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Poems and stuff that I write. :U

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:U Poems are fun.


I'm going to post some of my better ones here, because why not.


{Support me as a writer! Wattpad ~ Hiperyon}


user posted image



A star so big, too large to miss

Living in peace, peaceful bliss


But suddenly, Hydrogen is used

and heavier elements must be fused


The death has started, it cannot be stopped

The existence of the star is suddenly mopped


The star makes iron, its desperate act

to keep away from that inevitable fact


But iron simply seals the deal

it absorbs energy better than steel


No longer able to heat its core

Now alone, the gravity wins the war


Inside-out the star is turned

Its death by iron hardly earned


It's cry of death, it does ring out

louder than a blue whale's shout


So great is it, that graceful star

Such a mark it leaves, the gaseous scar


Looked upon with curiosity

By humans, a race simply void of generosity


If our friend can perish so

A painful death, as we do know


That one star's death, a horrible implode

Gave in to the night, a black so sorrowed...


Could such an end not come about here,

instead of iron, with fear?


user posted image



The stream

in the park

near my house;

Where I am now...


The water was still flowing.

It made me happy.

It's keeping me company as I write this;

Silently gurgling

over the smoothed, gray rocks,

undeterred by the mud,

the sticks,


leaves in its path.


And, I tried to clean out as much of the garbage as I could

I'll get more of it



But now, I'm here for writing

and thinking,

not cleaning.


There's a small hill right next to the stream

on either side,

one side, I've never explored.


The other side,

to the left of where I came from,

across from me now,

in front of me,


I can see just dirt,

though it's covered in fallen, brown trees

and their broken branches,

and flat piles of dead leaves,

the same color.


Then, I can see the poison ivy,

crawling down the hill,

sheltering under it bed of leaves,

waiting for some fool to try

and touch

its venomous, green petals.


There's moss, too,

a sickly yellow-green color,

eating at the fallen trees

and the wet stones,

along the silently gurgling stream.



I remember

the first time I came here;

this side of the park.


I found the trails first,

amazing and huge;

Full of life,











once, I even saw an eight-point buck.

Such a wondrous place.


I came nearly every day,

watching the forest,

watching the stream,

watching the animals,

the trees,

the life.


But then...


After months turned to



Snow set in.

Huge blankets of white-gray snow,

not stopping,

packing in,

heavy snow,

for days.


It was too much for the forest.


As I watched,

Trees fell,

Plants died,

The deer I had come to love left,

The birds followed soon after.


All that's left now,

Even now,

a year later,

is only

the strongest of trees,



this stream

and a few birds,

searching for their homes.


I tried to tell them,

it was gone,

flattened under the snow and wind,

but they






This place, now,

once the greenest place I had seen,

the most happy place to be,


Has died

at the hands

of the white, cold demon.


Why, then, do I still come?

All I see are but stumps of what I remember.


Why, then, do I bother picking up the garbage?

People will just leave more anyway, this place has become their garbage can.


This forest has nearly died.


I come, because...











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