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Poetic License

Started by Rubicante, February 07, 2008, 07:55:49 AM

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Rubicante

Freeverse, sonnet, Haiku, lyrics. . .Share 'em :)

Our Old Souls

Two old souls,
Merry old souls,
Tried and tried again,
How the light shines on them now.

One old soul spans many a lifetime,
But keeps youth under itââ,¬â,,¢s eyes.
The same old soul died many a time,
Day after day brought in a new life.

The other old soul,
Another soul found grand,
Failed to embrace the gift as a whole,
A gift from Godââ,¬â,,¢s right hand.

Our tale sets forth,
Like the leaves upon the wind,
Letââ,¬â,,¢s go to a place not visited before,
A view of how it was back then.

The morning dew brought us to our knees,
As if the Pale Rider itself was there to console us that day.
But in the burning sun did we ever see,
Another day ahead of us; Too late to turn away.

Souls brought together and then torn apart,
One gone home to the world known,
The other released in a land afarââ,¬Â¦
Blood stains the sand of his new home.

War is a tragedy we canââ,¬â,,¢t look past,
Letââ,¬â,,¢s travel further down the spiral; past the present circumstance,
Back to the day I raised my glass,
Raised it to my last dance.

The darkest mark on this soul,
One being against the world it felt,
Minutes away was the journey through that six foot hole,
Two souls brought together to save oneââ,¬â,,¢s self.

Over-zealous in itself,
The savior soul left behindââ,¬Â¦
Another soul itself would later sell,
Just to have itââ,¬â,,¢s world shine.

A journey back to the present being,
The sorrow filled song of another soul,
Another tale for a listener,
Another tale to be told.

As the world seems to crumble,
The light begins to fade,
That sphere was driven under,
A story of souls that parted ways.

The story goes stale forever,
Tales forgotten and never complete.
Fate is cruel and will end never,
The story wonââ,¬â,,¢t end till the two souls meet.

Separation is a curse to consider,
Two souls departed,
Two drawn together.
Two souls longing never to be forgotten.

Our tale stops and is brought back to present,
A foolish youngââ,¬â,,¢s pride falls in loveââ,¬â,,¢s deep hole.
Merry merry souls tried and lacking resentment,
Two old souls; Our old souls.

Zerila

Wow, very nice for a first post!
Are you new to Lucky? I don't think we've met. Welcome! :)
Join the Pixie Preservation Society today!
The only membership requirement is that you can't have killed any pixies :)

Selan

Yeah rubicante just joined last night, though he knows people in this linkshell already.  Anyways nice post.
"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in the final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed."

Rubicante

Yep! I joined last night, <3 the shell already. Annnnnnd Poetic License was the title of a thread long long ago where I met some pretty good friends, so I'm trying to revive it here. Another! (Wrote three of them in a similiar pattern)

Our Shattered Souls

Everyone wants that snowflake,
Its tattooed on our skin.
Stories of the path we make,
Tales of our sin.

As we race to a red light,
Our story continues once more.
Tales of my synthetic life,
Dancing through this forgotten score.

During the hours that remain,
What will you remember?
Reminisce on blade bitten pain,
Or how your heart burned for her?

Our two souls are shredded,
Scorched, torn and tattered.
This downward spiral that weââ,¬â,,¢re headed,
Iââ,¬â,,¢d forgotten all that had mattered.

The soulââ,¬â,,¢s light has dimmed,
Throwing it all away to what gain?
Iââ,¬â,,¢ll raise my glass once again,
And thatââ,¬â,,¢s what Iââ,¬â,,¢ll remember in the hours that remain.

Our tale carries on,
Though many of us do not.
Yet another soul has seen the dawn,
The bravest have gone against what weââ,¬â,,¢re taught.

Many souls have joined our tale,
Time has told our story thus far.
One soul to still be masked in veil,
Just another lost to our memoir.

We lose ourselves in trepidation,
As often as we covet what we fear.
Only a mist between one and perdition,
Our cloak of smoke and gear.

Where will you stand in the tale?
Our old souls find bliss through misery.
Save ourselves from ourselves as the story goes stale,
Before the blade bites again; A soul wasted recklessly.