Best Mysteryworld Poems
In the ethereal world of promises
we drift on angel wings of expectation.
Held in the heavenly security of their embrace;
captivated by faces of perfect love; in whom we completely trust.
On earth we can know no such promise, for its comes only with our dreams.
On earth we are tousled and tainted by worldly heaviness and
overwhelming responsibility. Negativity gnawing at our soul;
perforating hope, negating love, yet up above we are watched
by guardian angels. They feel our pain, and grimace as the
agony of living unfolds. They yearn to hold our battered
spirit and infuse peace within it, but are thwarted as
the rabid madness of the world takes hold.
Angels watch over us and we can call
them to our aid. Let us dwell, forever,
in the ethereal world of promises.
He locked the large wooden office door,
Walked alone to a home left hours before.
Then when he reached his humble abode,
The familiar surroundings of which forebode.
Inserted his key, changed the locked mode,
And walked across the creaking floor.
A candle he burned in the darkened room,
Dimly lit now, and still full of gloom.
On the stove put a meal atop to heat.
And every morsel alone he did eat.
Then to the chamber he would retreat,
To retire for the night of doom.
After donning his nightly attire for bed,
Upon satin pillows he laid down his head.
Tossing and turning, asleep at last,
A ghoulish dream he has of his past.
Thoughts that before had seemed so crass
Streams through his mind from the dead.
Haunted visions he had, one by one.
A cast of mistreated and over run
Connecting a past of many heartless deeds
To a present and future of uncaring greed.
Throughout the night the dream would proceed.
Until the lunar crest gave way to the sun.
As the sun through his window began to shine
With his haunting dream still fresh in his mind.
He arose and stepped to his window to view
Something different, he thought. Could this be true?
The streets were the same and the people too.
As if nothing had changed but time.
His view of the world was different that day.
It was he that had changed from his wicked way.
The preceding night put his head in a spin.
The world he now saw was as it had been.
But he had been changed from within;
With a new attitude, and kind things to say.
The world, not knowing of his demise.
Were skeptical at first, then realized
That something, or someone affected him.
More generous and friendly he was to them,
Not as the old man who was so grim.
He now saw the world through new eyes.
Long white halls that echo with pain,
Where strait jackets lord and beckon with shame.
The therapy numbs and visits are feared,
You’re sane if you hallucinate here.
Patterns of colour and visions of gold,
Prophecy of end-times and things to behold.
Voices from the dead, alive in your head,
Where Lucid dreams are far from your bed.
Back to reality, therapy time,
Dragged through the chaos of psychotic minds.
The ECT a daily chore,
The result of looking through that door.
Brought back to a place in your youth,
Where the fantasies are induced.
Is it real? it seems so real!
Then a bolt from the blue has the Reaper revealed.
Cold hands grab your skull to wake you,
The Cuckoo’s nest now seems too true.
Your world becomes lobotomized,
There’s no one now behind those eyes.
Drifting like the drifting of a tune,
Back to your world that makes you swoon.
No telling what’s real anymore,
Just hallucinate and ignore.
Silent silhouette,
Lonesome in her home,
Emters a world of crystal sparkles,
Encircles a world of silvery streams,
Perhaps to dream.
A sleep ---- beyond the preconscious mind; lacking on a self-centered dream.
A dream, a feigned one or illusion
My mind is bleeding on a vast ocean of regretful thoughts, a dream ---- escaping from
reality, a night ---- period of darkness between sunset and sunrise.
I sleep into the dark wondering in my hollow dream would I ever see the light, but my
fate is like the stars never being able to be reach, my dream as the spaceship lost his
fuel into space .
Please don’t judge because I see dream as a world to escape from reality, my
knowledge won’t be skeptical causes my world is a dream.
Our conscious can be acknowledge by light but to get a deeper perspective one must
dream into the dark because in every light there are shadows around the corners it
may be impossible to devoted my words but life is a dream only those who know reality
can forget about their ego.
The cold is draws forth, closing in on the hearts discontent as if a dog on the hunt.
The pain and withering numbness that dances into view, is simply like that of a
ghostly faery, promising stories, love, friendship, only to be grasped and fade away
from thought.
A scream can be heard, and nothing more, the dancing world is silent, scarily so, and
the place rings with the sharp sound of a song.
Fingers trailing in a world where they have no place to be, make one wish to stand
and dance, to scream out, to tear hair from their very heads, to let their throats
bleed in their pain, in their joy, in their agony.
Try and find a helping hand in such a world, where every person has long gone,
fallen in their own despair and their own madness where nothing can be found but
empty smiles, loud laughter, ravishing the air like that of a lover to another.
Try to escape, try to run form the laughter, from the silence, from the very world of
hysterics, of grins, of a dancing masquerade.
Colors of bright have gone dull, no longer able to stand such horrible atrocities.
Let your mouth fall open, let your tongue try and make words, make pleas, cries,
sounds of any kind, and watch as nothing falls out, let the sound of silence ring
powerful in your ears, may you scream and scream, but never be heard.
May your throat bleed, may your tears go dry upon your cheeks, may the very air in
your lungs go far off and let it dance off as if it was never there.
And then.
You wake to find nothing but your room, your personal space.
The sheets are in disarray, the room is too hot and too cold all at once, and then,
you raise a hand to your throat, feel only the wetness of sweat, and breathe a sigh
of relief, only to fall back into the monster that is your mind, gone and far, locked
away in its dancing madness.
From moon to minotaur
The gospel unwinds
The tangled mass
In the memorial of our myths.
The woman there seems black to me
I guess she is naked now
In her ivory world of light
It is her silence I admire
For her words have me caused me pain
And stained joy more
Than the noxious sips of wine.
So I have read the scrolls
And seen my heart transfigured
Into the meteor of his eyes
Tell her do not start the dancing yet
I have one more laugh to make
Before the pyre of my death.
I stand below in the light of her sovereign legs
And keep looking up
To see her in her scarlet dress
Blowing like wisps of clouds into obscurity
When the last iceberg of the moon is gone
She pours her wine on the tongues of kings
And made my world a marginal hell here
The thread is broken not the stream
I caught it in rivulets of faith
I cannot fear the wine giver still
Though once I suck in bitterness her breast
The carnage of their chaos is done in me
And I stripped to the insecurity
Of my trembling nakedness.
Laugh at old Perseus
And his finite ball of thread
The moon is not as far as it use to be
But the hero is not here who will save him
For Perseus is not invincible again
Without his staggering line
Of thread in the cavern dark
He cannot face the minotaur
Where I kneel, alone.
Who am I?
Where do I stand?
I need to find my place
In a world that fills up mounds of space
I'm someone of worth
Don't you realize
I feel like I've been hypnotized
Doesn't anyone hear me
Hear my plea
Help me find out more about me
I need you someone
Question is are you that someone I'm suppose to meet?
Why is thee so much pressure in relationships
I'm more than just a relation
It's like a revelation when you ad I collide
I'm someone who will love you more than anything
and won't stop till the world ends.