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This is Dialga's Poetrydex entry. Please Comment and enjoy.

Twisted PerspectiveEdit

The dead, they dance,
Before my very eyes.
They love so much, in a trance,
He will end in swift surprise.

She will last a long year,
Full of only painful breaths,
And travel to a building near,
And leap, adding to the deaths.

But they dance together now,
Before my very bloodshot eyes,
I want to warn them, but how?
What words could they take from my noise?

My mind is as mad as a hatter,
My perspective is twisted, wrong,
Together all the moments shatter,
Dead people never stay dead for long.

Now I'm shaking, cold,
He, too, but for regret,
Because the man of old,
I see should not be born yet.

Even though her hope is gone,
She moves along, but I know her fate,
Though she moves along, moves along,
I know she's moving too slow, too late.

Everything is broken, now,
I can not survive, now,
Order won't be woken, now,
The dead are alive, now.

The girl who hopes her love will come back,
Wastes her life for the sake of a bird that's flown,
If I just told her she'd get her life on track,
But then she's a little girl, than an old, bitter crone-
And then, of course, she's gone.

It's the little things I remember,
Like how he'll never forget her,
Pieces of the storm I can discember,
Like how the father didn't let her...

And my own future to me is clear,
As I stand here on insanity's border,
My future is to be spent forever here,
Seeing fragmented lives with no order.

I'm screaming at the prison of my mind,
Captured, twisted, in this sorrow of a life.

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