Poetry

Phoenix Shavar
PROFILE About me Poetry (3)


Phoenix Shavar

Phoenix Shavar, 13 february 2012

Rage Within Tears

Your words of art
turn into scribbles of crayola
as you speak your words to me,
regreting it everytimeyour lips move.
The winter wings of an angel turn hell red,
ripping the heavon from the core to the vision of mortals.
How can you see joy within missery,
when it bleeds pain out of my heart,
beat for beat,
replacing love with hate.
My anger for you has grown higher than God's throne,
on the highest cloud in the sky,
that sky...
so blue like Miami water,
reminds me of tears.
I - AM BLEEDING - Rage!
But when raged is being blead
it does not come crimson,
It is crystal clear like gems & diamonds,
a treasure lost in a trapped mine,
imprisoning all in search.
When I bleed rage...
it looks like I am crying.
Emotions began to erupt with the devil's face tattoed across them.
Seems I am oblivious to your care,
Horribly mesmerized by fear,
but fear soon becomes over powered by rage.
Saitan-
Why do you keep using me?
Birthing your power upon me,
Using my energy for destruction of the world,
then leaving a white phoenix,
booming withe darkness of the black winged phoenix.
All I see is a balance,
white and black are on opposed sides like a libra scale.
But the rage within my tears,
is ceased behind a dam of a heart!


number of comments: 1 | rating: 17 | detail

Phoenix Shavar

Phoenix Shavar, 13 february 2012

Letting Go In Blackness!

My sun has merged into a crowd of clouds,
weeping sympathy upon thy face,
like ashes set a drift from the light of a cigarette.
The drops are drizzled upon my world,
making it gray like the streets of Sweeny Todd's London,
Killing every thought of happiness,
assassinating my temples core.
I am LOST!
Find me in the darkness where the light has not reached,
its a simple game of hide and seek with a twist.
I have no disney memories,
because no ending is ever happy in this condition that I have entered.
Everything, every thought, every PEEK of joy,
has exploded like dynomites in my cave of black secracy.
Cinderella broke her ankle,
Jack & Jill are in an ambulance suffering of concussions....
My mind....
Is a book of dark fantasies,
a musical of belittled symphonies,
and a heart of coal.
But blackness has an opposite,
its called the end of the spectrum.
My glory will prevail,
My hand... high it shall be held,
and forever,
I will be light!!!


number of comments: 1 | rating: 13 | detail

Phoenix Shavar

Phoenix Shavar, 13 february 2012

Drops of The Fire Heart!

Your fashion isnt being held as passion like you demand.
Your tears are being mistaken.
Classified as a minor issue,
you burst into disappointment.
Your missery craddles you into a cacoon of shadows,
helping the darkness whisper black secrets,
helping the darkness cover your sight,
to the point you only see rage in pure vision.
The fire trapped in your heart isnt there for evil,
You can mold that into a flame that burns your bad memories.
...You used to lean forward and let drips of your heart,
dazzle the terrain underneathe,
your heart of flames,
would be used like a sprinkler,
sneezing ember all over the place.
But the drops of the fire heart in your chest,
can be molded to a flame,
that can burn your bad memories!


number of comments: 0 | rating: 12 | detail


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