SajkoWolfe

They dont have names, they are called by order of my writing them:
1:
In a ghastly shade,
Where residue of emotions lies,
A sharp emptiness, with the bite of a blade,
A sharp silence, within which every human cries,
Silent cries, penetrate with the sound of strife,
A 4th dimention created for those,
Who cannot stabilise,
Their desire for life.
2:
Soaring seas, breaking apart,
A vision distorted, beyond our comprehension,
Surreal thoughts created by my mind,
A literary distortion,
What Ive read, what Ive seen, what Ive experienced,
Mingle and entangle,
To create the chaos of my reality,
I do not remember anymore, what is real,
What is a memory,
And what I imagined, what I wished.
I live a half life,
Or maybe,
A double life with half the meaning.
3:
A noble obligation, to live, create, perform,
To out do the last generation, to up their ideals and their form,
I suffocate in my own aristocracy, in my own pretentions,
Set my goals too high, but fail to chase those aspirations,
A shade of my former self,
A self I barely remember,
A self fragile and beautiful, a porcelain doll,
Set on the shop self,
To be bought, to be sold,
A toy.
4:
A grotesque outline of a world I abandoned,
A burnt cinder, the love I found abandoned,
A realm of imagination, again Im abandoned,
A solitary tear, that is all that I can handle,
For truly, cast away,
Humanity is what I abandoned.
5:
All my previous ladies have few photos with me,
Although in their mind they propably have many photos of me,
Their mental photos full of hate of me,
Remember a girl who always thought of "me",
They forget the moments that I abandoned my beliefs, my stigma for them, the times I lost my "me",
And I dont know about you but thats sad for me.
They hate me,
Detest me,
Even though they were everything to me.
Is this how I feel when everything fails me?
6:
A colourful light,
Sparks that play roles of shadows,
Casting through an open window,
A colourful light,
Early, pinkish dawn,
Sharply reflecting off of the skin,
Of Gods incarnation laying amongst bed sheets.
The light seems almost fractal, almost perfect,
In the imperfection on her skin,
I see Gods work.
The light freckles that adorn her cheeks,
Cheeks of pure white, bright as lilies,
The same lilies that will decorate her funeral casket,
As the light seeks deeper, as if looking for her beauty,
Reflecting off her bare chest,
Stomach,
Thighs,
Neck,
Synergy of a form complete,
They brand me a heretic, because looking at this cannon,
I cannot help but conclude,
That if God indeed exists.
God must have the shape of a female.
7:
Quam amoena,
The way the sound falls on my lips,
Like rosepetals that flood my world,
Each a delicacy that lasts a lifetime,
A single moment, compromised of an eternity of lifetimes,
Each different, yet the same,
Quam amoena,
The petals like silk,
Touch my lips, allow me to kiss,
In my dying moments,
As I lay in an ocean of blood,
Quam amoena that today, I finally get to die.
8:
Imagine a desert,
An eternal world of emptiness.
The material is immaterial,
Snow, sand, concrete, space,
All that is consequential is the emptiness.
Now imagine a solitary figure amongst the dunes,
Wrapped in cloth, holding a sword.
A plain sword, damascus steel from an age long gone.
Crismon is the primary colour of her clothing,
A strange contrast to the gray surroundings.
As you try to grasp her appearance, you find it impossible,
As her figure flows, ever so softly, like a mountain stream.
The moment you see an image, it is long gone into nothingness.
And you realise she has no form,
An outcast, forgotten.
As you leave the scene, filled with sadness,
Take one look back at her emptiness, at her darkness,
Open your eyes, breathe deeply, feel alive
And know you survived,
Seeing the inside of my mind.
9:
Burn you distance,
Burn your self righteousness
The apocalypse has come, the world has ended,
God has abandoned us,
God has stuck a middle finger at his creation,
Picked up a bottle of vodka, poured it into his liver,
And went to make a new better world.
Sad, or maybe its not,
Because how can truth be sad if truth is the only reality and reality is simply beautiful?
Fuck your truism,
Fuck what I think,
Fuck me, fuck you, fuck everyone,
Banal,
Maybe I should make the metaphor of pandoras box,
Just to fit with this cliche?
10:
I cant sleep,
I cant really be awake either,
My world revolves around ezoterisms,
The ezoterism of my own being,
My world revolves around these
People I use
These procents I consume
This music I abuse
This poetry I destroy myself with
When I used to still care about my life
I used to cut, bleed crimson on the bright white floor tiles
Now that Ive given up I cut my mentality with this poetry
Mental self harm
11:
There are moments when words just dont flow,
Emotionless nights when apathy and darkness consumes it all,
There are moments when the words overflow,
A hateful river, flooding the plains of your world,
Between nihilism and destruction,
My plain resides,
A 4th dimention,
Full of self lies.
12:
Will anyone cry, when I am layed to rest,
A thought every person has, an easy thought,
An easy thought to make me cry however,
When I realise that while anyone will cry,
Everyone will cry,
They will all cry for the wrong me,
When my parents weep for their daughter,
My previous lovers weep from happiness that their object of hate is gone,
My friends will weep for their sister,
And I will weep for the potential that never became
Never became anything at all
13:
Drops slowly dropping of the celing,
My eyes follow them, lazy, my retinas peeling
Away the fractal nature of this moment, this feeling,
An emotion that is always too far, but somehow to close to my own begining,
A trace of love, a trace of erotism,
A trace of my long lost heart
A trace of my oversized egoism
The path of the drop, as if tracing the path of hate that I have so often traveled,
Slowly progressing, gravity pulling it towards its epitath,
A sad end, but fitting,
For the last drop of blood that sustained my living.

