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Old 08-24-2005   #1
Sir Auric
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I Rest Here

I've fixed it.

Yes!

Now, I've got to get the other guy to delete his stuff.



Behold, my brainchildren!
__________________
With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.

Last edited by Sir Auric; 08-26-2005 at 11:10 AM.
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Old 08-24-2005   #2
Shadowinsane2
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Re: I Rest Here

Wha? There isn't anything there but "I think I did this right..."

Okay....
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Old 08-24-2005   #3
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Re: I Rest Here

That sucks...Maybe you can fix it?
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Old 08-24-2005   #4
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Re: I Rest Here

That sucks...I'm sorry. *takes a bite of top ramen* I don't know how to do that either...Best leave it up to weasle.

EDIT: whoops
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Old 08-24-2005   #5
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Re: I Rest Here

The Tears of Jesus, The Sweat of Satan, and the Blood of Injury Are Mine

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sweat the tears of Jesus for the blood of Christmas Eve.
I made a sword of angered glass and painted all of your grief.
I supplement my cheapened arms with a halo crafted frail.
Weaving (oh, so intricate) my mesmerizing tale.

I bleed the sweat of Satan for a taste of what is fair.
Mutilate to rest at night, avoiding retraced glares.
I supplement my bartering with shackles made of gold.
Pulverizing everything, my heart is growing cold.

I cry the blood of Injury for the sweat of labor's womb.
Wishing for the rest to change to strip that frightful gloom.
I supplement my piece of mind for a piece of molded bread.
Synthesizing my redemption in my fickle head.



Evil, Sordid, Candid, Wastrel- Blinding

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The scent of metal singed with blood...
I am right and overthrown.
The trance developed in the silence...
Trellis grafted to my spine.
Paladin and worthy martyrs
Fill the hungered maw of gore.
Embelished and emblazoned...
Mounting mounds of mortal emissaries.
In first person, this continues...
Set the target from the tomb.
Open havoc with a pry bar...
Run in terror...
It's not this way...


Help (A Plea to Part With)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This poem is written as a single sentence, mind you.



Open blades
Terrorized those who wound up dead
In their mother's arms,
Bleeding as the insecurities and weaknesses
Tear their entire world apart
Piece by piece
While the angels weep
Over the fiction produced by the false hope of glory
For the weaklings
Who couldn't accept their accounts
And carry on
With their lives
Without striking the innocent
And corrupting others
With their fickle anger,
Which is like an empty goblet,
Drained of all its contents,
Holding nothing for anyone
Unwilling to give themselves up to the accursed spawn of evil
Who relishes in killing and spilling martyr's blood,
And the blood of children
Who have so many difficulties
In their lives
That they cannot overcome alone...



Since morbidity seems to be the latest theme, I thought this was fitting.



A Reaper (To Matt With Love)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A passive glance there all the while.
My intentions overlook your grievances.
When my whims call for blood, I merely follow command.
After all, I am condemned to that live of solitude...
Blazing a new path, though narrow...
Asunder, I contain it.
Intricate by design, yet scorned by the artisan.
Weaving hatred...weaving...weaving...
Drape the courier's sickle over my night tidings...


Follow the Leader or Follow the Lead?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Will I follow? Will I lead?
Find what I see; hold it close.
And I spoke to real commands.
Functions fake when time rends soul.

Slither where the ground breathes deep.
Sit, back turned, all the while.
Noteworthy...shunned the knowledge.
Follow? Lead? It's a maze that binds.

Criticize the moral fibers.
Blastphemy...nothing counts.
I want to know what's worth fighting for.
Crazed and burdened, I sit idle.

Confused, I will not move.
I will not move. I'm so scared...
Trampled by the blinded pious.
Cower down and live to wastrel...



That Which Was Taken, I Gladly Gave Away

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was there and felt the pain.
Life was harsh and I was strained.
But, through these things, I learned to live.
My life is hard, but I will give...
All of my heart to what is left today.

The car, the peolpe standing there...
The ones who told me that they cared...
All my worldy items gone...
My relatives; my empty home...
Things have changed...I'm who I am today.

My child will here me tell my tale.
The horror and my thoughts derailed.
My husband and his soul renewed.
What (together) we've imbued...
In the children we have loved today.

I learned which seeds that i should sow.
The poet wrote me, saying so.
He recalled and felt my tears...
Sympathy for all my fears...
I will live on...the past is not today.


Mess Made With An Unclean Photograph

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the frame, I held your likeness.
You were smiling, as you do.
I felt tears approach my heartache.
I knew there that you weren't her.

