Ace Of Black Hearts

Silver Star - 4,222 Points (04/17/1984 / Homa Lousiana)

Among The Closing Arguments - Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

Strength to the bitter end.
The monster shivers within.
It is how it began.
Waning are words to ever satisfy.
A hunger ever lurching, lurking.
Waiting for one more bite.
As it might be the very last.
Painted in an iron cast.
Wielded shut no holes to be drilled.
A darkness to embrace among the tainted memories.
Red ribbons hung above the door frame.
A surprise for the one who is suppose to walk in.
At any moment, at any time soon.
If only you knew.
Watching the whole thing come unglued.
A togetherness only temporary.
With lines drawn.
The family feud is upon us once again.
Should I deny the urge to gorge upon this rotten environment.
Should I not make the best of a bad situation.
Being lifted and no idea of by who.
Dear Mr. Anonymous, thank you for giving me the time of day.
A pity party within a gallant parade.
The pot is stirred to keep the food from sticking not just to spread the flavor.
For bland taste bud care not for so many different seasons.
No this is not a yellow brick road.
For how could one resist the temptation of stealing so much gold.
Soon it will be red, painted with so much blood.
Greed always endures rest assure.
The germ with no cure.
Oh the wicked come from the once pure.
A needless endless passion of only wanting more.
No matter bodies that lay before you of who have already tried.
Ever wondered why so many grab at the endless sky?
Fists clenched upon more emptiness.
As if it will lead to more happiness.
A figurine of what once was.
It was all that left to remember you by.
Left in the dust.
Even the rust eats at my skin trying to capture something within.
What if I don't have it.
Empathy for vile.
Fear from being locked out?
What if I told you I don't care, it wasn't what I was looking for it anyways.
I don't want to be part of the pain you cause today or tomorrow.
I will not allow myself to be dragged in your warp kind of sorrow.
Do what you will.
Making another deal, thinking destroying so many lives is alright.
A force so tantalizing.
An abomination that I can do nothing about.
Sometimes you can't save the world without saving yourself first.
Is this you idea to live upon continuously?
Have you ever even been on the other end of these feelings?
The women you once loved, becoming cold blood killer, but instead of using a gun you used a pen.
But among all the stabbing and stealing, I knew it would just matter of time till I was next.
Sometimes you have to get out while the getting is good.
Lies carved out of wood.
Thrown in stove as they should.
Ashes scattered around the back door.
For if one must escape, what would be place then where that very misery lay.
Like an arrow, each and everyday I'm pointed right to it.
So hard you have tried to stop me from getting through it.
But eventually all kinds of pains do subside.
A heart flaking, not breaking.
Shedding a blacken skin, harden among so many other body parts.
Trading with those in the trenches of the already forgotten.
They'll will bury you as you did them.
I won't have lift a finger because I'm no longer just another one of your victims.
Information freely given, what they do with it is between you and them.
I have disassociated myself from the whole damn thing.
Give me my objectivity in this closing of arguments.
For I'm not waging the war you guys are.

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Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Poem Edited: Wednesday, November 27, 2013

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