Firstly, I apologize for what you will be reading. I haven't written in a very long time. and it's 1:40 a.m. and also i have a pathetic song stuck in my head. i'm too embarassed to tell which one. i'd rather skin myself and sleep with a blown up potato. Right, so to the point... Crimson Ink. Her eyes were dead, even as I looked into them, So I lay my beloved to the talent of an unworthy pen, “Let me love you and die, let my arms frame you, Bleed, and let your blood spell, let my soul brood over you.” The line shall be drawn; the paint is still warm, The poet shall write, the drops shall swarm, The papers shall stain with the stinging love of pain, The chimes will blow, sounding death, in this summer rain. “My hand shall hold your head up high, The lights from the heavens shall shine hence, bright, The night is still dark, and the wind still chokes me, But your love is the pleasure that had always evoked me. Like the mercy from the heavens, the glory of your body, Like the curse from hell, your crimson blood soaks me, And the love we had shall share its word, It shall share this sight to the entire world.” The picture stands painted, the poem hence recited, To anyone in love so deep, see, hear, and be ignited, The lost art of love lingers in your veins, feel, Touch to know, recognize this love for real. As for me, the quill stands my knife, The ruddy line down my chest finally ends my life, Our story isn’t meant to be narrated or seen, It is engraved within your lover, reach out and feel.
....and you said my poem was good. It's just so beautiful...and for a theme like that, it isn't emo or maudlin....just perfect...sad, real, amazing use of words...now I'm ashamed of my latest poem which I've posted...beautiful job, beautiful title...