50% off for a limited time!

Get Core

Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

Get Help and Send Feedback

literature

Wasteland

Deviation Actions

ArtsyAmbassadorArt

Published: Apr 8, 2015

799 Views

Literature Text

Wasteland

Lonely, Dying

Our homes burn, we’re crying.

Hope tossed, lives lost, our haven now

Nothing

Light Inside (1)

BradenYoung

$5.00

400

Download

More by ArtsyAmbassadorArt

Literature

20

It was a heart aching year now on its heart stopping sequel. needing break from the heartache but facing trials of no equal. It's like a ritual recasting, an infection spreading viral, little time splits calm and storm no warning, just arrival It's become a second nature to second guess myself. resolutions I aimed to keep sitting dusty on their shelf. Opting out of optimism to tread cautious on this slope, without a map I forge a path thinly paved with hope.

Recommended Literature

Literature

Ghosts

Ghosts lie and lie inside my brain, They echo, echo and drive me insane. I can't find a way to shut them all out, With their whispers of mistrust and doubt. I can't sleep with all the silent sound As thoughts just echo around and around. Soon I won't be able to pretend. Soon, I'll more than crave the end. I'm sick of the migraine within my skull, I'm sick of these thoughts I cannot cull, I'm sick of the little voices inside my head Dragging me down until I wish I was dead. Growing desperate, fighting a war Against myself til I can't take anymore. Always battling the ghosts within Until I join them in the realm of sin...

Literature

Depressed Again

As night does fade of sorrow I drink deep. For reasons none tears fall and wash away the will to sleep. No song flutters against my lips as all I feel is a wish to disappear into shadow. Over and over I ask myself why. It's so obvious no answers will be had this night- or any other. I despise my weakness and my tears, and wish for Oblivion, for sleep's sweet embrace. Instead I just linger in despair, hating every moment.

Literature

Depression is an Option

Depression is a choice, my dear, And happiness the same You choose this illness, don’t you? What a tragic little game. Depression is an option, love Just get up out of bed Take your tears and worries And just smile now instead. Depression is a choice, you see, And so is suicide. Just sit back, kick your feet up, dear Enjoy this perfect ride. Get over your own standards Of what everyone should be. Just smile for once, and maybe You’ll be living perfectly. ... But... Depression is an illness That we feel so deep within. Why would anybody choose To write poetry on their skin? Unless there lies a reason, dear, I would not choo

Suggested Collections

Literary Works of Art

Literature

after the party.

He's drunk in the backseat. "Anna. Anna. Anna," he moans, as if my name is a broken record his throat can't stop scratching; his voice is nettles and thorns, every natural prick and annoyance. My knuckles go white on the wheel. Ryan's riding shotgun and he won't look at me. "If you need me to drive him home, I can do it," he offers sheepishly. I don't answer, just press my foot to the gas and let the engine's rusty roar engulf John's voice. I peek in the rearview mirror. John's laying across the seat like a dead trout, and I can tell Ryan hasn't even bothered to buckle his seat belt. There's a photo album in John's arms that he clings to w

Literature

Exit, Stage Left

"You're lonely," he said. Thelma jumped, startled. She might not have even heard his voice over the thumping dance music, but it was just at that moment where there was a temporary lull between songs. He stood nearby, his head slightly tilted. Thelma glanced behind her, his words ricocheting in her mind - she wasn't sure what was more surprising, what he'd said or that he'd noticed and bothered to relay this observation to her at all. He was good-looking, tall and thin with artfully spiky hair, but something about him struck her as unsettling. Perhaps it was the way he spoke, or that his eyes were oddly piercing, but either way she felt hers

Literature

Rose and Iris

They loved their garden; Mother and Daughter would spend Hours in the sun. Behind their house was Green dotted with red, yellow, Pink and countless more. Mother loved roses; Daughter preferred irises. They planted with care. They watched the sun rise While blowing dandelions, And mimicked at dusk. Their birdbaths brought in Winged visitors who were Greeted with bird seed. All meals were eaten On a polka-dot blanket; Nothing but home-cooked. Catching butterflies, Looking for funny-shaped clouds, Climbing the oak tree. They ran, danced and sang, Never tiring of their Love for each other. Daughter did not think That her

Poetry and Writing

Literature

what does it feel like to be sober at a party?

sometimes you want to spit out your teeth because you’ve been grinding them so hard under a diaphanous coating of crimson lipstick; but you know the floors already freckled with confetti- aluminum and glass and paper- and the eburnean pearls tucked away in your mouth are not able to be recycled and sometimes it’s rivulets on the back of your neck, droplets dripping like honey, because the rooms heating up from people swarming like bees; as your cheeks burgeon like crimson roses your oversized sweater becomes your only source of safety- maybe from the constant touch of others, as they bump around like lost passengers at a train

Literature

you're never hopeless

you tell me you feel hopeless as you talk with tired eyes- the sky drips with black pen ink poured on crystal cosmic lights your eyes become black vacuums- your words turn to somber sighs, and I ask you: on the darkest of nights, have you ever seen a starless sky?

Literature

Darling, Don't You Dare

To the girl who skips dinner, Because her reflection hurts more than Starving. To the boy who wears sweatshirts On hot summer days, Because he doesn’t want his mother to cry over his Scars. To the boy who weeps uncontrollably Until he falls asleep, Because it’s the only way to escape into his Dreams. To the girl who spends her days in her bedroom, Because the dark is more peaceful than her Mind. To the child who gets angry, Because no one understands. To the teens who self-harm, To the ones in recovery, To the ones that just can’t do it anymore… Stay Strong. For the girl who skips meals And the boy who wears sw

Poetry

Literature

Caged

She was a bird, trapped in an ever shrinking cage, longing to be free.

Literature

Empty

I feel Empty. i cannot heal From this Strange pain. Being hit By a train Wouldn't feel as Bad as this. They say that Ignorance is bliss But where is That? I feel Flat. I have Nothing to say. At least the pain Has gone away. For now...

Literature

Touch the Horizon

There's a cool breeze Blowing through my hair And it dances so To the rhythm of the air I'm standing on a hill Looking over oceans emerald Dotted with flowers Adorning the wild world The sun shines with mirth And I wish my smile Could beam so bright At least for a while Because in this moment I feel infinite Like I'm a part Of something brilliant The rolling waves of green Sparkle in the light Of our mother star And my hopes take flight The wind bears them away To where, I don't know But the flower petals Will show me where to go As I run among them The breeze catches them up And together we journey Rushing with no letup I shall soar a

Featured in Groups

battle cinquain crying death fighting lonely lost nohope nothing poetry ruin sadness terror war warzone fire abandoned wasteland

Not quite sure why so many war-related poem ideas are churning through my head. Perhaps it's the constant news stories and conversation topics about all the wars and terrorism going on in the Middle-East right now. Seriously people, put you're fucking nukes, rocket launchers and tanks away and start working on solving other problems like starvation, cancer, global warming, and put your billions of war fund currencies and use it for some of the other aforementioned world problems.

Anyways I hope you get something out of reading this Syllable-Cinquain poem, and feel absolutely free to share some of your feelings on the topic in the comments below.