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DifferentDifferent by Ita-chan12
An angry soul searching for peace,
an upset girl longing to be recognize,
they are the same, but completely different.
The girl wishes to do as she pleases with nothing to lose,
her soul longs to vanquish the evil spirits in her life.
They are forced into solitude,
into their own world,
People don't understand them,
they are not corrupted like the others.
So they are shunned,
unable to meet the masses.
All they ever wanted,
was to be excepted as they are.
My PalaceI stand in halls of memory,My Palace by kingtuter
A place of my own making,
Of faded pictures and crawling drafts,
The haunting of my troubled soul,
My palace, My prison.
ExpectationsI am more than your idea of me,Expectations by kingtuter
more than an opinion which you see.
I am more than what you can ponder,
and what you don't want to see.
I am more than an emotion,
an abstract form of being.
I am more than just a single thought,
more than a service to your being.
I am far older than your oldest thought,
more than a believe.
I am everything I expect of me,
and non of what you believe...
She CallsA single light shines in past mist once more,She Calls by kingtuter
He pushes his boat from Presents shore To sail over seas of nevermore,
Bellow the surface of murky memories, thoughts swim like ancient beasts,
But the past has called her wondering son,
And her song of loss to his all but broken spirit calls,
So here he comes, here he comes...
DreamI live to dream and dream to live...Dream by kingtuter
A broken smile I see renewed...
A moment of terror, pure ecstacy...
A dark cloud - The silver lining...
My death and your birth.
The Eldest SoulA young body,The Eldest Soul by kingtuter
A scarred heart,
A weary mind,
The Eldest Soul.
Born with his yesterlifes,
Heartbrake of a thousand cycles,
A heavy omen whispering nothing,
The Eldest Soul.
And this man of misery and suffering,
Of regret and loss,
Running from this shadow,
He is you.
The Eldest Soul
Eye Open WideEven though you may mock me with your simple words,Eye Open Wide by kingtuter
Everything I do not know speak contrary to your sounds,
Every thing I do to keep your words must eventually find our end.
Of time and space,
Of all that I know and care for,
Only few truths still give me knowledge of what I am here for.
Waiting is what I am doing for now,
Watching sunrise to sunset,
Walking alone with memories lest I forget.
Blistering ColdThey watch as days fly on,Blistering Cold by kingtuter
As plans become reality,
Lifes whispers, - turning into haunted shrieking.
Longing for this future,
Waiting for all this time,
They soon recognise what hope really brings is a challenge far too soon...
Too Grand for who they are.
New faces are made,
New stories are dreamed,
A new world is built,
Within the creaking shell of this one.
And not with death of old will new spring,
No,this dream will fester coldly within their minds,
Within their hearts...
Their only escape...
Bareness in this blistering cold.
The futureNight to all, for those who dread tomorrow do not burden yourself in fear.The future by kingtuter
For tomorrow is only a sign post, which we all must pass.
It will send us all on different paths.
What future it shall bring has not yet been decided for what is written on paper is truly not set in stone.
For those who are bound to lay judgement on them, be gentle.
For now your true test of caring comes...
To let them go but guide them well....
This is your true duty.
For tomorrow is not the end but only a new beginning.
Will you stand by me?It is funny how are minds begin to work....Will you stand by me? by kingtuter
.....Once we reached a certain age.
No I am not Chronos,
With his ancient eye's over all of time,
but yet I have found a difference in the way my trail of thought has worked since two springs ago...
It is mainly in the way my inner thoughts have learned to comfort me in dark times...
It is almost like my unconsciousness has grown found of me.
When previously a dark storm would thunder across the horizon my mind would tare itself to peaces.
Why it did so I can only ponder.
Was it some relic of a primitive cry for help?
Was it a self made distraction from the horrors that waged around my tender soul?
Or was it some sort of ill formed curiosity to see how far I could push myself?
I do not know the answer.
When trouble loomed its tapestry I felt obliged to help with the suffering if only it would hurt me.
But those day's are gone I feel,
when those dark clouds come onwards to me rather then curling up into a little ball and weep for my own misery