alextheft

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did someone say 'm sick? you might be right, pal

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  • alextheft 2d

    The waves of the sky
    Chuckle looking up,
    The land of lush green
    Quiet...
    Concrete over bricks
    And chains of endless roads,
    Scratches and parch
    The lush green
    Quiet...
    Claustrophobic world,
    And a sight of circling birds,
    The waters in the sky still shifting
    The green,
    Resilient.
    ©alextheft

  • alextheft 2w

    The legend

    The prince is Dead,
    & the princess was never born,
    Damsels of every town
    Are myths of dawn,
    No men did she know
    Would celebrate her existence,
    Every soul bound lover
    Had fetish for skin,
    All victims,
    Vows of wombs and services laid
    On wedding hearth
    Where he would be born

    Says the legend,

    But every time that he reincarnates
    And ties promises of love,
    He ends up making every woman,
    A damsel,
    Looking out of the window for that Princess,
    The fragile, the epitome,
    But the Goddess he yearns for
    Is a myth,
    For the prince every turn he dies,
    He dies with a widow weeping beside
    who loved him but he never did,

    Why couldn't he just fall in love with the woman
    Not for a foolish
    Mirage.
    ©alextheft

  • alextheft 3w

    Kind people

    There's this thing with kind people,
    They can have ambitions
    But they'll always look sideways
    To when they could,
    They'll wait,
    Like Fools,
    Can use the term narcissistic,
    But never be one,
    Oh, kind folks,
    Never do they last in long run,
    They weep,
    But more for others
    All those headaches prevail
    Life long,
    To when they can earn
    Their dignity,
    But these kind folks
    Might as well die
    Poor,
    And take those memories to the grave
    How calm are they when
    Life gives up on their valour,
    While we,
    Can't even sleep well at night.
    ©alextheft

  • alextheft 4w

    Ghosts

    Spirits levitate in seldom truth,
    What if the ghosts we see
    Are the actualities
    Of what we left
    Buried or barren,
    The incomplete and laden
    Grooved to the hinges
    Of what is
    Or what could have been
    We all have left behind some ghosts
    To an alternate choice, we once made,
    Those dead apparitions
    Stride forever
    Like regrets deep in chest,
    Spirits are not fearsome
    If the regrets aren't grave,
    For who stiffens at one mirage
    Has choked his true will once.
    ©alextheft

  • alextheft 6w

    Kingmaker,
    The alone & forgotten,
    who's name has withered just like her
    Skin,
    All of the nobles would surely remember
    her with hate & disgust since childhood,

    It were hers, the old hands that picked up
    the crown & didn't let it crumble,
    O, she was a heartless whore,
    Who looked for an heir in times not needed,
    So, when it came to ownership and gore
    She could end it with a name

    Rumours were no new foes, just like
    When,
    The corridors spoke of how she fed on jewels
    While her room was pathetic like a rug,
    None of the kind, none of adaptable,
    She was what she was the day they called her

    Kingmaker,
    For efforts of her husband
    Who now slept in the world of god's
    & She on a hearth of wars,
    One would say she was betrothed
    To the throne,
    The way she looked at it,
    Not wanting,
    Only praising
    Not gold
    But worth.
    ©alextheft

  • alextheft 7w

    Paint me a sun
    Among clouds, smudged
    Not bright as if rising to when,
    Setting down, Singing a prayer
    To when I hear a lullaby, Paint me
    A sun, with its reflection in the sea,
    While no cloud is mirroring its charm,
    In a clear sky, to when it showers over me,
    Could you paint me a sun as such?
    ©alextheft

  • alextheft 8w

    Heartless one and all,
    Carrying travel bags
    Of broken fragments
    To find the right pieces,
    Rusted
    Whether waned,

    Some on fire,
    Some burning with,
    Empty bags
    Or overwhelmed,

    Heartless are the fulfilled,
    Still smuggling for extra pieces,
    That want wishing ill

    And
    Travel bags, O, those leather bags,
    Are travelling everywhere,
    Watch for the contents.


    ©alextheft

  • alextheft 16w

    To the fellow mates,
    who think moving on can occur in a snap,
    It surely can,
    The victim is the foe he's sparring,
    & those picturized load of memories,
    Take a while to be boxed,
    While a new apartment awaits barren,
    The old one tends to show
    Lost & Damaged clips of
    Past,
    The retreat to rejuvenation,
    & buying new furniture,
    Placing it right,
    To make it HOME,
    Can't
    Occur in a snap,

    Neither can moving on.

    ©alextheft

  • alextheft 16w

    It's no wonder why
    A simple truth is kept
    In the taverns
    & sunken streets,

    Because it is filthy, itself,
    And so curious are some
    That they tred down
    Those dishonored corners,

    Just to return home laughing,
    In one hand something to quench,
    & In other,
    Some broken dreams,

    Because if it was sold in grocery sales,
    We'd all be drunkards.





    ©alextheft

  • alextheft 17w

    How did I react when I got an empty gift box?


    Yes,
    I got one at my birthday,
    No specific prank to smell,
    But it sat on my lap,
    Quietly and hell...
    I felt like crushing it
    And the one who made it past,
    But in humble gamble of curtseys
    My memory didn't outlast,
    When all were gone
    So, was the sweet girl act,
    I ripped open the box,
    Scavenging infact,
    Written inside were words,
    And then there were from my heart,
    "Cheap, bastard"
    As I tore the side apart,
    It said, "Angry, you must be.."
    Go on, " I send you something with intent,
    A small space from my space,
    Where you can scream and vent"
    Yes, I was angry but,
    "Everytime I see you,
    It struck me that you have everything,
    And what you don't, you have no clue,
    What would I pleasure you with,
    A vintage book set or an expensive ink,
    Don't you already have it?
    But you pretend, that your favorite colour is pink,
    Which is not true
    And that you love gowns, a lie,
    You love to fence more,
    And I know you want to drive,
    I want to gift you the reality,
    This isn't where you belong,
    And this cardboard is your heart,
    Rip it all you want and hide it under the veil,
    But then find the pieces,
    The real pieces you made of your heart,
    Let the edges bleed the fear,
    And start,
    Again." The next thing I did
    Was perhaps stupid,
    I tore the box and dumped it,
    Gone were the words of the cupid,
    With the corpses of the gowns,
    I so hated, all the dumb things that I bought,
    I kept them out of my house,
    To be stolen or to rot,
    The cupid was right,
    But next time I recieve an empty one,
    I would burn it first
    Then saying, "Welcome".
    ©alextheft