The slightest touch-you'd shift your tensions.
I would look and never see.
I turned and faced my potent mirror,
Analyzing my weak eyes.

"Blink," you'd tell me; I would shelter...
Shattered hatred overcomes.
As I burst inside, I'm dying.
That glass that held you (immortallized...)

The burden lifted as you crinkled,
Not contained by your facade.
I fought on while your smile crippled
The fibers that would strain my hand.

Now, I see with murky vision. Obscured? Yes, but I perceive.
Each day when I clutched your image, the leeching lie held dominance.
I thought you were what I held dear...

I'll clean up the glass later.



Thine Eyes: A Tribute to a Modified Exisitance

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm going all out this time. This is probably the best I could ever offer.
Sorry that it's so long, but do try to finish it.

I.
Open the methods into the lights of chaos.
Some look into a vortex and see nothing but a darkly void.
Others probe this darkly void with an instrument called the mind.
They make amazing disocoveries.
Discovering themselves.
Discovering for themselves whole new spectrums of light.
Doscovering the fabric of the universe even.
These discoveries are not closed.
They are open for anyone willing to chance an arm into the void and pluck some fruit.
We, too, can pluck new worlds with our fingertips.
In the vortexes of our imagination...
Worlds of dancing creatures...
Have a whirl with Lady Entropy.

II.
Cherish thine eyes for they may not always belong to you alone.
If lucky, we become property of the porthole through which the worldy see.
First, stand in a worthy position.
From a station worthy of taking a glance.
If a viewer is happy at what he sees, he will return.
If he finds it lacking, he will search elsewhere.
But, if you are lucky, and your porthole is clean, it will become a favorite window of his, and he will return with even wiser allies.
Word gets around quickly.
They will come to discover you.
They will discover through you-the world of me.
You will discover through they-men do not see with eyes.

III.
Fathom the unthinkable.
You.
I.
Many others can fathom...but only as they are born along.
They cannot be made that way by synthetic means.
Above all, be patient for it.
With good luck and perhaps impeccable timing and quitetude in a natural setting with open ears conducive of listening to sublety, you will find your instruction.
On the wind, by a creaking branch, by a moon cloud, or by the sound of bubbling water.

IV.
Burn away the effigies of those who made you struggle and strain.
They do not need you as such, for that is a work they do fine of their own accord.
But those who accompany you, if they accompany you, do it of their own will.
To hear what is, to them, a unique voice.
Like music they wish to be near...
To be near that one who is a maker of things.
To inherit its design.
Because they are wise (but without fingers.)

V.
Take into your hand the dust of the ancients and cast it away like a worthless object.
The dust of ancients is indeed an object (though not a worthless one.)
To each his own demise.
Though you should never cast the spirit of ancients, for these are those whom instruct with greatest delight.

VI.
Dwelling upon the abhorred is equivalent to worshipping a false god or exalting one that you wished down on.
A call, relative to position, depending on your own, be it right or left.
Closer to a mark of your own coordinates than a fixed judgment.

VII.
Eat the book of knowledge with a morbid, unrelenting hunger.
Morbid acuity of the senses.
This is not a liability of the soul.
Rather, it's heaven's finest gold.

VIII.
A hunger that is insatiable without proper nourishment and care.
For those who hunger for knowledge, there is no subtitute.

IX.
Once devoured, those methods can cascade from your mind, forming a sapphire pool of reputable newfounding.
Cascade from the mind in fact, like sapphire heat lightning.
Generating pools of electricity, waiting to be put to work or conducted to a grounding end or at the death returned to earth, where it will seek venture and a new host.

X.
With hope, this understanding will wipe away that binding shame and remove the binding shame and remove the shackles of torment from the body of the no longer wretched.
Where and when we wear our wisdom like the robe of a sage, it makes a cape of radiance to our bounty.
Unshackle ignorance from its coiled resting place at the core of our existance, and we, too, unshackle the corresponding anchor of shame the grounded us to our former state.
The soul flies away like a butterfly.
Alas, the body is at peace with the mind.
We are free to get some work done.

XI.
Newly freed, trumphing ove the insolent.
Hopefully marking our triumph with a trumpet blast as ear-shattering as the corresponding celebration.

XII.
Away (with thine eyes.)
We send our eyes away on a journey to seek knowledge.
Away they fly, over the world, dropping old crumbs of foolishness along the way.

XIII.
Thine eyes again thy own.
Alas, having learned a thing or two, they return to us in working order.
Our sacks of ignorance empty for the first time, we begin to see.
The dross has fallen away, and we are alive on earth for the very first time.