Any feedback, negative or positive is welcome! <3

I really think the first one is the best. 
So, keep up the sleeping deprivation... I guess?  (not the depression, nobody wants that shit)

They dont have names, they are called by order of my writing them:
1:
In a ghastly shade,
Where residue of emotions lies,
A sharp emptiness, with the bite of a blade,
A sharp silence, within which every human cries,
Silent cries, penetrate with the sound of strife,
A 4th dimention created for those,
Who cannot stabilise,
Their desire for life.
2:
Soaring seas, breaking apart,
A vision distorted, beyond our comprehension,
Surreal thoughts created by my mind,
A literary distortion,
What Ive read, what Ive seen, what Ive experienced,
Mingle and entangle,
To create the chaos of my reality,
I do not remember anymore, what is real,
What is a memory,
And what I imagined, what I wished.
I live a half life,
Or maybe,
A double life with half the meaning.
3:
A noble obligation, to live, create, perform,
To out do the last generation, to up their ideals and their form,
I suffocate in my own aristocracy, in my own pretentions,
Set my goals too high, but fail to chase those aspirations,
A shade of my former self,
A self I barely remember,
A self fragile and beautiful, a porcelain doll,
Set on the shop self,
To be bought, to be sold,
A toy.
4:
A grotesque outline of a world I abandoned,
A burnt cinder, the love I found abandoned,
A realm of imagination, again Im abandoned,
A solitary tear, that is all that I can handle,
For truly, cast away,
Humanity is what I abandoned.
5:
All my previous ladies have few photos with me,
Although in their mind they propably have many photos of me,
Their mental photos full of hate of me,
Remember a girl who always thought of "me",
They forget the moments that I abandoned my beliefs, my stigma for them, the times I lost my "me",
And I dont know about you but thats sad for me.
They hate me,
Detest me,
Even though they were everything to me.
Is this how I feel when everything fails me?
6:
A colourful light,
Sparks that play roles of shadows,
Casting through an open window,
A colourful light,
Early, pinkish dawn,
Sharply reflecting off of the skin,
Of Gods incarnation laying amongst bed sheets.
The light seems almost fractal, almost perfect,
In the imperfection on her skin,
I see Gods work.
The light freckles that adorn her cheeks,
Cheeks of pure white, bright as lilies,
The same lilies that will decorate her funeral casket,
As the light seeks deeper, as if looking for her beauty,
Reflecting off her bare chest,
Stomach,
Thighs,
Neck,
Synergy of a form complete,
They brand me a heretic, because looking at this cannon,
I cannot help but conclude,
That if God indeed exists.
God must have the shape of a female.
7:
Quam amoena,
The way the sound falls on my lips,
Like rosepetals that flood my world,
Each a delicacy that lasts a lifetime,
A single moment, compromised of an eternity of lifetimes,
Each different, yet the same,
Quam amoena,
The petals like silk,
Touch my lips, allow me to kiss,
In my dying moments,
As I lay in an ocean of blood,
Quam amoena that today, I finally get to die.
8:
Imagine a desert,
An eternal world of emptiness.
The material is immaterial,
Snow, sand, concrete, space,
All that is consequential is the emptiness.
Now imagine a solitary figure amongst the dunes,
Wrapped in cloth, holding a sword.
A plain sword, damascus steel from an age long gone.
Crismon is the primary colour of her clothing,
A strange contrast to the gray surroundings.
As you try to grasp her appearance, you find it impossible,
As her figure flows, ever so softly, like a mountain stream.
The moment you see an image, it is long gone into nothingness.
And you realise she has no form,
An outcast, forgotten.
As you leave the scene, filled with sadness,
Take one look back at her emptiness, at her darkness,
Open your eyes, breathe deeply, feel alive
And know you survived,
Seeing the inside of my mind.
9:
Burn you distance,
Burn your self righteousness
The apocalypse has come, the world has ended,
God has abandoned us,
God has stuck a middle finger at his creation,
Picked up a bottle of vodka, poured it into his liver,
And went to make a new better world.
Sad, or maybe its not,
Because how can truth be sad if truth is the only reality and reality is simply beautiful?
Fuck your truism,
Fuck what I think,
Fuck me, fuck you, fuck everyone,
Banal,
Maybe I should make the metaphor of pandoras box,
Just to fit with this cliche?
10:
I cant sleep,
I cant really be awake either,
My world revolves around ezoterisms,
The ezoterism of my own being,
My world revolves around these
People I use
These procents I consume
This music I abuse
This poetry I destroy myself with
When I used to still care about my life
I used to cut, bleed crimson on the bright white floor tiles
Now that Ive given up I cut my mentality with this poetry
Mental self harm
11:
There are moments when words just dont flow,
Emotionless nights when apathy and darkness consumes it all,
There are moments when the words overflow,
A hateful river, flooding the plains of your world,
Between nihilism and destruction,
My plain resides,
A 4th dimention,
Full of self lies.
12:
Will anyone cry, when I am layed to rest,
A thought every person has, an easy thought,
An easy thought to make me cry however,
When I realise that while anyone will cry,
Everyone will cry,
They will all cry for the wrong me,
When my parents weep for their daughter,
My previous lovers weep from happiness that their object of hate is gone,
My friends will weep for their sister,
And I will weep for the potential that never became
Never became anything at all
13:
Drops slowly dropping of the celing,
My eyes follow them, lazy, my retinas peeling
Away the fractal nature of this moment, this feeling,
An emotion that is always too far, but somehow to close to my own begining,
A trace of love, a trace of erotism,
A trace of my long lost heart
A trace of my oversized egoism
The path of the drop, as if tracing the path of hate that I have so often traveled,
Slowly progressing, gravity pulling it towards its epitath,
A sad end, but fitting,
For the last drop of blood that sustained my living.

