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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


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Read books online » Poetry » chanson d'amour by OldCrow (top 10 most read books in the world .TXT) 📖

Book online «chanson d'amour by OldCrow (top 10 most read books in the world .TXT) 📖». Author OldCrow



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Descendants of Luna,
Beware the shell of a man
That has lost his heart
For he has nothing to loose
And nothing to gain
A notch and a trophy
That cannot fill the void
Left in his chest
By a creature so vile
As to hollow his soul
Your very flesh he desires
Without thought of remorse
Or concern for the heart
That warms the body he craves
Like a ghost that drinks
From the bottle of wine
Trying to remember
What he savored before
But left empty and guessing
What he was drinking for…

My Angel of Death




How I wish that you were vampire
Vampire with clawed fingers and pointed teeth
Tear the flesh from my bone
Sink your fangs to my throat
Drink the blood from my vein
Drain my heart of life
So that you may grow stronger
Stronger and more powerful
Than the will of the heart
That binds me to you

My sweet angel of death
That haunts the halls of my heart
Wanders its dusty corridors
Like a vagrant specter
Lost and unsure
A killer without malice
Whose very presence
Crumbles the foundation of my soul
Nulls my defenses
And leaves me bare

If only you could see
The heartache in your wake
The pain under the mask that covers my face
Or hear the truth in my words
Unfiltered and raw
Behold the silver in my love
In all its luster
Hammered into shape
On the jeweler’s anvil
And place it on your finger

Good night My Angel of Death
The walls have all fallen
And the moat has run dry
The well has turned sour
And the ground frozen solid
No more left to give
Of a love that was true
From a heart gave to you
I bid you farewell
I bid you adieu

My Dream Girl




As Luna herself
Pulled from the gentle waters
An angel of light

A luminous ray
So graceful and beautiful
That seraphs should cry

Fair ivory skin
As touched by Aphrodite,
Pygmalion’s dream

With ebony locks
Woven of the softest silk
Red rose petal lips

Her voice like magic
A lullaby to my heart
That tickles my ear

The truth in her eyes
Of a spirit so lively
Infectious with glee

A guidon for all
The very essence of life
Beauty and grace

Dream Girl?




It’s a sad night
A sad night for me
A night of dreams
Dreams of a girl
That haunts my heart
Haunts my heart
With a magical voice
That echoes all my hopes
All my hopes and all my dreams
Of love fulfilled
Through a lifetime
Hand in hand
A lifetime with her
My Sweet Angel
The angel of my dreams
My Dream Girl
That makes me cry
That fills my eyes with that putrid bile
That chokes the voice of my heart
That cries to be heard
The voice that burns inside my chest
Muffled by fear
Of answers unknown
Answers to questions
I’m afraid to ask
Truths, I don’t want to face
Truths of want and love
That are not mine
Not meant to be
Not meant for me

For Want of Love




The heart cries out
Amongst the screams of doubt
From the head that shouts
“SHUT UP YOU FOOL!
She is only going to hurt you.”

To which replies
The heart that cries
With longing sigh
“Better to dance and go home alone
Than sit against the wall all night.”

Yet warnings of pain
The head maintains
With relentless reign
“A friend is she, open you eyes and see;
That is all you will ever be.”

But like an idiot savant
The heart wants
What the heart wants
“For Sweet Angels song and one more dance
I’ll brave the pain, come what may.”

With logic’s stance
Hurt, not worth the chance
For hopeful romance
“She plays with you like a toy
And hides her heart for a love not yours.”

But the rhythmic drone
Of the heart’s intone
Drowns the cries that groan
“In the end, if it comes to that, I’ll not regret a single step.
For the dance with her and a chance for love
Is worth what hurt I may endure.”

Aye Veros




Aye Veros
My old friend
My old love
My beautiful China Doll
My beautiful Spanish Lady of legend and lore’
Your grace and charisma trembled me to my core
I feel the chains of guilt pelting me
Tearing at my flesh
Gnarled barbs ripping at my bones
Spilling my blood and exposing the coward inside
I am so sorry My Love
So sorry I could not save you
Our brittle, wrinkled grasp we will never know
Flashes of smiles and happy times
Are torments now
Daggers of pain
Of could have been
A chapter of my life
Half as long, now closed forever
In her eyes I will always see you
In her smile I will always feel you
In my heart I will always have you
I promised to always take care of you
To always be there for you
And to that end I dearly tried
Goodbye Doll
You always were, My Love

The Rage Inside



The rage inside
The man that hides
Behind the mask
He dawns each day
To live with those
That need to see
Its gilded façade
To let him be

The anger inside
I HATE YOU ALL!
My guilty soul
That wants to flee
From all that hold
A bind to me
With silver chains
I can’t set free

When fire dances
In the sky
Engulfs the clouds
Behind my eyes
Boils the rage
In a cauldron of doubt
Surfaces guilt
Of moments not sought

What can you say?
I don’t already know;
The hurt will pass?
The guilt not warranted?
These are mine
For me to feel
My demons to banish,
Not yours to steel

Quietude



It seems the sand has swollen, wet with worry
It won’t fall through to the chamber below
Seven bells on the middle watch
And I can’t hear myself breath over the rambling’s of my mind
In my chamber of nightmares I hide
The door is locked
The curtains are drawn
Trapped with the Beast that haunts the quietude of hours alone
The subject of its madness is the plight of a soul of my flesh and blood
A

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