Black Rose Noon

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Does the darkness kiss your eyelids?
Will you scorn me in my sleep?
The blackest rose, you chose the violence.
I couldn't pick the flowers here...

The toil of all my raging nightmares
Is chanting and awakening.
Infidelity you worshipped.
Surrounded by this, my utmost fear...

Why do I ask God for mercy?
With effort, time's wrath subsides.
Apathy...your hate is pointed
In my direction. The stronger liar...

The winds are changing, mocking me.
Do I run from crashing tides?
Your clotted light has hopes to crush us.
An effigy...A victim to your altar's fire...

Primordial desires consume you.
'Tis so sweet to drown our cause.
You know no better. Just destroy it.
Aim true, my love, my nectar's blood...

Is your toungue still dripping acid?
Brazen, the victimized inherit flaws.
I see the heated desperation.
Annihalate in me that which is good...

I won't disperse from your last hope.
The garden strangled my old skies.
The single flower, your black rose,
Desecrates and rules us both...

Did the luminescent twilight
Mirror all your countless lies?
A twinkle in this time of nothing,
My wish (indulgences) I wrote...

When the fountain overturned here,
The rivulets of salvation strained.
The corpses of the one's you've once courted
Are walking now. We're fading soon...

Your horrors live with us now,
Smithing torrents of sparks and rain.
The life you've built dug both of our graves.
We rest together...at black rose noon...



Silences, Feelings, and Nothings

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I will not wake up in time.
If beauty be truth and truth be time, where does virtue lie?
Kill them all and let me sleep in their blood...bleeding trails.
We don't need to feel your feelings.
We are I and I don't know.
Silences are never symbolic.
They are only there.
The silence and the feelings will haunt my blood blanket.
"Pick a flower, hold your breath, and drift away."

V This is from a Stone Temple Pilot song. V

"Pick a song and sing a yellow nectarine.
Take a bath; I'll drink the water that you leave.
If you should die before me, ask if you could bring a friend.
Pick a flower, hold your breath and drift away."

It inspired me to come up with this.


Where the Dreams Are Still Contained

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weakened by this state of dreams, I try to fight to storm.
Frailty is mine, it seems.
Rising to my pain threshold.
I need to be cured of this; self-proclaimed diseases shatter...
My delusion is my truth...truth how distant from my bed.
Cloak me with my trial and error.
Wait until my soul is torn.
Throw me across empty flowers and preach the petals bleeding boon.
Puddled like my insecurity at the foot of a demise.
Unsheathed emotion engulfs my tidal chimes.
I just want a piece of something that would never fade.
Her chemise is clenched in my hand.
The fabric of my feelings.
The scent of torment lights my doorway, asking to enter...
I refuse and turn from my waking nightmares.
The whereabouts I traverse, yet it seems
That when I pack up my belongings-I pour them in the floor.


Finally

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stay back until I go...
I pray to God thsi overflows.
I'll take this life, dispose of it,
Denouncing your weak sentiments.
I know where I stand today.
Life means nothing (full of hate.)
I think it's wise to go away.
Vanquish the scars that they create.
I'll drive this knife so steadily,
Watching crimson drain from me.
I'll taste the water filled with blood.
I'm a martyr. (My cause is good...)
If you find me, leave me there.
I am happy. Don't be scared.
My bleeding pattern traced the floor.
Sorrow dead forevermore.
Wash my knife. Put it in place
In my right hand and kiss my face.
Realize what all this means.
I've created my own dream.
Now, I'm feeling no more pain.
I will not suffer again.
Take a picture. Show and tell.
Let them know I've left this Hell.


Shade

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His dark blade screams a black curse to the living; a totured invitation to any who would stand before this executioner of Hell.
The rampant martyrdom and the insatiable hunger for blood cost hime his humanity.
Rusted, blood-stained armor hangs over his sillhouette as he thrusts the world into oblivion to join his sanity and his denizens in the bowels of Hell.
Dreams of blood and death are a cloud that looms near his hollow being.







I'm adding all of the time, too.
__________________
With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 08-24-2005   #6
Sir Auric
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Re: I Rest Here

Gone

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Angel without wings.
Harpsichord devoid of strings.
Without abeyance or decree.
Gone.

Robes of white fall free.
Bloodstained hands no longer clean.
Bad moon rising; toxic gleam.
Gone.

Watched her walk away.
Turning down the light of day.
Crazed and lost in her dismay.
Gone.

She is gone...



Who Knows?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wilted madness.
Trials through a tunnel of evening's shatter.
A snow of crimson eating from sanity.
All for a taste of what renders us useless to this place.
There (waiting) to throw a lance and impale the remains.
Chastising a wrong where there is none.
Gossamer ending.



