I have shared these on other boards so I might as well post them here. This topic is used for a variety of rather sad poems I've written in the past year or so. One poem per day or week or so. To start off here is my first one:
Eternal Exile
Depression, loneliness, sadness, denial, isolation, alienation, exiled, hated, slandered, and oppressed. Hmf, sounds like something only a very bad person would encounter, either that or a man with no luck. Luck, what a word, it can describe so many "what ifs" that could have been and been not. Pleasure and pain go together hand in hand like dawn and dusk. Opposites that have the deepest and sickest urges to be each other. Oh the imperfection everyone lives in with all of its problems and conflicts abound. Heh, what a strange enigma we can never truly say we can figure out. Some people are simply fortunate and most have decent lives, but there are those that have only one constant friend by the name of misery. Interesting what depression can do to one's sanity, sometimes it leaves them in the darkest dark where they can never escape while others can get out of it. And yet.... there are those who are labeled as such when they never were, only because the majority was against them. Pft, poor souls, never can they experience the pleasures of being respected, never can they know what it is liked to be wanted, never can they know what it is like to not have countless lies about them spread and taken so seriously, never a day is known that they are not stalked and hounded like a lamb for a wolf. Internal pain wanting nothing more than acceptance, the easiest and hardest treasure anyone can ever truly hope to have. We are all cursed to our anatomy as we are cursed to the people that control our sanity. Interesting little word, "sanity". What makes one "sane"? Is it what we know in our souls or what others tell us? We can never truly tell as the imperfect world gave us the power of masks. Yes.... masks. For that we can never truly be ourselves, not even to us. Everyone that wears their mask hopes to gain what they wish to accomplish and depending on your mask is what the other masks will think of you. The torture knows no bounds and yet the ones with the least masks that attempt escape are tortured worst of all. Alas, the poor souls. The eternal exiles from the corrupted light.
DG2099's Incredibly Depressing Poetry
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DuelGundam2099
Re: DG2099's Incredibly Depressing Poetry
The Living Winter of Discontent
Political hypocrisy. Such a common thing yet no one actually takes out time to actually see the horrors it does to individual lives. An unholy five that define the bottom barrel scum of human existence, protected by a corrupt cop and a blind official. All the while a deformed human that simply wants to be alone bares his burdens. Exile eternal he is and the uncorrupted fail to to take action. A horrible species the human is. This once peace-going deformed human now lives his days basking in the afflicting darkness of rage and sorrow. His anger glows like a thousand burning suns that power his heart, now a cauldron of boiling steel to form a sword forged by the forces of wrath to meet the demise of the true wrong doers. Once an innocent man, now considered by the blind easily persuaded sheep as a fallen unholy angel comparable to only the Morning Star. Ice covers his once radiant heart from a winter.... of discontent.
Political hypocrisy. Such a common thing yet no one actually takes out time to actually see the horrors it does to individual lives. An unholy five that define the bottom barrel scum of human existence, protected by a corrupt cop and a blind official. All the while a deformed human that simply wants to be alone bares his burdens. Exile eternal he is and the uncorrupted fail to to take action. A horrible species the human is. This once peace-going deformed human now lives his days basking in the afflicting darkness of rage and sorrow. His anger glows like a thousand burning suns that power his heart, now a cauldron of boiling steel to form a sword forged by the forces of wrath to meet the demise of the true wrong doers. Once an innocent man, now considered by the blind easily persuaded sheep as a fallen unholy angel comparable to only the Morning Star. Ice covers his once radiant heart from a winter.... of discontent.
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DuelGundam2099
Re: DG2099's Incredibly Depressing Poetry
The Fire That Lives From Ignorance
Fires. They spread forever until they can no longer spread. They have their legendary reputation for good reason for as long as there is fuel it can grow. One knows that to put out a fire one must extinguish all of it, but the ignorant and the corrupt fail to ever truly see it. If something has been set aflame they try their best to put all of their resources on destroying it while ignoring the fire that causes the real damage. It makes you feel sorry for the flammable piece of furniture, a victim of wrong-doing done by others because those that could stop it had no backbone. The fires that are kept alive from the ignorant are cast a blaze for years on end while the firefighter wishes not to get his hands dirty and let the arsonist put it out. The ignorant and the corrupt, keeping the flames ablaze for eternity, never knowing that it is never really difficult to take out the fire, but they could never truly hope to learn. Truly evil always prevails and triumphs, but only when good men fail to do anything to prevent the darkened darkness of darkdom's dark for spreading like wildfire.
