You, me, and the stars by Forest Wayne (free children's ebooks pdf TXT) 📗

did

he felt secured,

everything he ever wanted.

To be away, far from the world

was what he thought, he wanted the most.

But not so long he found out

he had built something

so beautiful, so magnificent,

something he could not escape.

The curse of loneliness.

He had on his own shouldered solitude,

and the weight was now becoming too heavy.

With no one to share this burden

he became sad,

he wondered why he never thought to build bridges.

The Best Of Us

Oh, Lucifer who will love you.

Who will hold you when the night falls cold, you self

righteous soul.

Do you not see the wind around.

Why does everyone run from you?

Your heavenly wings glow with such darkness.

And the people will cast stones all around you,

they do not know you bleed scarlet as they do.

But even the best of us holds a bit of darkness that the

light cannot reach.

Where The Red Thorns Grow

Alas, my dear moon,

I will take you to the fields of my heart,

you must promise me

not to shut your eyes.

 There are things I must show you.

I need you to see

Where the red thorns grow.

In a grassy field awaiting the snow

where the colors hide

 ashame of its glow.

In a night where the day will never come.

Where hearts are ridden in pain bereft of

love to heal

Of all the dames who came to see none could

bear to look.

My heart is laid to rest underneath this

graveyard, a place where an ocean once rose,

and love effortlessly flowed.

Please you must see.

Lady Midnight.

Sometimes I wonder

If the night curses

the day in spite for

leaving her in darkness.

Maybe like the rest of us she knew

she was always

destined to be alone.

And even when the tide changes

everyday,

she's forced to repeat

the cycle without hesitation.

el romántico Solitario

My heart is fickle like a romantic.

I love everything too greatly,

and even when they leave

me

cold,

and shivering

in the night.

I can't help but wonder

if they found a little

warmth in the darkness.

Haunted

The sounds of your falling tears

will remain the

saddest memory

I've ever had the misfortune of carrying.

Although I turned away in silence after words

Unspoken.

The moment still haunts me.

Kindness for ashes

What is thought to be love, when humanity is

desolate.

The grasses are no longer green,

and the earth will fall from its axis.

The mountains will give way.

And all who lived left nothing but sorrows, they loved

as selfishly as they could, but they left her lonely,

laughing through their crooked teeth.

She's the lonely outcast with too many neighbors,

too many of whom, who cared too little for her.

She watched from the shadows and gave to them all

she could.

But daily she is cut down by the roots and made into

ashes.

Her name, vilified by men whom she loved and

sheltered with her branches.

All this for her kindness.

The Color Of Broken

Sometimes beauty exist

only in the shadows

of haunted lovers

and memories long forgotten.

And if I should find

life only interesting

at the end of a whiskey bottle,

it is because I'm broken.

PART 3

A Chapter For Other Poems

"Art takes time—

Monet grew his gardens

before he painted them."

—Atticus

Dear Reader

years later,

when we've found love hidden

beneath our lonely hearts.

The end I promise you, will not be so fatally tragic.

Those Wishes We Made.

Wishes are stars that faded before touching the skies.

If only we had prayed a little,

loved a little.

Maybe then,

maybe just then,

those wishes would have soared through.

The tale of the boy who would not move

When love inspires

a fool to jump through hurdles.

He sits in a dream,

waiting on Neverland,

like a boy with a broken bow.

And if someday destiny should ever call,

I hope he won't sit still, waiting for a past love

that is now long gone.

I feel like an empty shell of glowing shadows.

dancing through the night,

trying to make sense of the beauty

before my eyes.

My love,

my dear star,

you stand all alone in the dark

and yet you shine.

Untitled

Somewhere deep down you know

your gods are murderers,

your heroes are scared,

your dreams are an illusion,

your love is ephemeral,

your lies are detrimental.

For who walk through a field of thorn

blinded, without the lights.

We are colorful playthings.

A cheerful expression of a dying universe.

We don't mind the ride before the

darkness.

We just dance.

The starry truth

I'm sorry for the tears,

beautiful things often make me cry.

Ever since I was a boy

I've always thought of beauty as the most compelling

force of nature.

The Starry truth is no one ever hated the night sky,

because beauty exists everywhere, even in the

simplest of things,

the ones we overlook without appreciation.

You don't even need to wander off into the streets of

Paris or the intricate structures of Rome

to know that beneath you, above you and within you

it's there,

if only you just look.

December

It was cold in December.

but the heavens dared to send forth rain,

within blowin' winds of harmattan.

crying between bounties of heavenly rain,

came the darkened clouds roaring heavily across the

northern skies.

Lonely, lonely the heavens cried.

Love and ash

When the night falls into the day,

the world becomes lonely,

And lovers become poets.

Was not true love meant to be destroyed,

in the end when we all become nothing but ash.

Woman Made.

One time I died,

but twice you came.

And three times I had to mourn.

For