DarkSide's Poetry and Prose

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DJ_Darkside
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DarkSide's Poetry and Prose

Postby DJ_Darkside » Mon Apr 03, 2017 3:05 am

So I just thought I should post some of my old writings and try to inspire myself to get some new writings up. Let me know what you think or don't, Imma just keep on keeping on.

Of The Desert and Stars

Standing by the cliff side,
Overlooking a desert of memories and tales past,
A man, dressed in shambles and rags sits and cries quietly,
After months of tears shed, the man notices a dark shapeless figure on a cliff in the distance of the desert.
The man tries to see the shapeless figure but is blinded by the thick smoke of the bad memories and the hunger for new ones.
The man, having heavy scars on his heart, is scared.
He could easily climb down the cliff to see just who is on the other side, but does not want to bear anymore scars.
His heart still bleeds too heavily for time to heal his wounds.
So the mans sits again, and again cries but this time not for his scars but for himself.
How could he let someone wound him so?
He used to be great, he used to rule the world but now he is but a flea amongst giants.
A flea which is slowly bleeding and in time will wither away, yet is sill able to hide and run from the giants and clings to life for some reason.
That’s it isn’t it?
The question is always “Why?”. What does the man have to live for.
The man thinks this and suddenly looks up. He glances at the stars.
The sky is clear. The stars are bright.
Then suddenly appears an angel. The man stands.
The angel begs him to come near for the angel too is battered and bruised.
Her wings are tattered and scared like the mans heart.
They touch hands for an instant and the man feels new. The rags change to a garb of the finest cloth and the scares finally stop bleeding.
But then the angel lets go. The man falls back to his perch, back to his old self.
The scares bleed again but not as heavily as the last time. The man now has purpose.
The man climbs down the cliff, now on a journey to find the dark figure and to find the angel.
Then something strange happens. The closer he gets to the dark figure, the more shape it takes.
Finally the man gets close enough to the figure to see who it is.
It is the angel.
The man is in shock. He realizes that if he had the courage to with stand the scars he bears he would have been able to heal them.
So now here sits the man at the bottom of a cliff surrounded by memories and tales past staring up at the angel who has always been just out of reach.
Will he sit for an eternity, or will he withstand the scars?
Here he will sit until the answer comes.
Here he will sit waiting, in a pool of his own blood.
Until the answer comes.



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unsung Hero

High atop the city scape,
Black leather flapping in the wind,
Sits an unsung hero,
Watching over his kin.

His war-torn eyes show strength,
His battered body shows scars,
His gaze ever so watchful,
Has he sits out under the stars.

He brushes long hair from his eye
As he thinks of battles past.
He thinks of all his accomplishments,
Then suddenly stands up with a gasp!

Blood trickles down his face
He frantically looks around
Finds nothing but air
And slowly falls to the ground

His life flashes before his eyes
He knows he did his best.
He thinks thoughts of heaven
And a final, eternal rest.

His senses come about him
Has he hears a scream
A mother running below
But her child seems to freeze

With his last ounce of strength
He concentrates with all his might.
He floats to a nearby dumpster
Has the child runs from sight

Now the hero sits
Feeling death approach
And smelling the garbage around him
Of all he thinks, he thinks this the most:

Is this what he deserves,
Is this his final pay?
Would he have been dead
If he quit that same day?

But in the end he smiles
He knows he doesn’t care
It was a job well done
Yet he sighs in despair.

So now he sits in garbage
Waiting for his death
He wonders if the child is okay
As he takes his last breath.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The Answer

In my Crystal ball I gaze
To a time long and past
Where love was all but naught a word
And love would seem to last.
Yet roses blue and flowers red
Are now but things of past.

Now here I am as cold as ice
With no warmth to sooth my scars
My crystal ball still shows you face
And paints it on the stars

I still don’t know what evil came
I don’t know what evil past
All I know is what you became
When its spell was cast

But all is not lost in this world of pain
I know now what to do
The answer was always there
The answer I now knew

The answer is quick
The pain now gone
The space is clear and dry
I now can finally rest and watch time go by.

But as I sit beneath the ground
Where shadows loom and fly
I will forever wonder to my self,
What was the reason why?


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Journey

Pandora's Box is open
The treasure is all mine
The golden box is shining
Yet nothing is inside

Have I been mislead?
Is this even the right time?
Was this box to be closed?
What treasure did it hide?

Now the golden box is broken
A hundred years have passed
The broken box is worthless
This journey is my last

So I sit here now dying
But I die with pride
For I found Pandora's box
And nothing was inside.


------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lovers

soft bown eyes well up with tears.
Two lovers locked in embrace.
For the moment has finally come
for the lovers to go thier seperate way
don't go he said with a tear in his eye
I must, she said with a somber face

but somber is not the feeling
that these two share deep inside
so much left to say
nothing left to hide

for one final time
the lovers lips touch
and for one final time
they long for eachother so much

but not all is lost
for there is hope left here
but the hope is up to you
the situation is clear.

Did the lovers decide to run away?
into the sunny sky
or was it not the right time?
do the lovers grow apart.

This toil I am left with
cursed with the power of choice
but I choose not to speak
for I have lost my voice.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
and now a little comedy......

Tech Support

I sit here lonely
waiting all day
for someone to call
for someone to say

My internet is down
and my mouse is not working
my cable's on fire
my stomach is turning

I know you can't type
but follow my lead
you can't spell IPCONFIG??
my knuckles now bleed.

I am a problem solver
in this maze of cubes
my job is not easy
telling people what to do.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Green Time

In this chair I sit
silently waiting for a call
no one is haveing trouble
no one at all

So the world of COGECO is safe
at least for some time
when evil stikes again
I'll save them from thier crime

but until that time
when I hear the sound of doom
the signal in the air.
I don't ever leave the room

with a wave of my hand
the day is saved
my glory is forgotten
Evil is sent away

so until the next time
when I hear that sound
I'll be waiting here
till evil comes around.

Enjoy
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I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not. Kurt Cobain
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ALL HAIL LIEUTENANT DOCTOR COOLCHUNKIA ESQUIRE THE THIRD JR.!!! Lest she blow chunks of cool up yo asssss!!!
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/anna hack! :kiss:
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NaranjaRa
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Re: DarkSide's Poetry and Prose

Postby NaranjaRa » Mon Apr 03, 2017 9:01 am

(sun) thanks for sharing DJ! very lyrical...do you write songs?
i will read over again...i always need a little time to process and respond properly to werds.
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DJ_Darkside
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Re: DarkSide's Poetry and Prose

Postby DJ_Darkside » Tue Apr 04, 2017 3:05 pm

Yah I've got a pile of songs too. Most of them are full of bad words lol
Image

I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not. Kurt Cobain
Image

Spoiler: show
ALL HAIL LIEUTENANT DOCTOR COOLCHUNKIA ESQUIRE THE THIRD JR.!!! Lest she blow chunks of cool up yo asssss!!!
Image
/anna hack! :kiss:
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ink
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Re: DarkSide's Poetry and Prose

Postby ink » Tue Apr 18, 2017 4:35 pm

yea dude.. thats some creative imagry. thks for the share!
we are, what we allow to occupy us..





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