Quietened

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her voice is dry from calling out;
She sees her hand, shameful as it is.
Her life is cluttered with all this pain.
She closed the blinds; the blackness quietened her...




Falling Awake (a poem)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How the candle lights your face...
The impression lasts forever.
Could this question have an answer?
Take me there, where time elapses more slowly.
Spellbound, mesmerized.
I try to wake up in your eyes...
Stare there forever, teasing all those memories.
Casually, like illness creeping toward us, is the face of the clock.
When I fall awake... Devouring this life.
Fortified by fraility and lifted by yours (life.)
Total silhouette trappinf the shadows by the night and weeping by the day.


Still adding...
__________________
With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 08-24-2005   #7
psychoDiablo
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Re: I Rest Here

fool.
ask weasel.

or do what dean started.
make one thread. then add teh URL's of all your work into that thread. it's easier that way. look up the Index/Collections. there's quite abit of authors there with there work. which reminds me i should have added the last of the poems i put up here.
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I wouldn't say I'm psycho only because I'm able to handle it.
Now learn patience

To chill is to be chillin.
Chillin is cooperating with your surroundings, unknowing'st of what everything is capable of; and all the while, as it happens and after, to accept without any thought of good or bad, but mainly, just enjoying rather deeply, the moment you had to sit and think. (Not thinking.)

|-Mr.MCR-|

Will you write
Will you love
Will you enjoy
Life when I am gone?
You will.
by Angelina

"I have lived life as horrible as it was, and as beautiful as it has become."
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Old 08-26-2005   #8
Sir Auric
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Re: I Rest Here

Live a Dream and Sleep Forever

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Desolation in the footnotes...
Ridicule the fault line's wife.
Augmenting an angel's prime thought...
Seasoned, trained to take a life.

(I speak now in spite of reason.
I must finish.
I won't let down my stare quite yet.
There are far too many atrocities left to ignore them now.)

Laceration in the head first...
Mortal coils will come undone.
Dementing every fibrous weakling.
Murdered, joined the rack (his son.)

(It's so dark here.
I see that we are not coming out alive.
I know it's too soon.
Figure out my bread crumb scars.)

Fermentation in the midscene...
Velvet fools the focus deaf.
Resenting seasons welcome fiction...
Angered, blessed the bleeding breath.

(I feel cryptic.
I wish my sleep was giving me hope.
It seems that it is over.
Windows have closed and now we'll go away.)
__________________
With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 08-30-2005   #9
Sir Auric
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Re: I Rest Here

Frea Aelmihtig

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nifelheim has claimed the women, the sickly, and the elders frail.
Nary a female worthy be enough to flee the guise of Hell.

Midgard holds the average man, the dreamers, and the lost.
The woman scorned will never know enough to pay the earthen cost.

Asagard embraces heroes, the gracious, and the Valkyries.
The women serve the men forever (enough to rend the heaven's pleas.)



This is my representation of the Viking belief of Heaven, Hell, and middle earth.

They believed that most women went to Hell, along with the very old and the terminally ill.

The few women that arrived in Heaven were to serve the good men and war heroes as Valkyries.

Quite a chauvonistic lot, I'd say...


Forgive any misspellings...
__________________
With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 09-08-2005   #10
Sir Auric
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Re: I Rest Here

Deliverance Utopia

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lovers' despair.
Their perfect world is clouded
Every thought hits the floor as the color leaves the room.
Her heart is torn as he lies down.
For so long, they do not speak.
"What do we do?"
"It's all right."
"Everything's different though."
"How does this feel?"
She squeezes his hand firmly.
"I don't know."
He looks down at his feet.
The feet that led him to her.
The ones that now cursed him and mocked his every footstep.
"No one will accept this."
"Where will we go?"
"I'll go somewhere-somewhere where no one can find me."
She weeps uncontrollably.
She can't breathe.
"You can't."
"Who will stop me? This God who laughs as he rolls the dice that confirm our fall? The God who watches us make foolish decisions, yet refuses to stop us?"
"Stop it!"
"I won't. I cannot live a life where hypocrisy is all that I stand for. Lies weave nothing, unless they weave hatred and pettiness. I cannot live knowing that your soul and the soul of the child are consumed in perdition because of my atrocity."
"Stop it! You're tearing out my heart!"
"Am I?"
"Yes."
"Then come with me. It's easy."
Silence settles, so gentle.
Tension builds in the wake of quietness.
She cries out.
"No! You can't do it!"
"But, the knives are so sharp."
"You...you wouldn't."
"Would you follow me?"
"Yes. Without you, there is nothing for me to live for."
"I won't do anything, then."
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Promise me that you won't."
"Fine."
"Thank you."
"And you won't?"
"No."
They separate, each fearing for the other, knowing that both of their lives hang on the edge of uncertainty and death.