Any feedback, negative or positive is welcome! <3

Being sleep deprived makes someone being able to create such nice poetry, huh.
I'll give it a try sometime...

They dont have names, they are called by order of my writing them:
1:
In a ghastly shade,
Where residue of emotions lies,
A sharp emptiness, with the bite of a blade,
A sharp silence, within which every human cries,
Silent cries, penetrate with the sound of strife,
A 4th dimention created for those,
Who cannot stabilise,
Their desire for life.
2:
Soaring seas, breaking apart,
A vision distorted, beyond our comprehension,
Surreal thoughts created by my mind,
A literary distortion,
What Ive read, what Ive seen, what Ive experienced,
Mingle and entangle,
To create the chaos of my reality,
I do not remember anymore, what is real,
What is a memory,
And what I imagined, what I wished.
I live a half life,
Or maybe,
A double life with half the meaning.
3:
A noble obligation, to live, create, perform,
To out do the last generation, to up their ideals and their form,
I suffocate in my own aristocracy, in my own pretentions,
Set my goals too high, but fail to chase those aspirations,
A shade of my former self,
A self I barely remember,
A self fragile and beautiful, a porcelain doll,
Set on the shop self,
To be bought, to be sold,
A toy.
4:
A grotesque outline of a world I abandoned,
A burnt cinder, the love I found abandoned,
A realm of imagination, again Im abandoned,
A solitary tear, that is all that I can handle,
For truly, cast away,
Humanity is what I abandoned.
5:
All my previous ladies have few photos with me,
Although in their mind they propably have many photos of me,
Their mental photos full of hate of me,
Remember a girl who always thought of "me",
They forget the moments that I abandoned my beliefs, my stigma for them, the times I lost my "me",
And I dont know about you but thats sad for me.
They hate me,
Detest me,
Even though they were everything to me.
Is this how I feel when everything fails me?
6:
A colourful light,
Sparks that play roles of shadows,
Casting through an open window,
A colourful light,
Early, pinkish dawn,
Sharply reflecting off of the skin,
Of Gods incarnation laying amongst bed sheets.
The light seems almost fractal, almost perfect,
In the imperfection on her skin,
I see Gods work.
The light freckles that adorn her cheeks,
Cheeks of pure white, bright as lilies,
The same lilies that will decorate her funeral casket,
As the light seeks deeper, as if looking for her beauty,
Reflecting off her bare chest,
Stomach,
Thighs,
Neck,
Synergy of a form complete,
They brand me a heretic, because looking at this cannon,
I cannot help but conclude,
That if God indeed exists.
God must have the shape of a female.
7:
Quam amoena,
The way the sound falls on my lips,
Like rosepetals that flood my world,
Each a delicacy that lasts a lifetime,
A single moment, compromised of an eternity of lifetimes,
Each different, yet the same,
Quam amoena,
The petals like silk,
Touch my lips, allow me to kiss,
In my dying moments,
As I lay in an ocean of blood,
Quam amoena that today, I finally get to die.
8:
Imagine a desert,
An eternal world of emptiness.
The material is immaterial,
Snow, sand, concrete, space,
