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Literature Text
Come Fortune, and tell my story to me.
Am I comedic, or doomed to tragedy?
In my end will I be sadly buried?
Or in the end with happieness be married?
Many who were born and bred in sorrow
Have, braving bitter cold, found warm tomorrow.
Many who were graced with lives of leisure
Remain forgotten, rotted in their pleasure.
So if this life is but a theatre's stage,
Why should my lines be filled with only rage?
For Fortune's friendly smiles and darkest frowns
May fall upon me, causing ups and downs
But not untill my bell has fully tolled
Can Fortune know what story must be told.
Am I comedic, or doomed to tragedy?
In my end will I be sadly buried?
Or in the end with happieness be married?
Many who were born and bred in sorrow
Have, braving bitter cold, found warm tomorrow.
Many who were graced with lives of leisure
Remain forgotten, rotted in their pleasure.
So if this life is but a theatre's stage,
Why should my lines be filled with only rage?
For Fortune's friendly smiles and darkest frowns
May fall upon me, causing ups and downs
But not untill my bell has fully tolled
Can Fortune know what story must be told.
Literature
I Weep
In the light of day I weep for you.
No out of love but out of pity
As I see you throw your life away on pity pursuits.
You will never have what you are searching for.
You’ll never find love nor happiness
Not as long as you waste your time
Writing things no one cares about.
Talking to people who care so little for you
Being used by the banes of society
I weep for you each day
I wish you knew what I know
You sad pathetic soul of a man
You wish for happiness that you will never achieve
You keep throwing you life away on useless pursuits
Oh dear sir will you ever learn?
I believe not so I weep.
Literature
apparition
you arrived
an apparition
spilling the sun between your fingers
in a world that had never seen the dawn
(this reality does not belong
with you in it)
my fist uncurled
you pressed into my palm
the star in its entirety
my soul unfurled
awakened to witness my burning
(i can no longer call it my own,
not since you called it by name)
you sailed through waves of flame
and slept by hearths of ice
you taught me that flight
was unnecessary
just trample the skies
beneath your feet
it is the ground that drifts
beyond your reach
(you are, and are not,
a contradiction)
ghosting always
past my periphery
you lived
in shattered mirrors
reflected
r
Literature
Tragedy
I’m the girl in the books that is a mystery. A tragic heroin that gives the main character a new perspective.
Quiet girl, riot girl. A rebel, a tragedy.
I’m the wild ride, the adventure, the challenge. I’m the girl he wants to know all about until he goes too far and I’m no longer real.
I’m the manic depressive pixie dream girl with a tragic end.
I’m not his type but he goes after me anyway because my wild eyes, wild hair, wild life, wild thoughts.
Oh look, I’ve got an attitude. Screaming at the world, fuck the system, tongue as sharp as a knife attitude. Middle fingers, swearing at everyone, bit
More Shakespeare inspired stuff. This is almost a sonnet I think. Mutt sonnet I think I'll call it.
© 2009 - 2024 VetchVespers
Comments32
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You had me at "Come Fortune" I really really like this, misery supposedly loves company after all. Now it may just be me but this didn't seem to be much 'death' orientated...