He drives so fast.
His thoughts are laced with hatred and confusion.
Hatred for his actions.
Hatred for her undying love.
Hatred for the way he had hurt her.
"I could do it now. She's not here."
He runs a stop sign.
The trees fly by.
He envies them.
They never worry.
They have no hearts or souls to hurt.
They have armor, unlike him.
"I promised her."
He cuts the engine.
Crying, he goes inside.



She slams the door; she had looked outside for so long, feeling the night air brushing her cheeks.
"Dammit!"
She flings herself down on the sofa, sobbing and screaming.
"I'm so sorry! If I only knew! Please don't do it! It's all my fault!"
She walks into the kitchen.
"They are so sharp."
She feels sickness creeping upon her.
She knows how painful it is for him.
She feels it; she wants to feel it.
It's her fault (she feels.)
She gave in.
She was such a fool.
" I can't."
She chooses the short one, the one with the sharpest blade.
She lies on the floor.
"No..."
She rises and tosses the knife to the floor.
She walks to the bathroom, makeup running down her face.
She turns on the bath water.
It is warm.
She undresses and sits down in the shower.
Slowly, she sinks beneath the water.
She sees the light piercing the water.
She feels the breath escaping her.
It is too much.
" I can't do it! I just want to die! Just let me die so everything will go away!"
She crawls from the shower, gasping.
Naked, she returns to the kitchen and retrieves the knife.
One slight cut.
"Is this so wrong?"
Another.
Blood trickled down her arm.
Another.
"It's so warm..."
Her wet body became sticky with blood.
Another.
The telephone rings.



He waits.
Finally, she picks up the phone.
"I hurt."
"What have you done?"
"Nothing."
"You promised me."
"I'm sorry."
"I'll be there shortly."



He has the means to find the truth.
He rushes inside to find her asleep in the floor.
It is so dark.
"Wake up."
She doesn't stir.
His hand feels something warm.
He rolls her over.
She is limp and lifeless.
He didn't arrive in time.
His nightmare crawls up his spine and strikes him insane.
"No!"
This couldn't happen.
Things weren't supposed to end this way.
He needed to go there now.
As she would follow him, he would follow her.
He looks for her deliverance utopia.
He finds his deliverance, his knive's just providence, and his death.
Holding her close, he prepared for fatherhood.



Crystal Palace

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I live in a crystal palace,
In a city; Deningrad.
I live in a crystal palace;
Everyone around me's sad.
When I wake up I shall see
A crystal princess beckoning
(Lead me deeper in her room
To take my soul away.)

Waking in my crystal palace,
Tearing down the curtained walls.
Crying in my crystal palace;
Here is where I'll take my fall.
When I wake up, I will see
A crystal princess wave to me
(Coax me darker in her room
To take my soul away.)

Dying in my crystal palace,
Succumbed to the evil here.
Buried in my crystal palace,
Confirming all my mortal fears,
In my last hours, I shall see
The crystal princess mocking me
(Locking the door to her room,
She took my soul away.)



I really like this bit.
It's kinda cute in its own way.
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With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 09-08-2005   #11
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Re: I Rest Here

"The Tears of Jesus, The Sweat of Satan, and the Blood of Injury Are Mine

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sweat the tears of Jesus for the blood of Christmas Eve.
I made a sword of angered glass and painted all of your grief.
I supplement my cheapened arms with a halo crafted frail.
Weaving (oh, so intricate) my mesmerizing tale.

I bleed the sweat of Satan for a taste of what is fair.
Mutilate to rest at night, avoiding retraced glares.
I supplement my bartering with shackles made of gold.
Pulverizing everything, my heart is growing cold.

I cry the blood of Injury for the sweat of labor's womb.
Wishing for the rest to change to strip that frightful gloom.
I supplement my piece of mind for a piece of molded bread.
Synthesizing my redemption in my fickle head."


I REALLY like this poem. It captivated me right away and kept me reading throughout.
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Old 09-27-2005   #12
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Re: I Rest Here

Cleansing

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bittersweet memories make the lights seem dimmer.
Sheltered, our free thought flutters about.
Hexed, our hearts leak innocence.
The pool at your feet is everything that you love.
It's everything that you loathe.
It's what you know and what you want to know.
It's what you want to forget.
It's what makes you feel.
Your feet are stained by everything that you have lived for.

