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Grrr..

I can see it now
The glow of the sun,
nearly touching the sky.

It's almost like hope,
almost like warmth,
almost like
something
more.

More than anything, before
I saw the sky break
And light spilled,
blinding, cutting across the land.
In the next moment,
There is always
something
more.

Yeah, I fixed it, Jeol. :b
Thanks!

I really enjoyed the beginning, but the last stanza seems somewhat disjointed from the theme of the first two. In the first two it seems to be focused on the surreal, then it suddenly switches to the physical aspect.

Yeah, I guess. Maybe it's just the sharpness of the change? I dunno. :b

Life is an endless path,
Barren and frightful.
Full of eyes hiding
in a forest of memories.

Barren and frightful,
This place is not what it was before.
It used to be beautiful,
But now it is a skeleton.

Full of eyes hiding,
Watching and waiting
For the right moment to strike,
They are racing alongside the path.

In a forest of memories
I walk alone, shutting my eyes tight,
Blocking out the sounds the leaves make
and the whispers from those thorns of spite.

Nicely done, excellent use of imagery, although using the term barren and forest to describe the same thing seems to be contradictory.

Other than that I really enjoyed this, it seems like a great description of how an extremely paranoid person would perceive life.

It is contradictory.. I suppose that when I was writing it, I imagined two different places, but now I dunno.

I'm extremely paranoid? O: I, uh... I dunno what to say to that. So, a poem.

~

Hatred is a plague,
Infecting everyone
save those with tolerance.
Hatred is a storm,
Striking everyone in its path.
Hatred is a shadow,
Stopped by nothing and
Taken into the hearts of the willing.

A shadow that seeps into every corner,
Steals into every peaceful mind.
It creates fire in its path,
reckless and unstoppable.
It consumes everything.
And nobody will rise
from the ashes.

Welcome to the real world,
A voice speaks out of the darkness.
Welcome to Life.

A wondrous view,
like nothing I've seen before.
Beautiful things, trapped in a mirror.
It isn't real. I can't reach it.

This cannot be the real world.
Those things I used to know seem
Gray and blank, dull. But they were real.
I knew life before.
What is it now?

It's not that
I cared about the cartoons
more than you,
I just didn't want to see you
like that.
I was scared.

The rocks no longer roll;
Time has been taken
from all of us.
Silence is
only
here.
Movement
surrounds us,
but it is not
reachable. We are
Not allowed to feel it.

I really don't know if this will work.. if it doesn't.. D:

I see what you did thar! The end areas feel connected and work with one another, but the middle areas feel too constricted. Perhaps you can create another poem that is scaled 2-3x longer in length so the middle is made up with more support to go with "what you did"?