I believe in lands somewhere over the rainbow
I believe in worlds hidden under the rabbit hole
I believe in kingdoms on the other side of the wardrobe
I believe in enchanted forests where animals talk in riddles
I believe in palaces where wizards entertain immortal kings

I believe in
fairies
dragons
unicorns
spirits
elves

in the magic and wonder that only a child's eyes can see
in the universes hopes and dreams can create with a single thought

I believe in everything that so many say are imaginary; in everything that so many people scoff at and call me fanciful and

A Scholarly MasqueradeSometimes I like to pretend,
I'm like the Mariana Trench with my words.

That my fingers construct such eloquence,
as abyssal and profound as the Grand Canyon.

Yet the truth of the matter is that,
my heart has not been pulverized into dust.

I am about as succint and poignant,
as a rusted bucket.

Heart of Iceshe wishes for a heart of ice

a heart to hide her fears

she wishes for a heart of ice

a heart to freeze her tears

but if her heart of ice meets fire

then perhaps it will thaw

for if her heart of ice meets fire

she will surely pour out her emotions raw

Mother EarthShe has suns for eyes,
and oceans for tears,
a blade of grass for each hair,
and wisdom beyond her years.

Rage like an earthquake,
sorrow as deep as the sea,
madness funneled like a hurricane,
joy blooming so vividly, kings fall to their knee.

Her skin is a motley,
with hues so dark and bright,
she sleeps during the day,
and lays awake at night.

She has the universe for a heart,
and the cosmos burn in her soul,
however, humanity's blindness,
is at last taking its toll.

Sweet EmilyEmily is six years old.

Emily lives with Mommy and Daddy in a big house.

Emily doesn't have very many friends because she doesn't go to school, but that's okay!

Emily has Tabitha! Tabitha and Emily are best friends. Tabitha looks like Emily, too! They both have blonde hair, though Tabitha always has hers in pig tails. They both have green eyes, too. Mommy and Daddy tell Emily that her green eyes means she has a biiiiig imagination; so that means Tabitha does, too! But sometimes Mommy and Daddy don't believe Emily when she tells them all the fun she and Tabitha have together…

They don't believe Emily when she tells them that it was

''The dead have feelings, too.''"Aria."

Though I am still reeling from our previous argument, I force down my pride and turn my head to face where Darien's voice is coming from. I'm sure my cheeks are flushed with rage, yet I constrain the cluster of spiteful and venomous words that are still dripping on the tip of my tongue.

Darien's form comes into view--the rage from just minutes before must have made him lose his corporeal appearance--and instantly his eyes meet mine. They are still somewhat cloudy with anger, but as we stare down one another in silence, I see that anger slowly change into something more or less acceptance. He sighs, running a hand through his shaggy

TemporalI am the yesterday waiting for my tomorrow,
and you are the future waiting for your past.

Let us correspond our oscillating hearts,
hidden behind adamantine bastions,
and together we shall fabricate a new

today.

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S E C R E T S

by *PrussianPersephone, Nov 28, 2012, 6:14:05 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

s omething
e veryone
c onceals
r eadily
e ven
t hough
s ecrets

c
a
n

k
i
l
l

S E C R E T Sby *PrussianPersephone

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

©2012-2013 *PrussianPersephone

Playing around with different formats. I think I like how this turned out.

This is...I'm not sure. I mean, I know we all have our fair share of secrets, but I highly doubt that they're al; so horrible that it's going to get somebody killed. What do I know? I'm just a silly teenage girl. This is basically just something I came up with while trying to avoid studying for a chemistry test I have tomorrow.

It probably doesn't have much poetic meaning, but eh. What matters is that I'm exercising my creativity.

~Malfunctional-Maniac Dec 3, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I like the formatting too.

Reply

~AwesomeHellee9 Nov 29, 2012 Hobbyist

Awesome

Reply

=autumn--thunder Nov 28, 2012 Student General Artist

Very creative. I love it.

Goodness, I hope that my secrets aren't ones that could get me killed. At least, I think so...

Reply

*PrussianPersephone Nov 29, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks! And I hop so too lol.

Reply

=autumn--thunder Nov 29, 2012 Student General Artist

_{You're welcome. ^^ And yeah.}

Reply

~CrazyCharlette1415 Nov 28, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Me likey.

Reply

*PrussianPersephone Nov 29, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Good.

Reply

~c1oud9 Nov 28, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Clever..

Reply

*PrussianPersephone Nov 29, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks!

Reply

~imagination-junkie Nov 28, 2012

I like the free form. And how 'kill' sort of drifts off. Cool!

And I'd say that secrets can kill when you lock them up inside and don't share them and they eat you from the inside out.

Reply