Silent Blues In The Park

[TheIllyricist]

Burn the scars away, this dripping ash
Rains monochrome tears on colored verses;
Words sung in crooned rehearsals
Of wished time reversals,
never to come

Still in stillness of the wanted was
She wandered through the endless gray
Poisoned by golden sunlight
Of tainted azure seas accompanied
By orchestral doves, singing
The blues.

The raven temptress plays
Out of tune, whirlwind tempests
Soothed by her paper wrapped instrument,
Of a death cloak

Reaper of the smoking wisps
Death, death, bring sweet death
In pleasant kiss upon these cuts
With a firebrand, the dancing blazes
Touch, and scorch the haunts
Of wretched pale chalkboards
Bleeding from her father’s fury,
Un-cleaned; mother lost
In a Devil’s den promising
Phantom pleasures

Staring faces, she can’t embrace them
Pull up the sleeves to erase her self-hatred
But no blanket can heal the hues
That darkened spectrum, of faded
Blacks and blues; they’re tattooed,
Permanent moons of her cosmic abuse
Yet she missed him and her; the ruined glue
Of a house collapsed -- divided in two
But no forgiveness comes for those who used
A home of three with plenty of tools
Yet she always asks,

“Why was I the one who was screwed?”

One, two, three, inhalations
And walking traffic continues
Back in line as her dying muse
Coughs a crimson friend, the end,
Amiable Elysium but Hades
Is welcome too.

No more shells,
There are none left to break
On these decaying shores

Rotten pendulum, she paints it
With hollow rage

Knock, knock, knock on the door
Checked out, no one’s home
In quietness where she wonders
If her book will be buried,

The girl hopes it is so
So she can become the pendulum
And swing, with the freedom
Gifted by nothingness

Back and forth
Back and forth
Back and forth

[Emily]

Burn the scars away, this dripping ash Niiiiice opener. To think that we could burn scars away just by letting ash drop from our cigarette onto our mental state of mind, is a lush way with words, and I've gotta hand it to you. Lovely introduction.
Rains monochrome tears on colored verses; What a standout line. I want to repeat it but it's right next to me lol. I'd fill the page up with those words. They're really good words. Good blending of emotions and imagery.
Words sung in crooned rehearsals
Of wished time reversals,
never to come Spot on. Never to come. These last three lines work well with this whole introduction to the piece. So far, so good.

Still in stillness of the wanted was
She wandered through the endless gray
Poisoned by golden sunlight This line interests me. I find the first line in this stanza a reflection of her wanting what was. In the second line she's
wondering around the grey atmosphere, which is 'toxic' now, even in sunlight itself.
Of tainted azure seas accompanied
By orchestral doves, singing
The blues. Sweet lines here. You're getting on my nerves lol.

The raven temptress plays
Out of tune, whirlwind tempests
Soothed by her paper wrapped instrument, I reckon it's because she's smoking Malboro when she should have been smoking green, to even out some colours in her darkish world lol. The paper wrapped instrument line, ....was really clever. Your musical influences here show and add to the piece, an element of sophistication in a framed picture of meloncholy, gloom and murky mindsets.
Of a death cloak Perfect.

Reaper of the smoking wisps Interesting line.
Death, death, bring sweet death
In pleasant kiss upon these cuts This line. This one. There's a lot to be said about the imagery in this one. It brings back childhood memories and so much more. It's a loaded line that reaches it's potential.
With a firebrand, the dancing blazes
Touch, and scorch the haunts
Of wretched pale chalkboards
Bleeding from her father’s fury,
Un-cleaned; mother lost
In a Devil’s den promising
Phantom pleasures Your poetic ability astounds me still. I've been reading your work for only a while, but with every word said, you're able
to catch my attention wholeheartedly. The air in your wording is golden.

Staring faces, she can’t embrace them
Pull up the sleeves to erase her self-hatred I like the soft rhyme here. And the descriptions.
But no blanket can heal the hues Ahh, that's beautiful. So nice.
That darkened spectrum, of faded
Blacks and blues; they’re tattooed, Ugh, I'm getting depressed lol.
Permanent moons of her cosmic abuse cosmic abuse? no way. I like it.
Yet she missed him and her; the ruined glue
Of a house collapsed -- divided in two you know, the rhymes really make it here. The meshing of rhyme and non rhyme blends well. You've done it in an elegant way and it doesn't stand out, just adds flavour to an already spicy and sweet dish.
But no forgiveness comes for those who used
A home of three with plenty of tools
Yet she always asks,

“Why was I the one who was screwed?”

One, two, three, inhalations
And walking traffic continues walking traffic? that's great. good imagery and personification.
Back in line as her dying muse
Coughs a crimson friend, the end, this could have been the end and it still would have rocked. Somthing about finishing off a piece with 'the end' but it ending just like this. Nice.
Amiable Elysium but Hades
Is welcome too. You have some elegant touches in your wording TheIllyricist. There's a nice poise your pieces hold.

No more shells,
There are none left to break
On these decaying shores

Rotten pendulum, she paints it
With hollow rage

Knock, knock, knock on the door
Checked out, no one’s home The emptiness of heart and soul transcends to every crevice of her body and mind, and works its way into the park she's walking into, into the background she came from, into the future she's creating.
In quietness where she wonders There we go.
If her book will be buried, Wow. Her book. Her story. Her life. Her.

The girl hopes it is so
So she can become the pendulum
And swing, with the freedom
Gifted by nothingness

Back and forth
Back and forth
Back and forth

I'm tripping on the imagery of that pendulum. Tripping on the back and forth motion. Tripping on the hypnotic effect this outro has on me. I like 'her'. You've drawn her beautifully dark and fractured. You've painted her with a sympathetic, empathetic brush. You've got your colours down pat. Your atmosphere thick. Your story line bold.
Your imagery clear. I think you did an amazing job on this one TheIllyricist. You've got so much talent to share.
I love reading your work. We've got a great body of writers in pc at the moment and you, without a doubt, are one of the best. Such a pleasure reading this work.

Great Read.

Thank you.