Island Symphony Across the ocean, miles and miles, An island past the furthest isles, Rose up from waves of greenish blue, Upon which many a coconut tree grew, Swaying and crashing to the melody, Of each rhythmic wave of the peaceful sea, And soon upon each golden dune, A crab had joined into the tune, And that is the tale of the symphony, Of each crab, the ocean and each coconut tree.
Suicide Part II One brief stab from a rusty knife, One quick plunge to end my #life, One small tear into my heart, Ripping flesh and skin apart, Letting blood out of its cage, Flowing in a crimson rage, Across my chest, onto the floor, Across the tiles, then out the door, Running slowly down the stairs, My heartbeat echoes in my ears, Beating slowly slowing down, Every noise it seems to drown
Suicide Blood blossoms from my chest like a vicious bloom, Like darkness filling an empty room, Like stormy clouds in the brightest day, Like a storm crashing into a bay, Red, red stains the floor, Flowing right under the door, Down the staircase, Down the landing, Where my mother is standing
Emerald Island A tropical, island-scented breeze, Caressed upon the mellow seas, Alive with blue-green emerald waves, Which crashed upon the bejewelled caves, Upon the island thrived, exotic and lush, A jungle alive with verdant brush, And many a resplendent creature, Which was a beautiful feature, But that was a hundred years ago, And this is it today, as legends go; The water, which once was crystalline, Now is a murky, awful green, The blooms of summer meet their death, The creatures take their final breaths, The luxuriant forest canopy, Is nothing but a fantasy, The trees that were once a lot, Are scarce and most have started rot, The air is thick, and reeks of dread, The Enerald Island now is dead.