You know what cleanses you.



I, Transparant

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All of my faults push me back.
The words that I speak build my walls.
To those whom I counter, I shall sear.
I may be spiteful, this I know.
There are those whom I love...
They may not hear my words as sympathetic.
They must be patient.
If they cry, they will know that I was honest again.

My beliefs are firm while yielding...both at once while not at all.
A crusade of understanding drives me onward.
I guess it's what I had in mind.
Just be still and ask me nothing.
I will be sorry.
I am sorry.

That is only a beginning.
There is time to lapse these feelings.
The feelings that make me wish that I held nothing.

I, transparant, apologize.



Murder at Black House 43

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mascara scars are bleeding.
I chase the knives that you hold.
Traumatizing yellow lights.
The night is dark as I scream.
Midnight tracings, bedside riddles.
Normal, almost normal, and completely distressed...
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With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 10-13-2005   #13
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Re: I Rest Here

The Kiss, The Guilt, and The Thief

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three times (I was) left to test your doorway...
Why you smile is beyond my concern.

The first time, you fooled me.
I was all alone.
I felt the warmth returning to me.
Your head on my shoulder...
Your frail hand in mine...
Vulnerable, I met your gaze.
You succubus...
You stole my breath.
You stole my weakened heart.

Confused, but happy, I shed guilt.
You did not, for you had wronged someone.

The second time, the lie continued.
I had left my heart to you.
Though your blame was placed on me,
I refused to give up.
Again, I felt the evil power;
You commanded a toxic fallacy.
Another kiss, another guilt trip...
How could I retain my trust?
I was just a (fall-back) plaything.

Still myself, I gave this faith.
I thought that you would change your life.

Finally, the third time approached.
You lost everything that you held dear.
The fool (I am) was there to hold you.
One last time, you led me on.
This was all.
My shattered heart pitied you.
I left you and your cigarette.
I'm still alone (but so are you.)
Enjoy your life; it's now your curse.

Three times (I was)left to test your doorway...
How you smile is beyond my concern.



"Three Feelings, Unnamed and Best Off That Way"

Loathing all of the consequential, thinking that you know what makes you happy.
Over and over, you fall victim to those who prey on your menacing flaws.
Very much an attribute, this grief-stricken, bargain-spitting, fall-back case.
Each wasted syllable shatters in five hundred days.

Final proclamation of a kiss steaked down the face.
April and the instegations mingle and entwine.
Insincere apologies from hands without names...
Touching my flaws with trust, I sting.
Holding back to prolong the agony, I'm a fool in the utmost.

Jarring my profoundness with an atrium of deceit...
Override a careful notion, heart stained in hate.
You wouldn't even understand the darkness that could be created from your eyes...



Part I: Learning the Sickness: Wanting it Still

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Watch the world pass by in downpours of courtly love.
Fogged over mirror hides me from my sullen image.
My desire to feel that feeling haunts my dreams (and all).

Time is passing violently, sheltered existance shattered.
There you stood; you coaxed me in and won again.
My desire to feel that feeling sideswiped me (that fall).



Part II: Immunity to Sickness: Developmental Tragedies

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time is passing miserably...lights are growing weaker.
I sense a founding in my soul that tells me that I'm doomed.
My desire to keep that feeling overrides my happiness.

This is difficult to grasp; I wanted...now I wait.
This emotion holds me under, bending (snapping) my will.
My desire to keep that feeling endangers my existance.



Part III: Succumbing to Sickness: Thus Proving That the Disease is Inescapable

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything is over and I feel so very hollow inside.
Why did I hang on to the empty shell that I memorized?
My desire to purge that feeling is coursing through my veins.

Moving onward, less than casually, still burning alive.
The clinging shadows never disappear from view.
My desire to purge this feeling is driving me insane.
__________________
With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 10-13-2005   #14
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Re: I Rest Here

The Muse and the Cicada Uprising

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An overdose of cicada pills.
The blood of a million massacres is on my hands.
Thirty thousand insect soldiers...
Synthetic, symbiotic infantry.

Cicada paradise.
Marching onward to their own demise.

I believe...
Tearing towards the trees...
A mutant masterpiece...
Controlled, deployed by me.

Unweave and unwind.
Destroy and make blind.

The battle is over.

The shells are to be left behind.

The locusts will cry in fear...



Victory and a Halo

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A southern cross is held aloft.
They're trudging down the street.
Battles (now) and heart-shaped memories admit defeat.
The northern star seen from afar will tell a man where secrets are,
When west begins with eastern winds,
A supplicant will meet.

