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Literature Text
In the flame of the last candle
Floats an air I can't explain,
A dark mood I cannot handle
In the house of miss Lorraine.
In this room with shady lighting,
I look rigidly around,
Hoping nothing uninviting
Would approach without a sound.
Maddened by this constant dread,
That has crept into my soul,
I have not escaped, instead
I have lost all self control.
I cringe as the wait grows longer
For I start feeling a stare
That, in time, was getting stronger
With the smell of this thick air.
But the waiting was in vain
For I knew that it was hiding
And I tried remaining sane
As my nerve started subsiding.
Soon, the candle lost it's vigor
And the flame was barely burning
But I felt her eyes get bigger
As she gave into the yearning.
.
.
.
.
I don't wish to say goodbye
And accept such a demise
But no matter how I try
I cannot escape her eyes.
Floats an air I can't explain,
A dark mood I cannot handle
In the house of miss Lorraine.
In this room with shady lighting,
I look rigidly around,
Hoping nothing uninviting
Would approach without a sound.
Maddened by this constant dread,
That has crept into my soul,
I have not escaped, instead
I have lost all self control.
I cringe as the wait grows longer
For I start feeling a stare
That, in time, was getting stronger
With the smell of this thick air.
But the waiting was in vain
For I knew that it was hiding
And I tried remaining sane
As my nerve started subsiding.
Soon, the candle lost it's vigor
And the flame was barely burning
But I felt her eyes get bigger
As she gave into the yearning.
.
.
.
.
I don't wish to say goodbye
And accept such a demise
But no matter how I try
I cannot escape her eyes.
Literature
The Caged Bird's Lullaby
Sit and stay a spell,
Before life takes you
Away.
I am going to write a love story
Across your lungs
So you can exhale
Sweet things
When you can't
Find the words.
Sing to me
That pretty,
Tragic little song.
The one about how
She broke your name
And took your bones.
I will find each fragmented piece
And clean out
All the maggots.
My dearest,
Your windows are broken,
Cracked and tear-streaked.
Allow me to mend you;
Stained glass
Is far more beautiful
That just a pair of
Empty eyes.
Come outside
And we will dance
In the freezing rain.
We can help each other
Wash off all the poisons
Left cl
Literature
Recycle Bin
Oh Recycle Bin,
How you taunt me so.
Plump from my ideas,
With none for me to show.
Your mouth always open,
Waiting to be fed
The words that roll about
So messy in my head.
Each scrap a banquet,
Each page a tasty treat.
You grin at my failure
And swell from my defeat...
Literature
Caged
I am the bird,
trapped in your cage.
I cower inside,
terrified by your rage.
Please let me out.
I need to take flight.
The wind in my feathers,
smiling in the light,
but you won't let me out.
You laugh at my cry,
if you will not free me,
please let me die.
I cannot go on this way,
drowning in fear,
day after day,
year after year,
but you don't have the mercy,
don't have the grace.
You laugh as I scream,
a smile on your face.
Fine, be that way,
cruel and cold,
but I'm sick of playing,
your games gotten old.
I scratch at your hand.
Free! I fly straight ahead.
A window unopen,
thump! Your bird is dead.
You cry out,
but you can't hurt me.
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Finally! something new after a month and a half.
This is supposed to be psychological horror because, in the end, nothing is really happening. The only present terror is the one felt by the narrator.
This is supposed to be psychological horror because, in the end, nothing is really happening. The only present terror is the one felt by the narrator.
Comments14
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Makes me think of a Jane Austin situation (mom's a fan, I haven't finished a book because of how round 'about the situations are) with how he panics and how it ends with a small hint of something but at he same time perhaps nothing at all.