Fires. They spread forever until they can no longer spread. They have their legendary reputation for good reason for as long as there is fuel it can grow. One knows that to put out a fire one must extinguish all of it, but the ignorant and the corrupt fail to ever truly see it. If something has been set aflame they try their best to put all of their resources on destroying it while ignoring the fire that causes the real damage. It makes you feel sorry for the flammable piece of furniture, a victim of wrong-doing done by others because those that could stop it had no backbone. The fires that are kept alive from the ignorant are cast a blaze for years on end while the firefighter wishes not to get his hands dirty and let the arsonist put it out. The ignorant and the corrupt, keeping the flames ablaze for eternity, never knowing that it is never really difficult to take out the fire, but they could never truly hope to learn. Truly evil always prevails and triumphs, but only when good men fail to do anything to prevent the darkened darkness of darkdom's dark for spreading like wildfire.
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DuelGundam2099
Re: DG2099's Incredibly Depressing Poetry
The Attacked Minoritets
In the days of old and olden-timer was a land of class and grace known as The Effemms. This place allowed fighters from the round and round-abouts from the far corners of the universe for a long and rich history of fighting and spectacle. However, every once in a while fires spread like a plague of locusts devouring and conquering a field of wheat and corn. Terror incarnate were the wars that broke out of the miniscule bits of pointlessness. The highest of ups tended to do nothing while the local governments were corrupted by their closest friends to push their agendas of genocidal darkness that would reduce The Effemms to a stagnant pool of despair and sorrow. A type of fight was taken out first: The multiples. No more than one fight could happen at a time, which bothered the very few, but those few were the definition of "in-crowd". Next came the minorities known as the Veegees, who fought so hard for the civility they once had over the days of old only for the ascended beast in the guise of light to murder them with his iron heart while wearing a mask of kindness to appeal to the side of the very conflict he started. Blind enforcer he was later turned babylon visionary of pride and pain. Finally the unkindest cut of all, making the battles no more than five without government approval, something no one truly cared for that causes The Effemms to slowly die of rot all thanks to the help of the politician that gathered the sheep-like masses like a hypnotic piper and with some from the serpent bathed in science. Truly only the minoritets remained only for the ascended horror to abuse the rules to rid himself of his political enemies. The death and branding of a traitor, all done to.... The Minoritets.
In the days of old and olden-timer was a land of class and grace known as The Effemms. This place allowed fighters from the round and round-abouts from the far corners of the universe for a long and rich history of fighting and spectacle. However, every once in a while fires spread like a plague of locusts devouring and conquering a field of wheat and corn. Terror incarnate were the wars that broke out of the miniscule bits of pointlessness. The highest of ups tended to do nothing while the local governments were corrupted by their closest friends to push their agendas of genocidal darkness that would reduce The Effemms to a stagnant pool of despair and sorrow. A type of fight was taken out first: The multiples. No more than one fight could happen at a time, which bothered the very few, but those few were the definition of "in-crowd". Next came the minorities known as the Veegees, who fought so hard for the civility they once had over the days of old only for the ascended beast in the guise of light to murder them with his iron heart while wearing a mask of kindness to appeal to the side of the very conflict he started. Blind enforcer he was later turned babylon visionary of pride and pain. Finally the unkindest cut of all, making the battles no more than five without government approval, something no one truly cared for that causes The Effemms to slowly die of rot all thanks to the help of the politician that gathered the sheep-like masses like a hypnotic piper and with some from the serpent bathed in science. Truly only the minoritets remained only for the ascended horror to abuse the rules to rid himself of his political enemies. The death and branding of a traitor, all done to.... The Minoritets.
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DuelGundam2099
Re: DG2099's Incredibly Depressing Poetry
The Devil Exile Feels Sad
Another day out of paradise.
Another day labeled a traitor.
Another day convicted of crimes never done.
Another day of injustice gone rampant.
Another day were hope is nothing but a bleak memory.
Another day as Pagilacci the sad clown.
Another day of analyzing weaknesses hoping for a striking time.
Another day The Tyrant sicks his clique mercenaries.
Another day were the exile's principles are that of Caesar.
Another day were Caesar is as constant as the Northern Star
Another day of being down.
Another day brought about by ignorant hatred.
Another day of the land's masses being harvested by the clique.
Another day where something is less sweet because of the name it has.
Another day.
Tomorrow.
And tomorrow.
And tomorrow.
Another day out of paradise.
Another day labeled a traitor.
Another day convicted of crimes never done.
Another day of injustice gone rampant.
Another day were hope is nothing but a bleak memory.
Another day as Pagilacci the sad clown.
Another day of analyzing weaknesses hoping for a striking time.
Another day The Tyrant sicks his clique mercenaries.
Another day were the exile's principles are that of Caesar.
Another day were Caesar is as constant as the Northern Star
Another day of being down.
Another day brought about by ignorant hatred.
Another day of the land's masses being harvested by the clique.
Another day where something is less sweet because of the name it has.
Another day.
Tomorrow.
And tomorrow.
And tomorrow.