All that is consequential is the emptiness.
Now imagine a solitary figure amongst the dunes,
Wrapped in cloth, holding a sword.
A plain sword, damascus steel from an age long gone.
Crismon is the primary colour of her clothing,
A strange contrast to the gray surroundings.
As you try to grasp her appearance, you find it impossible,
As her figure flows, ever so softly, like a mountain stream.
The moment you see an image, it is long gone into nothingness.
And you realise she has no form,
An outcast, forgotten.
As you leave the scene, filled with sadness,
Take one look back at her emptiness, at her darkness,
Open your eyes, breathe deeply, feel alive
And know you survived,
Seeing the inside of my mind.
9:
Burn you distance,
Burn your self righteousness
The apocalypse has come, the world has ended,
God has abandoned us,
God has stuck a middle finger at his creation,
Picked up a bottle of vodka, poured it into his liver,
And went to make a new better world.
Sad, or maybe its not,
Because how can truth be sad if truth is the only reality and reality is simply beautiful?
Fuck your truism,
Fuck what I think,
Fuck me, fuck you, fuck everyone,
Banal,
Maybe I should make the metaphor of pandoras box,
Just to fit with this cliche?
10:
I cant sleep,
I cant really be awake either,
My world revolves around ezoterisms,
The ezoterism of my own being,
My world revolves around these
People I use
These procents I consume
This music I abuse
This poetry I destroy myself with
When I used to still care about my life
I used to cut, bleed crimson on the bright white floor tiles
Now that Ive given up I cut my mentality with this poetry
Mental self harm
11:
There are moments when words just dont flow,
Emotionless nights when apathy and darkness consumes it all,
There are moments when the words overflow,
A hateful river, flooding the plains of your world,
Between nihilism and destruction,
My plain resides,
A 4th dimention,
Full of self lies.
12:
Will anyone cry, when I am layed to rest,
A thought every person has, an easy thought,
An easy thought to make me cry however,
When I realise that while anyone will cry,
Everyone will cry,
They will all cry for the wrong me,
When my parents weep for their daughter,
My previous lovers weep from happiness that their object of hate is gone,
My friends will weep for their sister,
And I will weep for the potential that never became
Never became anything at all
13:
Drops slowly dropping of the celing,
My eyes follow them, lazy, my retinas peeling
Away the fractal nature of this moment, this feeling,
An emotion that is always too far, but somehow to close to my own begining,
A trace of love, a trace of erotism,
A trace of my long lost heart
A trace of my oversized egoism
The path of the drop, as if tracing the path of hate that I have so often traveled,
Slowly progressing, gravity pulling it towards its epitath,
A sad end, but fitting,
For the last drop of blood that sustained my living.

Any feedback, negative or positive is welcome! <3

I read the poems lightly and didn't really think about them much, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the impressions, and feeling of the words. That's some impressive creative powers you got there.

Love it! <3
Powerful stuff.
 

