Bad Omen: Harp's Oblivion
The Omen Picks Someone Else in the Current Day
Bliss inside adolescent;
life was a fantasy dream and free will, the softest of tunes.
In my ending, that freedom perishes into ashes.
As luck’s nemesis, I will not die in my lover’s arms;
a murder will slash me.
The childish hearts long to stay blinded by the warm sun.
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Feel the aura of darkness around me;
Countless amounts of running never lead to an escape.
Luxury is a mirror, easily in smithereens.
It's inevitable that what and who I love is gone, just the same from a former life.
As the world keeps going around, my head keeps contorting into madness.
Tell me, why did I deserve this thorn?
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It was nothing in my youth; however, I now see shadows dancing in my sight.
Chaos follows me everywhere I go like a stalker following me home;
Everyone feels pain, suffering, and death looming.
I command it to disperse and leave me at peace-
it never listens to me…
Why does a part of me feel that destruction is a symphony? Everyone’s invited
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to its concert. One day, the curse will dry me and discard me as its player.
Others still see my innocence, but I no longer see it, and despair always saw me guilty,
wishing to take that fragment of hope left.
In the night, I fear what happens if I close my eyes,
dreading tomorrow
until lethargy takes over my mind.
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If your luck is not on your side,
it's best never to smile;
an imaginary friend turned enemy, misfortune will grow into your life.
I warn you never to break the reality’s reflection;
the snap of emotions will strengthen the potency, like a violin’s discordant.
Adversity’s company turns your demise slow and agonizing.
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I wish that life will improve;
breathing will be easier, and the splintery steps will clear.
The essence achieves balance, soothing the harp’s chords.
Malevolence will lose its harmful conjure.
Alas, my story as a human is failing and ending in choir;
I’m a bad omen.
About the Creator
Ace Melee
Hello, everyone! Creative writing is an essential asset for me since it frees my imagination from getting hit by the barrier of the skull. It hurts when it's locked in and roars when oppressed- it was destined to soar.
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The Squeeze
– The Pricey Luxury Badge vs the Hovering Hulk – Most of us have a problem with car doors putting dents on the sides of our cars; we'd like to take up two spaces but then we'd get key'd out of spite if we did. Currently the 'Compact' spots are occupied by Schlong-Schlinging oversized trucks that have their Tuckus' so far out they block the drive through aisles; I'm probably the only one that's noticed.
By Jay Kantor5 days ago in Humor
Comments (3)
You have laid my soul bare.
This poem appeals to the fighter in me. Well written, Ace.
So many times I feel the dark shadows following me. Yes, it sure is difficult to ignore and banish them. But, I keep trying. Your poem reminds me that I will always be trying and life goes on.