A braver man will wave his hand;
The weapons he will understand.
Feeling weak and seeking death, those pleas will reprimand.
A coward's son will be the one to carry the weight of the gun.
A meeker man will pray to land
In safer soils and sands.
__________________
With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 10-13-2005   #15
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Re: I Rest Here

you're the shit mike!!! I love your poetry. it's shiesta cool.
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raised by tv sets ... abandoned every mile
we never get respect ... never a fair trial
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Old 11-10-2005   #16
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Re: I Rest Here

I Could Never Underestimate a Beauty Such as Yours

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fairest skin
Is crying out
And weakening
My sense of reality.
A passive glance
Could melt away
My sanity.------------------
------------I wouldn't mind...



Doorstop scenery.

Multiplied eight times by the resonance of my supremacy.
It doesn't make me feel much better, carving your epitaph.
You couldn't get too far with whisperings of younger failures...
Shutters gray and peeling, telling lies and blinking storms.
The welcome mat is tattered, watching as I'm sanctioned.
Weighted down and tending my sigil.
"That's not true," you speak to me with your callous tongue.
Branches (scattered densely) and earthen spite deceased.
Terrorize a mortal friend for my penance and a token.
No purchases are well-endowed enough to cast a stone.
The shelter crumbles slowly, narrarated by the left hand of justice.
Ending revealed in nightly cowardice, bellows of despairing seas.

Dear me, dreadful blasphemer...




Cremated, Scattered, and Loved By All

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A beautiful, incinerated soul drifts away.
Transfixed and no one's claim.
Reaching out to touch her is a sin that is well.
Moonlight reflecting (is all).

It's miserable knowing she's there.
The flames erupting from her fingertips.
I would kiss them nonetheless, it's true.

Slipping away from me...
She knows it's fine to sing.

I don't...I swear I do not know.

I collected the ashes everywhere that I went
(Obviously in a daze).
Scattering them for all to see...that is wonderful.
The wind reflects your soul.

I'm miserable knowing that you're gone.
I have to view the sun for those flames.
I can't kiss them, no...but I would.

Regarding this life for me...
She would wish me to sing.

I will...I swear that I will sing...




My Reflection 57 Times

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Look at me and tell me what you see.
Is it the broken visage that I know?

Fifty-seven fragments of the mirror that I loathe.
I counted every one and washed away the blood.

Memorize each shard as I pluck it from the floor.
Each cut is painful, but I never cease.

I know this darkness...I memorized it, too.
Turn away your face and leave me here.
__________________
With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 11-10-2005   #17
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Re: I Rest Here

Reward the Faithful

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lone soldier stands at ease.
His home has turned to dust.
His liege is dead.
His love is gone.
Adopt the blade he must...

The cliffside breathes in peace.
A journey has begun.
Sword in hand,
The man rides on.
His shield reflects the sun...

The angels hear his cry.
The anguish beyond time.
A war inside...
His soul is torn.
The heavens see the crime...

The smile of God is wry.
"It's time for him to leave.
His heart is pure.
His mind is worn.
It's time to set him free."



Let's Go To Sunday School

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From the Book of Common Prayer
A million men will call.
Drink the wine of Jesus Christ
And putrefy your fall.

Overturn the pews;
Run screaming down the aisles...
Heretics and blasphemers (in)
Holy, corrosive bile.

Desecrate the pulpit
With dreams pf mortal sin.
Wield the hymnal as a sword
And shred the words witihin.

Rectified awakenings...
Religion; church defaced...
Once the sermon's over,
The memory's erased.



Don't Breathe; Rest Your Hand and Still Your Eyes

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Onward march...
Will you purchase my heart...

Tainted fields...
This reality never yields...

Your betrayal...
This nightmare will prevail.

Forceful sentry...every morning I have said (to you).

Sideways glance...
Do you need a second chance?

Kiss of death...
Let me help you hold your breath.

Close those eyes...
In blindness, you'll find no surprise.

Quietly calling...someone asked me...I won't ask (for you).



Winter and Wasteland

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If November...
You'll remember through the trials that build December.
Every single dying ember...
Snuffed inside your heart.

And a reason...
By this treason (through the torment that kills seasons).
Every single morbid freezing...
Shadowed by your snows.

But, no hurry...
In this flurry through the blinding that you'll scurry.
Every single sightless fury...
Courted by your hate.
__________________
With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 12-07-2005   #18
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Re: I Rest Here

Gone

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Angel without wings.
Harpsichord devoid of strings.
With no abeyance or decree.
Gone.

Robes of white fall free.
Blood-stained hands no longer clean.
Bad moon rising; toxic gleam.
Gone.

