The music became my journey by VocalDepths, literature
Literature
The music became my journey
My voyage, started like the first chords of a piano coming to life again,
They were untuned, but steady, rusty but clear,
Each note led to the next and never in vain,
Paths crossed mine, and I felt I'd be swallowed in noise.
I struggled to be heard, to be needed in a orchestra of a new sound,
In a place from which I'd have to be weaned, but in which I never wanted to be.
Everywhere I looked, I found no liberation from the noise was to be found.
Its then I saw its notes, as a delicate bright white light in a cacophony of colours,
The music bursts from each instrument now,
And in the hum of sound, with my love I flourish,
I've heard n
The Misunderstanding of uselessness by VocalDepths, literature
Literature
The Misunderstanding of uselessness
I want to be Useful,
I want to show i see,
that the cup isn't half full,
but how can i live, how can i be?
When i know you
but don't let on,
when i understand
but i can't be strong.
For i'm scared of loosing you
so i'm scared of being close,
because misunderstandings, though not new,
have never been so morose.
A haze of low heavy sky,
obscures the view from my eye,
away from the outdoors i shy
in with the warmth i lie.
I watched the birds determination as they try to fly,
as any noise is swept away with their cry.
Out on the hills a figure i see,
easily mistaken for a lonesome tree,
tall, pale, but bold was she,
and by no means couped in a house like me.
Her hair, her nature so wild, so free,
she seemed bound by no decree.
On awakening from a dream,
down the window the rain does stream
everything turned to grey from green.
I could be outside,
only a sheet of thin glass between, i sighed,
and then the ancient door i tried,
letting
Fire on the horizon
If i ask you, will you spare me?
roaring red flames
If i kneel to you, will you pass me?
fire i love you,
A emotion inside me clashes
With another, fire i fear you
Noone escapes your lashes
With their heart intact, un cracked.
The thoughts are loud
they deafen me, from inside,
I try to concentrate, try to create a calm shroud
but the thoughts, are too loud.
They come from within, crawling
they shout at me, like a billion voices
its only the one, yet i feel in a mass im falling,
until you whisper my name and through the crowds,
I hear you calling.
Theres a silence. That noone understands.
Its black outside. But to my eyes a burning torch my heart hands.
Im not afraid. Though i cower at the sight of the dark.
Im not afraid. Though the silence is full, i hear in my head a beautiful singing lark.
When i leave the door. When i need to be free,
However many times i try to leave, you know how scared i'll be.
So your forever there, Protecting me.
You hit the brick wall hard, at full speed.
Stop for a second, the bricks mid-air, suspended,
then realisation, thoughts, pain, they blundered down.
The strings cut and you shown up, the clown.
Personification of Lost Love by VocalDepths, literature
Literature
Personification of Lost Love
Theres a woman in the corner,
A pink eerie mist creeps around her feet.
Theres a atmosphere of knowledge.
As if to this she is no foreigner.
Her eyes observe.
Her Skin is pale, white and young,
her lips are swollen, red, stark against her icy skin.
Her broken harp, now half strung.
Noone is watching.
She holds the instrument carefully.
She cradles it with her arm,
she shakes slightly, fearfully,
Her eyes remembering.
The garment she wears is perfect,
the dress and viel, simple, white and pure,
The gash across her chest its only defect.
She stares you down.
Her hair is long and greasy,
her posture, cowering and defeated,
her
The story of the blind man by VocalDepths, literature
Literature
The story of the blind man
At birth, his eyes weren't open
but his mind was introduced to a whole new world,
he lived as if he hadn't been robbed of a important token,
he lived, and to him new things unfurled.
He stood for hours and listened
to things we never hear,
he couldn't see your faces but he knew you through and through,
he didnt need to stand near.
he never saw the colour,
of natures million hues
but the way in which he could discover,
noone ever knew.
He understood everything,
took his loss in his stride,
of the senses he had, he was the king.
Everyone, of him should hold a high pride.
The music became my journey by VocalDepths, literature
Literature
The music became my journey
My voyage, started like the first chords of a piano coming to life again,
They were untuned, but steady, rusty but clear,
Each note led to the next and never in vain,
Paths crossed mine, and I felt I'd be swallowed in noise.
I struggled to be heard, to be needed in a orchestra of a new sound,
In a place from which I'd have to be weaned, but in which I never wanted to be.
Everywhere I looked, I found no liberation from the noise was to be found.
Its then I saw its notes, as a delicate bright white light in a cacophony of colours,
The music bursts from each instrument now,
And in the hum of sound, with my love I flourish,
I've heard n
The Misunderstanding of uselessness by VocalDepths, literature
Literature
The Misunderstanding of uselessness
I want to be Useful,
I want to show i see,
that the cup isn't half full,
but how can i live, how can i be?
When i know you
but don't let on,
when i understand
but i can't be strong.
For i'm scared of loosing you
so i'm scared of being close,
because misunderstandings, though not new,
have never been so morose.
A haze of low heavy sky,
obscures the view from my eye,
away from the outdoors i shy
in with the warmth i lie.
I watched the birds determination as they try to fly,
as any noise is swept away with their cry.
Out on the hills a figure i see,
easily mistaken for a lonesome tree,
tall, pale, but bold was she,
and by no means couped in a house like me.
Her hair, her nature so wild, so free,
she seemed bound by no decree.
On awakening from a dream,
down the window the rain does stream
everything turned to grey from green.
I could be outside,
only a sheet of thin glass between, i sighed,
and then the ancient door i tried,
letting
Fire on the horizon
If i ask you, will you spare me?
roaring red flames
If i kneel to you, will you pass me?
fire i love you,
A emotion inside me clashes
With another, fire i fear you
Noone escapes your lashes
With their heart intact, un cracked.
The thoughts are loud
they deafen me, from inside,
I try to concentrate, try to create a calm shroud
but the thoughts, are too loud.
They come from within, crawling
they shout at me, like a billion voices
its only the one, yet i feel in a mass im falling,
until you whisper my name and through the crowds,
I hear you calling.
Theres a silence. That noone understands.
Its black outside. But to my eyes a burning torch my heart hands.
Im not afraid. Though i cower at the sight of the dark.
Im not afraid. Though the silence is full, i hear in my head a beautiful singing lark.
When i leave the door. When i need to be free,
However many times i try to leave, you know how scared i'll be.
So your forever there, Protecting me.
You hit the brick wall hard, at full speed.
Stop for a second, the bricks mid-air, suspended,
then realisation, thoughts, pain, they blundered down.
The strings cut and you shown up, the clown.
Personification of Lost Love by VocalDepths, literature
Literature
Personification of Lost Love
Theres a woman in the corner,
A pink eerie mist creeps around her feet.
Theres a atmosphere of knowledge.
As if to this she is no foreigner.
Her eyes observe.
Her Skin is pale, white and young,
her lips are swollen, red, stark against her icy skin.
Her broken harp, now half strung.
Noone is watching.
She holds the instrument carefully.
She cradles it with her arm,
she shakes slightly, fearfully,
Her eyes remembering.
The garment she wears is perfect,
the dress and viel, simple, white and pure,
The gash across her chest its only defect.
She stares you down.
Her hair is long and greasy,
her posture, cowering and defeated,
her
Just got DeviantART.. it probably already tells you that, if your one of those people out there who know how to use this thing. But, i'm telling you again.
If you don't like poems, still read some once in a while. Unless you really don't like them.. then dont bother. But they are good for somethings.