R
RobCope
Guest
Bathing with stars, jagged like scars,
As you sit in your jeans, jagged stitch fits the seams, of the velvet sea,
Where your reel be cast, sat on this pedestal of broken step,
As you clambered and swept,
The shards of light that snapped at your eyes,
Ensured it caressed the corners,
Of the darkest, darkest skies,
Through waves that pendulum at scale,
Justice cannot prevail, when the gallery enforce guilty to your claim,
How qualified to say, painted in there frame.
Compassed by fate, through the abyss of your gaze,
As constellations conjure, all but a winding maze.
Your windswept hand, chasing words across the page,
To iron and stone, composing a cage,
For in these walls of stone, flesh and bone,
Lay a burgeoning heart, screaming companions with the clouds that flit by,
For the walls that surround compose merely a frame to the sky.
Yet wandering words, in cell or free mind,
Will be lost in time,
As they march with the hand in vain to fill place,
But fills only ruins of time, etched on your face.
Slithering thoughts, slipping through the mind,
Will bind the words in the book of truth,
Sealing each chapter fronted by youth,
Pages flit by with destiny times slave,
As the chains that possess, bare heavier with age.
And through voice will hurricanes reside,
So to calm the scene use your glancing eyes,
In tempestuous tides that cough at the shore,
Words collide as they spit from the jaw,
Through sand they will hide as your soles leave trace,
Of proof that hurricanes, have swept this face.
Its strung from stars, dangled at your feet,
Puppets streaming laughs, on stage of defeat,
Roses are thrown, that with petal dissect,
The dreams you have sown, upon fields of regret,
It’s not regret of your words, for with action they will fame,
It’s the cynics that yearn, to with but words tame,
With their written reviews to clutch conversation,
As one man’s distress is another man’s elation.
Scars that lay, from words, superficially,
Will corrode in time, as dreams bleed with your history.
Let the rolls on your dream reel.
I appreciate all feedback, positive and negative; for those that are negative could you give some critique. Maybe explain why it doesnt make sense to you and ill try to explain the reason ive written it that way. Thanks
As you sit in your jeans, jagged stitch fits the seams, of the velvet sea,
Where your reel be cast, sat on this pedestal of broken step,
As you clambered and swept,
The shards of light that snapped at your eyes,
Ensured it caressed the corners,
Of the darkest, darkest skies,
Through waves that pendulum at scale,
Justice cannot prevail, when the gallery enforce guilty to your claim,
How qualified to say, painted in there frame.
Compassed by fate, through the abyss of your gaze,
As constellations conjure, all but a winding maze.
Your windswept hand, chasing words across the page,
To iron and stone, composing a cage,
For in these walls of stone, flesh and bone,
Lay a burgeoning heart, screaming companions with the clouds that flit by,
For the walls that surround compose merely a frame to the sky.
Yet wandering words, in cell or free mind,
Will be lost in time,
As they march with the hand in vain to fill place,
But fills only ruins of time, etched on your face.
Slithering thoughts, slipping through the mind,
Will bind the words in the book of truth,
Sealing each chapter fronted by youth,
Pages flit by with destiny times slave,
As the chains that possess, bare heavier with age.
And through voice will hurricanes reside,
So to calm the scene use your glancing eyes,
In tempestuous tides that cough at the shore,
Words collide as they spit from the jaw,
Through sand they will hide as your soles leave trace,
Of proof that hurricanes, have swept this face.
Its strung from stars, dangled at your feet,
Puppets streaming laughs, on stage of defeat,
Roses are thrown, that with petal dissect,
The dreams you have sown, upon fields of regret,
It’s not regret of your words, for with action they will fame,
It’s the cynics that yearn, to with but words tame,
With their written reviews to clutch conversation,
As one man’s distress is another man’s elation.
Scars that lay, from words, superficially,
Will corrode in time, as dreams bleed with your history.
Let the rolls on your dream reel.
I appreciate all feedback, positive and negative; for those that are negative could you give some critique. Maybe explain why it doesnt make sense to you and ill try to explain the reason ive written it that way. Thanks
