well not too much to tell, i love reading and writing.
and i am more of a closet poet.............
my best friend pushed me to write and she is pretty scary if she puts her mind on something.
recently someone told me i need to elaborate more about me.
there is nothing special to elaborate that's all.
i have two brothers, a younger sister.
i started reading novels when... more »
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Lucifera Santez Poems
A Face To Remember
Smile with me, Don’t shed a tear, My pain is enough, Your agony,
Color of darkness, Hue of sorrow, Shade of pain, Embodied in that bloom,
Gleaming pond of maiden tears, Adorned by wildflowers on its banks, As butterflies rush on blooms, She watches them from shining pond,
If my heart would have been page, It would burn to ashes right now, If my love would have been cage, You would have died from too much affection,
Breath Of Life
Gone was his breathing, Gone were heart beats, The silent pulses, Screamed of his decease.
Bruised, battered, broken and scared, I lie on concrete,
Bunch Of Roses
I walk along his grave, the same obsidian headstone gleaming in sun his name carved in archaic letters
The stark whiteness is all I see, Perhaps it’s just reflection, Of conflicting emotions in me, Every facet with a brilliant glow,
Her hair long, blonde and red, Fanning across the velvet white, Satin sheets draping her body, Moon creating a halo of light.
The raven locks, trailing on silk, Long lashes adorning his closed eyes, His beautiful full lips sigh, Part in love, part in sleep,
What Is Love?
What is love? Is it the increased heartbeats? Is it tilting of your world, Or perhaps an amorous kiss.
Your hair, Your eyes, Your lips, Your smiles,
Cloaked in the mists of emerald, A drop of rain on your lips, A gleam in your ageless whiskey eyes, You arch in me,
Running hastily in the gardens How I fell and scraped my knees Amid those roses and hyacinths And I used to cry
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
A Face To Remember
Smile with me,
Don’t shed a tear,
My pain is enough,
I can’t bear.
It is I, who is going away,
Dying isn’t fascinating,
With you by my side,
I can say.
Please, please let me die alone,
So that I can at least
Shriek with pain and moan.
When you sit by my side,
I forget my pain,
I just hang in dark abyss
Of moss green eyes, your eyes.
To look at you is unbearable,
‘Cause it’s I who is deserting you.
I am not doing it by will
It’s my fate’s turn, they say
You go to church to avert it
And in there you cry and ...