They dont have names, they are called by order of my writing them:
1:
In a ghastly shade,
Where residue of emotions lies,
A sharp emptiness, with the bite of a blade,
A sharp silence, within which every human cries,
Silent cries, penetrate with the sound of strife,
A 4th dimention created for those,
Who cannot stabilise,
Their desire for life.
2:
Soaring seas, breaking apart,
A vision distorted, beyond our comprehension,
Surreal thoughts created by my mind,
A literary distortion,
What Ive read, what Ive seen, what Ive experienced,
Mingle and entangle,
To create the chaos of my reality,
I do not remember anymore, what is real,
What is a memory,
And what I imagined, what I wished.
I live a half life,
Or maybe,
A double life with half the meaning.
3:
A noble obligation, to live, create, perform,
To out do the last generation, to up their ideals and their form,
I suffocate in my own aristocracy, in my own pretentions,
Set my goals too high, but fail to chase those aspirations,
A shade of my former self,
A self I barely remember,
A self fragile and beautiful, a porcelain doll,
Set on the shop self,
To be bought, to be sold,
A toy.
4:
A grotesque outline of a world I abandoned,
A burnt cinder, the love I found abandoned,
A realm of imagination, again Im abandoned,
A solitary tear, that is all that I can handle,
For truly, cast away,
Humanity is what I abandoned.
5:
All my previous ladies have few photos with me,
Although in their mind they propably have many photos of me,
Their mental photos full of hate of me,
Remember a girl who always thought of "me",
They forget the moments that I abandoned my beliefs, my stigma for them, the times I lost my "me",
And I dont know about you but thats sad for me.
They hate me,
Detest me,
Even though they were everything to me.
Is this how I feel when everything fails me?
6:
A colourful light,
Sparks that play roles of shadows,
Casting through an open window,
A colourful light,
Early, pinkish dawn,
Sharply reflecting off of the skin,
Of Gods incarnation laying amongst bed sheets.
The light seems almost fractal, almost perfect,
In the imperfection on her skin,
I see Gods work.
The light freckles that adorn her cheeks,
Cheeks of pure white, bright as lilies,
The same lilies that will decorate her funeral casket,
As the light seeks deeper, as if looking for her beauty,
Reflecting off her bare chest,
Stomach,
Thighs,
Neck,
Synergy of a form complete,
They brand me a heretic, because looking at this cannon,
I cannot help but conclude,
That if God indeed exists.
God must have the shape of a female.
7:
Quam amoena,
The way the sound falls on my lips,
Like rosepetals that flood my world,
Each a delicacy that lasts a lifetime,
A single moment, compromised of an eternity of lifetimes,
Each different, yet the same,
Quam amoena,
The petals like silk,
Touch my lips, allow me to kiss,
In my dying moments,
As I lay in an ocean of blood,
Quam amoena that today, I finally get to die.
8:
Imagine a desert,
An eternal world of emptiness.
The material is immaterial,
Snow, sand, concrete, space,
All that is consequential is the emptiness.
Now imagine a solitary figure amongst the dunes,
Wrapped in cloth, holding a sword.
A plain sword, damascus steel from an age long gone.
Crismon is the primary colour of her clothing,
A strange contrast to the gray surroundings.
As you try to grasp her appearance, you find it impossible,
As her figure flows, ever so softly, like a mountain stream.
The moment you see an image, it is long gone into nothingness.
And you realise she has no form,
An outcast, forgotten.
As you leave the scene, filled with sadness,
Take one look back at her emptiness, at her darkness,
Open your eyes, breathe deeply, feel alive
And know you survived,
Seeing the inside of my mind.
9:
Burn you distance,
Burn your self righteousness
The apocalypse has come, the world has ended,
God has abandoned us,
God has stuck a middle finger at his creation,
Picked up a bottle of vodka, poured it into his liver,
And went to make a new better world.
Sad, or maybe its not,
Because how can truth be sad if truth is the only reality and reality is simply beautiful?
Fuck your truism,
Fuck what I think,
Fuck me, fuck you, fuck everyone,
Banal,
Maybe I should make the metaphor of pandoras box,
Just to fit with this cliche?
10:
I cant sleep,
I cant really be awake either,
My world revolves around ezoterisms,
The ezoterism of my own being,
My world revolves around these
People I use
These procents I consume
This music I abuse
This poetry I destroy myself with
When I used to still care about my life
I used to cut, bleed crimson on the bright white floor tiles
Now that Ive given up I cut my mentality with this poetry
Mental self harm
11:
There are moments when words just dont flow,
Emotionless nights when apathy and darkness consumes it all,
There are moments when the words overflow,
A hateful river, flooding the plains of your world,
Between nihilism and destruction,
My plain resides,
A 4th dimention,
Full of self lies.
12:
Will anyone cry, when I am layed to rest,
A thought every person has, an easy thought,
An easy thought to make me cry however,
When I realise that while anyone will cry,
Everyone will cry,
They will all cry for the wrong me,
When my parents weep for their daughter,
My previous lovers weep from happiness that their object of hate is gone,
My friends will weep for their sister,
And I will weep for the potential that never became
Never became anything at all
13:
Drops slowly dropping of the celing,
My eyes follow them, lazy, my retinas peeling
Away the fractal nature of this moment, this feeling,
An emotion that is always too far, but somehow to close to my own begining,
A trace of love, a trace of erotism,
A trace of my long lost heart
A trace of my oversized egoism
The path of the drop, as if tracing the path of hate that I have so often traveled,
Slowly progressing, gravity pulling it towards its epitath,
A sad end, but fitting,
For the last drop of blood that sustained my living.

