Previous Account: frostic

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  • fr0stic 21w

    If taken seriously,
    Wind can speak a little louder,
    It's words would be a bit more silent.
    A little too meaningful, for soul.

  • fr0stic 21w


    Cups of emptiness,
    Smuggled into coffee shops.
    Filled with air, they breathe.
    Minds clustered with the nothingness,
    They feel.

    A little too much information
    About their pasts.
    Too much too little memories,
    That went too fast.

    Told by the wind,
    That times will never come to past,
    They wander about the streets,
    Chugging on every glass.

    Cups of emptiness,
    Smuggled into coffee shops.
    Filled with the air,
    That obviously didn't last.

  • fr0stic 28w

    What are words,
    That we live and die by their mercy?

  • fr0stic 41w

    Along seashore,
    Were footprints,
    Once hewn in sand.

    Along seashore,
    Were castles,
    Once in demand.

    Along seashore,
    Two universes,
    Were hand in hand.

    Along seashore,
    Was a love,
    This world tried,
    To reprimand.

  • fr0stic 42w

    It was then,
    I looked onto all the Earth,
    And lo',
    I saw that charm paraded
    The vast.
    I saw the fleeting beauty
    Of ocean eyes,
    And radiant smiles,
    Wandering mortality.
    It was then,
    I pondered,
    My reason for love.
    For I finally acknowledged,
    That charm is a thief,
    In the palms of many.
    That theft often occurs,
    In the scorch of sun.
    That beauty can cost me,
    An eternity.

    So I adored the Lord,
    And His creation.
    But my fear for Him,
    Shattered the roofs.
    Lest I be apprehended,
    By colourful eyes,
    Hypnotic gestures,
    And the seductress,
    Whose end leads to dark roses.

  • fr0stic 43w

    That's the thing with wanderers.
    They rarely choose
    A destination.

  • fr0stic 43w

    There's art in the way
    Flowers wilt.
    There's heart in the way
    Leaves dwindle.

  • fr0stic 43w

    I feel afar
    From moon.
    I feel stuck
    In a dying noonday,
    Seeking desperately,
    A non-existent horizon.

  • fr0stic 43w

    Some hours,
    I eat joy,
    For food.

  • fr0stic 43w

    I want to know
    What it means,
    To live.
    To breathe.
    To be alive.
    I want to fly.