Wicked

If the face of a man was a portrait of his personality

It would be blue, now red, now safe

Some would be abstract and open to interpretation,

Some fearful,

Others sweet and beautiful,

Others faceless,

If the eyes of a man held the expression of his heart

They would shine bright, now dark, now wicked

Wicked for he could see to the very depths of your soul

Wicked, for his smile could melt the heart of a goddess

His words like sweet nectar, will trap…

Flip a coin, and his passions fiery and fearful, not for the faint of heart

Will be the oppressor,

But if his eyes could betray the extent of his conduct,

There will be no lilies trapped in webs of poisonous honey

For they would fleet away in an instant

And all will be plain as day.

-Nemi B

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Words

And there are no words, and there have been no words,
For your eyes speak truths I can only dream,
Truths that I have only dreamed,Image result for heartbreak
And there is no sound, yet the silence screams,
It screams that the end, is upon us,
But is it truly?
There goes that burning, the one that lingers on my heart,
It says different,
For the world over I have been, and deep down I know, as I have always…
There will never be another you.

-Nemi B

Image Credit: Google Images

 

 

The Haunting

But will it crumble at my touch?
Or burn until we fall?
The elevating sounds only then they heed my call,Image result for romance painting
The sounds a’rich with color that only ears can see,
To you myself I give, to you myself I leave,
So that I am not, but I am…
Beyond all comprehension I babble like a fool,
I babble through my fingers against the tender keys,
Will it crumble at my touch, the flesh above your bones?
Will this burn until we fall?
And have none left to call?
Do you feel my quickened pulse? The fables left concealed?
Of your eyes, your lips, the haunting

The haunting of your gaze and the hands that play like fate,
The haunting of your smile, I shall perish at this rate,
Love me now or never, down the cliffs we roll… to jagged edges and rippled waters
To you myself I give, to you myself I leave,
So that I am not, but I am
Can you tell of the fables? Can you feel my pulse?
For by your eyes, your lips, I am haunted
It would burn until we fall, and none will be left standing,
For if the world began today, it could not have been later,

Whence first our eyes beheld, did we know the game of fate?
Or like mere mortals were we led unbeknownst?
For my life, you have altered to the very strings that bind, gentle sighs, your laughter, you haunt me

I babble through my fingers against the tender keys, do not you hear the music?
From you it was begot, it’s written in your eyes, it’s carved upon your lips,
It taunts the blood within so that it boils,
I shall perish at this rate!
Apaixionado por você, ou meu coração está louco!

I babble through my fingers against the tender keys, and time is endless…
Of your eyes, your lips, I am haunted.

-Nemi B

 

Image Credit: Google Images

 

All is vanity

Image result for jewels paintingShe rips her heart out thinking it will stop the pain,
Hoping to turn cold, like ice and fails
She lets go of the one she cares about because it makes her feel insane, because all is vanity, all is vain.
Emotions play like chords on a guitar,
Feelings none but she can explain, but not with words,
Not with words,
Do not suffer her to speak, for her thoughts are confusion but her heart is sure,
So let her show you…
But, you refuse her,
You stay her hand and refuse her comfort
You shun her because your walls are high and mighty
But you do not see, for you are blind,
Blind to behold that only one bold can venture unarmed into the lion’s den,
Or one foolish…foolish with emotion because all is vanity, all is vain,
You fail to see that which you have been served on a platter of gold,
Until it rots and gathers the flies so that it must be cast out,
For all is vanity and all is vain… and even the best of meals will rot untouched
Comfort refused, silence for compassion and coldness for warmth…a punishment ill received,
A punishment that turns sweetness to venom against its will.
Those high walls…they will not keep,
There will come a warmth persistent in its craft that the irons would melt, and you will find that all is vanity,
And all is vain.

-Nemi Boyo

 

 

Image credit: google images

The mirage by night

Wine-puring-from-bottle-into-a-glassSwirls of aromatic wine,
Spicy, dry, full bodied and awake,
Laughter, decadent, and yet checked,
Emotions touring high until they burst into passion like exploding pillars,
Serenading music, with tones on wings that soar…
Whispering words that swiftly lift the spirits,
A touch that comforts, a voice that soothes…
Assurance lingers until the dawn creeps in to peep,
And like a mirage all dissipates, fading as if it was, and always…a dream,
Eyes twinkling blue, now grey, and now green,
A picture of the mind?
Or a picture real and true?
For he vanishes by the light of the sun,
And never does his face see morn’
But always does he leave behind, picturesque dreams and visions of hope.

-Nemi Boyo

 

Image credit: hendersonparkinn.com

I feel, so I’m alive

to-be-aliveAt least I can see the trees,
And I feel, so I’m alive,
And I can touch the drops… they fall against my pane,
And no I am not alone, because the wind responds,
The echoes are my own, my own, my own,

The silence bids me softly so that I can sleep,
And even though there is struggle,
To my strength I keep,
You’re weak if you give up, and not because you cry
You’re weak if you give in, and not because you sigh.window-tree

I feel, so I’m alive,
From my bed I see the trees,

And even though there is struggle,
To my strength I keep,
And no I’m not alone, because the wind responds,
The echoes are my own, my own, my own.

-Nemi Boyo

 

Image Credit (retrieved from): http://www.dingtwist.com/to-be-alive/

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