Any feedback, negative or positive is welcome! <3

You already know i liked them although i hadn't seen all of them..stil i thnk they're pretty good even if some of them are quite sad (as i've also told you).
Great work Imouto
 
 

They dont have names, they are called by order of my writing them:
1:
In a ghastly shade,
Where residue of emotions lies,
A sharp emptiness, with the bite of a blade,
A sharp silence, within which every human cries,
Silent cries, penetrate with the sound of strife,
A 4th dimention created for those,
Who cannot stabilise,
Their desire for life.
2:
Soaring seas, breaking apart,
A vision distorted, beyond our comprehension,
Surreal thoughts created by my mind,
A literary distortion,
What Ive read, what Ive seen, what Ive experienced,
Mingle and entangle,
To create the chaos of my reality,
I do not remember anymore, what is real,
What is a memory,
And what I imagined, what I wished.
I live a half life,
Or maybe,
A double life with half the meaning.
3:
A noble obligation, to live, create, perform,
To out do the last generation, to up their ideals and their form,
I suffocate in my own aristocracy, in my own pretentions,
Set my goals too high, but fail to chase those aspirations,
A shade of my former self,
A self I barely remember,
A self fragile and beautiful, a porcelain doll,
Set on the shop self,
To be bought, to be sold,
A toy.
4:
A grotesque outline of a world I abandoned,
A burnt cinder, the love I found abandoned,
A realm of imagination, again Im abandoned,
A solitary tear, that is all that I can handle,
For truly, cast away,
Humanity is what I abandoned.
5:
All my previous ladies have few photos with me,
Although in their mind they propably have many photos of me,
Their mental photos full of hate of me,
Remember a girl who always thought of "me",
They forget the moments that I abandoned my beliefs, my stigma for them, the times I lost my "me",
And I dont know about you but thats sad for me.
They hate me,
Detest me,
Even though they were everything to me.
Is this how I feel when everything fails me?
6:
A colourful light,
Sparks that play roles of shadows,
Casting through an open window,
A colourful light,
Early, pinkish dawn,
Sharply reflecting off of the skin,
Of Gods incarnation laying amongst bed sheets.
The light seems almost fractal, almost perfect,
In the imperfection on her skin,
I see Gods work.
The light freckles that adorn her cheeks,
Cheeks of pure white, bright as lilies,
The same lilies that will decorate her funeral casket,
As the light seeks deeper, as if looking for her beauty,
Reflecting off her bare chest,
Stomach,
Thighs,
Neck,
Synergy of a form complete,
They brand me a heretic, because looking at this cannon,
I cannot help but conclude,
That if God indeed exists.
God must have the shape of a female.
7:
Quam amoena,
The way the sound falls on my lips,
Like rosepetals that flood my world,
Each a delicacy that lasts a lifetime,
A single moment, compromised of an eternity of lifetimes,
Each different, yet the same,
Quam amoena,
The petals like silk,
Touch my lips, allow me to kiss,
In my dying moments,
As I lay in an ocean of blood,
Quam amoena that today, I finally get to die.
8:
Imagine a desert,
An eternal world of emptiness.
The material is immaterial,
Snow, sand, concrete, space,
All that is consequential is the emptiness.
Now imagine a solitary figure amongst the dunes,
Wrapped in cloth, holding a sword.
A plain sword, damascus steel from an age long gone.
Crismon is the primary colour of her clothing,
A strange contrast to the gray surroundings.
As you try to grasp her appearance, you find it impossible,
As her figure flows, ever so softly, like a mountain stream.
The moment you see an image, it is long gone into nothingness.
And you realise she has no form,
An outcast, forgotten.
As you leave the scene, filled with sadness,
Take one look back at her emptiness, at her darkness,
Open your eyes, breathe deeply, feel alive
And know you survived,
Seeing the inside of my mind.
9:
Burn you distance,
Burn your self righteousness
The apocalypse has come, the world has ended,
God has abandoned us,
God has stuck a middle finger at his creation,
Picked up a bottle of vodka, poured it into his liver,
And went to make a new better world.
Sad, or maybe its not,
Because how can truth be sad if truth is the only reality and reality is simply beautiful?
Fuck your truism,
Fuck what I think,
Fuck me, fuck you, fuck everyone,
Banal,
Maybe I should make the metaphor of pandoras box,
Just to fit with this cliche?
10:
I cant sleep,
I cant really be awake either,
My world revolves around ezoterisms,
The ezoterism of my own being,
My world revolves around these
People I use
These procents I consume
This music I abuse
This poetry I destroy myself with
When I used to still care about my life
I used to cut, bleed crimson on the bright white floor tiles
Now that Ive given up I cut my mentality with this poetry
Mental self harm
11:
There are moments when words just dont flow,
Emotionless nights when apathy and darkness consumes it all,
There are moments when the words overflow,
A hateful river, flooding the plains of your world,
Between nihilism and destruction,
My plain resides,
A 4th dimention,
Full of self lies.
12:
Will anyone cry, when I am layed to rest,
A thought every person has, an easy thought,
An easy thought to make me cry however,
When I realise that while anyone will cry,
Everyone will cry,
They will all cry for the wrong me,
When my parents weep for their daughter,
My previous lovers weep from happiness that their object of hate is gone,
My friends will weep for their sister,
And I will weep for the potential that never became
Never became anything at all
13:
Drops slowly dropping of the celing,
My eyes follow them, lazy, my retinas peeling
Away the fractal nature of this moment, this feeling,
An emotion that is always too far, but somehow to close to my own begining,
A trace of love, a trace of erotism,
A trace of my long lost heart
A trace of my oversized egoism
The path of the drop, as if tracing the path of hate that I have so often traveled,
Slowly progressing, gravity pulling it towards its epitath,
A sad end, but fitting,
For the last drop of blood that sustained my living.

