• Welcome to The Cave of Dragonflies forums, where the smallest bugs live alongside the strongest dragons.

    Guests are not able to post messages or even read certain areas of the forums. Now, that's boring, don't you think? Registration, on the other hand, is simple, completely free of charge, and does not require you to give out any personal information at all. As soon as you register, you can take part in some of the happy fun things at the forums such as posting messages, voting in polls, sending private messages to people and being told that this is where we drink tea and eat cod.

    Of course I'm not forcing you to do anything if you don't want to, but seriously, what have you got to lose? Five seconds of your life?

DarkFire's Verses


Moon don't tell me lies, don't let me roam forever
Yeah, I thought I'd toss my poetry in the mix. Starting with something from my heart, right now. I'll post stuff I've already written in a bit, then new stuff after... but now...

I sift my thoughts,
and ponder myself.
I find things I know,
and things I yet understand.
But I do understand,
my heart tells my mind,
and I feel what I know
is true and right.

Who am I?
A question,
an answer,
a search,
a finding.
Something I am still pondering,
but have learned much about.
In time,
in time,
I will be me.


Moon don't tell me lies, don't let me roam forever
Blank Page

Behind me,
Lies and anger,
Truth and sadness,
A world that was
And will be.

Before me,
What is known,
What is unknown,
What will or will not be,
Is waiting.

But now,
What I do,
What I say,
What I know,
What I believe,
Will fill my blank page,
And set my future.


I'd like to add, that if you want something written about something, I'll be willing to take requests as well. This isn't just for me, I don't want to just spill feelings and emotions and spirit here, you know.


Moon don't tell me lies, don't let me roam forever
Hollow Lie

The remnants of what was
Live in me.
But what am I?
Am I alive, can I be?

A husk,
That averts eyes
From the emptyness
That makes me.

My old self flies away,
And I stay,
Unsure of the way
I even exist.

Is this what it comes to?
No one can look at me,
No one can touch me,
And no one can hurt me.

Am I real?
Or am I just a byproduct,
left behind by something more.
Am I not but a hollow lie?

Felt like doing a Shedinja poem.


Live for the moment
It stays for just that short time
And never returns.


Glass Man

A figure,
Standing tall,
Shining with the light of the day,
Confident and strong,
Holding up against anything.

A prism of emotion,
Catching the light of others,
And adding it to his own,
Shining back anew,
Telling of himself.

Then he falls,
He slips away,
Pelted and battered,
He shatters against the ground,
Broken by words.

The pieces still shine,
But he is no more.
The glass man has fallen,
And is soon swept up,
And dimmed forever.

Yeah, this one is kind of a symbol of my bad mood today.
Last edited:


Moon don't tell me lies, don't let me roam forever
The Good Season

The sun shines sooner,
The grass grows greener,
The days are warmer,
The nights, shorter.

The flowers bloom,
The people zoom,
The birds groom,
The trees loom.

The good season,
A time of warmth,
Of color and scent,
And of family.

All is new,
A fresh page in the world,
Every year,

A Silent Wind

A Silent wind blew through
The quiet wood,
And the creatures knew
What no one could.

A secret cold as ice and snow,
And dark as night,
But quiet as a river's flow,
And brilliant like light.

Something only the wise would hear,
As they walked alone,
That brings the truth so very near
That chills the bone.

That silent wind now is still and dull
And flows no longer.
The thoughts of minds is now made null,
And makes their bodies stronger.

What wind blows now, through yonder wood?
The creatures sigh,
As all they knew and all the could,
Was all a lie.
Last edited:


Moon don't tell me lies, don't let me roam forever
The sound comes,
A marching beat,
That moves the feet.

The sound echoes,
A hollow tone,
That chills the bone.

The four beats,
All in my head,
It can't be read.

Can't you hear?
It tells me things,
as it rings!

Four beats,
Never ceasing,

It tells me now,
What I must do.
I'll end the world,
And start with you.

...A poem about the Master from Dr. Who.