Irvin

Joined February 2024

48 stories

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Exceptionally artistic when it comes to poetry, my undying passion for it for keeps me writing like always.

Stories (48)

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Gothic Love
The synchronization of our tongues Ripens my soul out cold like a forbidden fruit The garden of eden deepens the paradise of a disturbed land of rejected creatures like myself.
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
Injustice War
War collusion of weaponed souls Groveling minds reflecting Foreshadowed images under the blazing dawn Harvesting the labor of lives taken through stereotypical manipulation. The fire of death is birthed between different objectives.
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
"My"
My heart is black My soul is a misinterpreted canvas, A misplaced Art piece. My mind paints through the tremendous ocean that drowned every ink of sketch that poetry has embodied to save the posture of my soul in me. Every thought floats out from its internal creators sketchbook Every vulnerable part of myself has me questioning the passion that has led me this far.
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
This man-like figure
This man-like figure that stands before Me is a passage extension of the person I could be He foreshadows the future expectation of what I'm endowed to be Although He bleeds revenge and wasted with no remorse, he utters the pale likeless of his mind to the beloved as well as to the hearts of the unknown With battlescars enchanted on his skin He Carries a frame of justice for his younger self The only of way of living is survival A man-made war machine is what he has become A monster of his own self he has indulged in He reflects the camouflaged introspection triggered amongst people around him What he fears most is losing himself in the process of trying to save himself What others fear from him is retaining his older self in a form of a shadow? He is a shadow of my older self A version of myself driven to the edge of insanity.
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
The embodiment of two
An Impure chemistry of coexisting personal vendettas Like two polar opposites stitched onto one another to create an amblem of a disastrous unity.
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
Why is it still dawn? . Top Story - July 2024.
It's an understatement to call it the naked truth Whereas it nakens inferior parts of us that have been scorched by the naked truth. I'm entitled to the gratitude of these thoughts They help keep me entertained While pain is the most forced about Entertainment of ages that our hearts keep being glued too. Why do I try to run away from something that knows my end to finish? I'm troubled by the past that keeps on predicting my future. Having a good heart only led me astray But - why is it still Dawn? If I've got guardian angels watching over me Bottled up emotions turned to ashes Meant to be thrown away into the ocean. Trying to revive the energy of my living being I'm stuck between knowing our failures and rewriting better explanations for old mistakes. The explicit bandage exposing our wounds has us feeling dead while we're told to - Breath. If hell really exists then going to heaven would be my greatest sin I'm not fond around people that try to justify the good things one can achieve if they follow the - Word. The word is what you make of it And I've not only lost hope but the real definition seems to have lost it's meaning. But here is another word with a crucified meaning - Why Is It Still Dawn?
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
A misfit design
Consider me your least favorite clothing item worn out in your wardrobe The only time you put me on is when you create a facade of lost hope Drenched with darkness from your mind for how you think of me My eyes a window to my soul The silence liberates the atmosphere for we cannot afford to wake up demons we've put to bed The clock on the wall rotates Anti-clockwise, because we live reality in the past Unforseen sequential patterns of thought occur, reshaping the perceptions we have of ourselves within We start to view ourselves from a third person perspective, for how we tell a narrative without the inclusion of our faults Persueing the masses to our favored judgement How was the end become a plot with us starring as guest characters Every memory of us like a fatal accident, certainly has led to the death of my heart Wandering the after-life of a love vendetta More souls seem lost in a villainous conscious Being led by pain, their context of grieve highlights a file line of dying sane Living the present moment only to have an alterior motive to being absent in our past-scripted dialogues So identical in bondage of our minds it feels like this pain was self-inflicted I am my own mirror victim An author of a story with words I trail down to the depths our their convention The very same words I've said to you containing empty spaces of completion
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
Spiritual Welfare
In the garden of omnipresent ether A cultivating, idealistic, self-proclaimed folkore, passed onto generational traveller's remains only a myth to those with an abundant discretion of ignorance. What you sow to see with your eyes, is reaped by the induced Mind The mind of a sole creature with an indefinite sight to which the degree of his amplified existence could reach. Far along the draining distance, the value of each step is correlated to the amount of wisdom one is able to consume.
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
Extinction
Set in motion an extension of a baphometic prophecy Condemned by fate from the field of bloodshed That only prisons scotched hearts of animosity. Like a war veteran, I'm on a persuit of cold vengeance with a compass mind that leaves trails of unforgiveness Away with the soul as it struggles to empty itself from the craft of existince, Beneath the vile nature of a corrupted soldier That has sold his pain to a configured tyrant
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
A Lethal Bondage
Inevitable desire, the quench for lust burns like an untamed temptation, Soothening an iron mind, whilst melting onto a wandering soul, leaving a scarred attachment. This nakedly clothed entitlement to ecstacy, further reaps the need for a longing Bondage. Upon its unsettled mind and hungered body, the search for a spiritually medicative cure is driven by the utmost loneliness that continues to bloom under the vague of its survival.
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
Closed Confession
Beneath a vile oppression Through my congenital self-inflicted Wounded progression Lies a burial introspection like An obutual documented earthborn Resident. Transitioning from a materialistic Parable ot a dehumanized humanlike Animal. A mind of a computer recording recordings of its own dysfunctional dilemma From the absence on earth To an agonizing environment, stranded with stagnant backward moving abysmal circumstances. The soul utters diversity of pain while the heart categorizes its measurement against it. The contraction of our sentimental rivalry Slowly starts to hallucinate death as a friendly confinement. I am my own source of pain infused by underlying factors contributing to the adinfinite thoughts that refuse their retirement. It's a series of traffic congested tragedies, overpopulating the limitless capital expansion of graveyards.
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets
Bad Intentions
Profane prophecy I utter with an extended soliloquy Demonically a shredded flesh of fire burning entirely Thought provoking memories moving silently I'm a mortal corpse with the description of death defining me Could stand next to the creator while they design me fit Crowded with emptiness, a devour of wasted dreams Reflections starring at me I see this costume soul is not what it seems I harvest on these Lethal ideas Once the day loses stamina the darkness appears.
By Irvin about a year ago in Poets

Irvin

Bio

Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(48)

Filter by community

Gothic Love

Injustice War

"My"

This man-like figure

The embodiment of two

Why is it still dawn? . Top Story - July 2024.

A misfit design

Spiritual Welfare

Extinction

A Lethal Bondage

Closed Confession

Bad Intentions

Stories (48)