Any feedback, negative or positive is welcome! <3

Wolfes Pepper Chicken for the extremely lazy:
 
-Diced Chicken Breasts
-Black or White Pepper
-Soy Sauce
-Mushrooms
-Green/Red/Yellow Peppers
Chop everything up.
Throw the meat in first
Sear it for a bit
Pour in a cup of water
Spray that pepper and soy sauce like your life depends on it
Boil the chicken for a few minutes
Throw the mushrooms and peppers
Boil for about 15 minutes
Marvel at how something so simple can taste so good.

Hi Yoake, and welcome to the community!
Do you have a waif- Wait, you know what. Nevermind that. You look like a lolicon and play otome games. So, no waifu stealing activity here, huh? 
And to recommend you some VNs which has an active protagonist........ughh, can't think of one.  There's simply too much VNs in the market out there.
As for the otome VNs, there's a lot at the Play Store/App Store (as which Valmore has mentioned) and for the list, here;
https://vndb.org/v/all?q=&fil=tag_inc-542.tagspoil-0.lang-en&rfil=

Welcome to the forums! Hope you enjoy your stay!
SajkoxDerg confirmed!
Have a moe:

I feel so loved <3
 
Even more so when you fight over me. KEEP DOING IT

I feel so loved <3
 
Even more so when you fight over me. KEEP DOING IT

EXCUSE MEH, it was decided that @SajkoWolfe was my Imoto...you can't just come and steal my Imoto....it'll be WAR
 
I swear i'll have my revenge....oh sweet Sweet Sweet REVENGE
Had you made your title that, you'd be floating facing down in a nearby gutter full of swamp water and with a lot of trap & yaoi Vn's scattered around you for your enjoyment

Hello hello ladies and gentlemen of fuwanovel! Today I reached 500 posts! Yaay! Now I'm a pro right? ... Right? No...? Ok...
 
I came here in september of 2015, I think it was about Yosuga no Sora or something like that. I don't really remember. But after making an account and posting a couple of times, I got hooked. I fell in love with the community pretty much instantly and started spamming posting frequently. Since then i've read tons of VNs, many of which you awesome, awesome people recommended me, and I've been a part of many fun discussions and hilarious roleplaying scenarios in the chat and in threads.
I thought I'd take this opportunity to thank some of the people who have helped make these past 4 months totally freaking awesome.
Before I start naming people, know this: I will probably forget a few names because I am an idiot. Please don't get offended if I forget your name. I love you all. <3
 
First off all, @Nosebleed Thank you so much for answering all my stupid, noob questions when I first joined. I was kind of awkward and didn't know much and I ended up asking you a bunch of stuff. But you replied to all of them quickly and politely and for that I salute you. You are awesome.
@Kaguya Your top 50 VN list was one of the places I went for recommendations when I joined and it's provided me with a lot of good reads. Also, thanks for inviting me into the goofy and hilarious chat group. It's given me a lot of laughs.
@Flutterz I still keep the moe picture you gave me when I joined in a special folder on my computer <3 You've taken my soul a couple of times when I summoned you but hey, no hard feelings.
@Eclipsed Haven't had too many talks with you directly but reading your posts always makes me smile, (thats a compliment by the way. Not bullying you. Dont ban me )
@Tay I haven't had any direct encounters with you but thank you so much for keeping the site ... Well ... Alive.
and to all the other moderators / staff members, thank you guys for keeping this site free of spammers like myself. Wait ...
 
