YamiComposer

You extended your hand towards me, When I was all alone. You took me under your wing of pitch-black, When my feathers were clipped, And I could not fly. Your sweet smile, Your words coated in sugar, All used to win me over? How can I tell what is truth, And what are lies, That spout from your mouth? I found out only too late, About your true self, What really lurks underneath your high cheekbones, Your eerie smile of what is bitter sweetness, The lies of which are now spice, Your eyes of darkened blood, Which peer into my soul, And making my blood run cold, Your hair of raven-black, With your wings like that of a crow, Swooping, Searching, Fo

A musician that works in secret. A composer that creates in the dark. Soft sympanies that move through the shadows, Haunting melodies  that thrive in the night. Sweet music... As beautiful and lovely as a Rose... And yet a Rose has thorns. To the public: Uncontrollable. To the phantom writer: A muse. Locked up, like a bird in a cage, awaiting and aching to spread its wings... Hidden away, indeed like a secret, never to be revealed... Painted Black, as if, to melt among everyday life, as if, to be of camouflage, to say... "I am like everyone else. I show no plumage. I am like the Tsubaki flower, no fragrance... None at all." The compose

When I was king of the world, all my enemies feared me, along with my people, no one dared look down upon me. When I was a leader, I led troops that won every battle, never lost, ever. When I was a dictator, I held the whole world in the palm of my hand. When I had everything a mortal could possibly desire, fame, fortune... Power. I was betrayed... By a act of barberism that could only be known as genocide. And thus... My fame, my fortune, my empire... My world. Gone. So what shall occur to the cruel and demolished shell of a ruler? Death. By a sword. Saint Peter...doesn't call...as I feel pain...endless pain...surround me in a cage of black

It has been several years since They took over the world, and became our king, our ruler, our 'god'. It was a warm summer day, the 21st of June, 2013, when it happened. Nobody knew how They had come to posses such power, where They had come from, or who They even were, but, They came with an army, and challenged the world, to a final match, the last battle, the ending duel that would determine our future, and change the course of human history. Naturally, They won, but, at the same time, They did not win. It wasn't long before we came to understand Their price for unimaginable power, which came from a deal They had made with the devil. Their

Why cannot you accept me, for me? What can I say, What can I do, To make you accept everything about me And not bring you misery? I try as hard as I can, I crave your heart, Yet it does not bleed in my hand, I can read your soul, Yet it refuses to acknowledge my existence. Everything that is me, All that is me, Why do you refuse to accept me? What can I say, What can I do, To make you love me, And make you proud? I try my hardest to be perfection, Yet you continue to cry. I try to say I'm sorry, But how can one apologize, For being themselves?

My everlasting Angel, How I long for your bittersweet embrace, For the feel of your velvet feathers, Which caressed my skin, And sent shivers down my spine. My guardian, How much I miss you, With every heartbeat of mine, My rhythm of life, I feel the chill of a thousand snowflakes, As I realize, With a numb soul, That I may never see you again. Protector, I know I am a fool, To have not forgotten you, But the touch of your silky hair, Has not left my memory, Your sweetened smile, Has not been abandoned, Your beloved whispers, Have not gone silent, For they still echo, Every last word, Every stutter and regret, Every shed tear... ...I know you

I'm so tired of being your puppet, The only card you have left to play in life. I have no idea what you expect me to be, Anymore. Heck, Even I have no idea, Who I really am, If I really have a true smile, If I want to be like me. I've been force-fed your version of the truth, Since the day of my birth. I've been living a lie, My name is a lie, My background is a lie. So many lies. You expect so much out of me, Given me so much pressure, But underneath this meaningless fake smile, Rests a soul that's entirely numb, And a heart that has long-since stopped beating, For I am barely alive.