Wicked Stars

KittenKoder

Senior Member
Sep 21, 2008
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Nowhere
The spinning sea of pin prick lights ...
Piercing the soul ...
Shredding it and illuminating it all at once.

The shadow blocking one ...
Green and blue ...
Protecting and embracing all her children.

The silent waiting of the vacuum ...
Nothing filling it ...
As the souls are shattered impure and weak.

Life continues and grows ...
But the souls ...
Still too weak to survive the piercing lights.

Then a spark of life ...
Without the weakness ...
Life without the soul to conquer it all.
 
-- Digital Ones --

Reality, so vibrant, so warm, to all but me.
Blinding, hot, a desert, too real, to painful.

Bliss, found not in drugs, not in alcohol.
Reading doesn't compare, art is just a shadow.

Purity, logic, no more emotions, no more feelings.
No more pain, no more blindness, not more burning.

Cold, cool, static and dynamic at once.
Life and death, the same, but always changing.

Reality becomes a nightmare, damnation and hell.
Life becomes the prison, no freedom or truth.

Ones are now the light, the logic.
Zeros are now the shadows, the colors.

Not blinding, not hot, not living, not dead.
Not reality ...
 
kitten the 2nd one i would not change a word of....

but it does break my heart the alone ness of it....

beautiful and haunting....you have achieved a great poem.
 
kitten the 2nd one i would not change a word of....

but it does break my heart the alone ness of it....

beautiful and haunting....you have achieved a great poem.

Thanks. Poetry is one of the artistic things I can do without a computer ... probably the only one, sadly. But meh. I enjoy it once in a while.
 
ahhh i have hit a block on my stained glass....there is plenty to do but suddenly i need another color....but what color...my husband is pointing out i have a 1000 dollars worth of glass and still want more.....he is grumpy
 

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