@Kawasumi You are the main reason I ended up playing Euphoria and started liking Clock up games. Thank you for scaring me for life
Seriously though, you are awesome. You were pretty much one of the first people I started stalking on this forum after I joined, (just realized I never actually followed you. it was my intention to do so though!   Forgive me! )
@CeruleanGamer I love you. Erhem, I mean... Marry me! ... ... This is going well. I've used the word awesome 100x so far in this thread, so I'm giving you the title of: epic! I'm kind of bad with words but thank you for making threads hilarious and educational. You taught me how to read! ... Kind of!
(Do people really want to be mentioned by me? I feel like I suck at this.)
@DarkZedge You've made me laugh countless times and you were my first kohai on the forum! (Yes you are my kohai. Deal with it.) Also a fellow tsundere lover, which makes you one of the cool kids!
@Forgetful Frank You joined fairly recently and yet it feels like you have been here for months. You are a really cool guy and your motivation and determination is really impressive. Also, thank you x1000 for helping me out with my book.
@VirginSmasher We joined almost at the same time and I feel like we are quite similar in a lot of ways. Lets start a "joined in the winter of 2015 club" together!!!
@Kiriririri You taught me the beauty of moe and you also helped bring to the forum. As a reward, I give you +11 awesome points. Also, thanks for linking me adorable videos in the chat all the time.
@Zebhra You were my first tomodachi!!! BEAR HUUUUUUG!
@Jade Oh Jade. Jade, Jade, Jade, Jade. We joke around in the chat a lot and it's all fun and games. You are a great guy and thank you for blackmailing me. Wait ... I mean ... No, you know what! TRAP LOVER! BAKA! HENTAI!
(Really though Jade, thanks for making my stay at fuwa 10x more fun )
@XReaper I haven't really talked too much with you but you are one of the awesome senpais on fuwa, and I wanted to thank you for service. *salutes you*
@12kami You keep threathening me with ban hammers but they wont ever reach me! MUHAHAHA! You are the fuwanovel's chat guard dog and we all thank you for it.
@Totodile I see you around the chat all the time, you are funny. Also you roleplayed pokemon with me once and for that I will love you forever!
@Clephas You have taught me a lot of stuff and for that I thank you. You know more about VNs than God himself. You also ate some of my organs but hey, I'll forgive you for it. Thanks for making the chat group absolutely hilariious with insane roleplaying
@Decay You are also one of those people on this forum that I really look up to. You make a lot of great points, your reviews are helpful and well formulated and, well your profile pic is awesome.
@OriginalRen Haven't really talked much to you but I watch your videos from time to time and they are awesome. So thanks for that
@SajkoWolfe I love you <3 You were the first to call me onii-sama and will now forever be known as my imouto. No is not an acceptable answer
@Ryechu You are an awesome guy. ( Wow there, I said awesome again. Someone, go write down the awesome count in this thread ) Anyways, yeah, I haven't talked to you much but the little we have talked has been a blast and I wanted to thank you for your work at fuwareviews.
@Valmore Onii-chan, how do I make a thank you thread? Also, daisuki!!!
@KaoDoroSesu You made me the king of slime and put me in your game. Thank you for that Well, seriously though, always cool to chat with you. High five!
@Velociraptor Thank you for teaching me about birds and science!
@Nashetania Uhh.. BANZAAAAI! EDIT: BEEEEEAAAR HUUUUUUUUUUUG!
@Shikomizue You changed your profile pic! I think it has been unchanged ever since I first joined. I don't like change. It's scary
Finally, Hanana banana tomato! I can't manage to link your name because of the Japanese characters. The page wont recognize the Kana when I try to tag you. But! See you in the chat from time to time, always fun to talk to you there and in threads where you pop in. We've had our fun! And you havent stolen any of my waifus yet, so thats good. (If you do, I'm going to have to kill you ) Also, you nickname is brilliant, (and no, its not going anywhere )
 
 
Once again, thanks to everyone here on the forum for making it such a wonderful community. If I didn't mention you, feel free to slap me. I have a nagging feeling I've left out people. I'm really sorry, my ability to remember names is horrible.

I can switch to be your minion i mean your... whatever you call it XD

Love that one! <3
Finished it about 2 months ago. My step mum gifted me 6 Murakami books for my birthday it was great.

@luciodragao @SajkoWolfe


That being said, welcome (even though you met me at chat first)! I hope you enjoy your stay~

Yes! Another Murakami fan! highfive!

dont pull my tail or else.. or else...
*hugs tsundere onee-chan*
 
 

love you too, welcome tsundere onee-chan

Yeah manga and novels are different. I love wuxia and also korean novels. Their animations are just sad when compared to japanese ones though. 

Im growing my hair into twintails.
Wait about... 6 months. Then Ill be your perfect tsundere onii-sama.