Watched her walk away.
Turning down the light of day.
Crazed and lost in her dismay.
Gone.

She is gone.


Don't Breathe; Rest Your Hand and Still Your Eyes

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Onward march...
Will you purchase my heart...

Tainted fields...
This reality never yields...

Your betrayal...
This nightmare will prevail.

Forceful sentry...every morning I have said (to you).

Sideways glance...
Do you need a second chance?

Kiss of death...
Let me help you hold your breath.

Close those eyes...
In blindness, you'll find no surprise.

Quietlt calling...someone asked me...I won't ask (for you).



Her

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Silenced by the hand.
She walked, commanding.
From each pore, the void empties, answering the portraits of Hell.
The stairway darkens underneath the violence.
She walked again.
Corruption when the angels left wing was severed.
Crashed like a black tide into the chasm in each withered soul.
Forked lightning.
A flock of madness spirals and plunges the wicked further into insanity.
Incoherant chanting.
Flooding behind her flowing cloak.
The blackness clots the light.

Laughing, she goes away...
__________________



War Torn Soldier

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kneel down and pray in the dust that is rising.
Search behind each wall.

Never look back to the children who are crying.
You must see your children soon.

Engulfing the night with decay that will falter.
Train your weak eyes to destroy.

Look to the clouds through the haze that is binding,
Counting down the days...


The Final Touches

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A hand over her mouth as she makes the final brushstrokes.
With anarchy on her shoulder, she shed her extra coat.
Her maddened smile illuminates her canvas.

It was complete.
She tosses her ancient brush to the floor.
Now, with the finishing touches applied, her smile disappears.

Whirling around, she removes her eyes from her creation.
Reaching across the table, she grasps the candle setting there.
Looking at the painting one last time, she sets it ablaze
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With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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Old 12-07-2005   #19
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Re: I Rest Here

hmmm....now, I am completely aware that my poems wouldn't hold a candle to yours mike...but I would like add one or two of mine. it's prolly the worst peice of shit you'll ever read, so if you feel the need to scream "booo" violently loud and throw ruint veggies...by all means, do...I will understand.





Aftermath:

desperatly holding
something out of reach
trying hard to figure words
but theres no speech
confused- the room is spinning
falling on hands and knees
crying uncontrollably
from the inside it bleeds
blackness overwhelming
silence fills the air
lost forever
gone from eyes
a blank and vacent stare



Broken Peices:

Broken peices,
black and blue;
His heart beats faint,
and hides the truth.
His love is fragile,
like a rose;
It wilts away,
and no one knows.

Behind his empty smile,
burried deep below;
Cries a long lost soul,
not knowing where to go.
Lying in a corner,
curled up in a ball;
He watches his world crumble,
not knowing when he'll fall.

The dreams he has,
are the only escape;
A place to hide,
from his lonely fate.
He's hid the pain,
inside too long;
He had the strength,
but now it's gone.

His soul is sinking,
deeper inside;
below the point
where the demons hide
He's tired of running,
and hiding his fears;
His arm swallows the blade,
and he drowns in tears.

Broken peices,
black and blue;
His heart beats faint,
and hides the truth.
His love is fragile,
like a rose;
It wilts away,
and no one knows.




k so they're a little depressing.....



The Threat :


and you bind me tight
sweating - suffocating
in my own private hell of cheap perfume.

And the smell of lust has invaded and raped my senses.
A slow fog rolls over me -
Up my thighs, over my ribs
and again - it brings me to you.

I am your rhyme.
I am your reason.
I am your voiced contagion.
I am your blood.
I am your god.
I am your tainted addiction.



ok last one....*opens umbrella to sheild self from flying objects*



My world was so screwed
Everything was a mess
I felt like running
But found nothing, only wilderness,
I fooled myself too much
Thought I could get both
But I finally figured it all out
I needed to fly the most

I figured out that all the pain in life
Goes mostly to the heart
Then as you hit the ground
Your world just falls apart
I figured out how cruel it can be
And how life pretty much ruins it all
But I guess there's nothing I can do now
No one was there to break my fall

People said it would never change
But I wouldn't listen to friends
They said that I will only get hurt
God, I sure fooled them
For I was the one who let myself down
Who never showed how much it killed
I swore, I cursed, I said it all
It all emptied and then it all filled

These tears have been here for days now
And I think they'll be here forever more
If I don't let go of all the hurt and pain
My body will be broken and torn
But you two were the ones with style
You never let me down
I hate to see this life end
Please don't let me go with a frown

I had to leave this life I made
To go somewhere else
To go and find something new
Something I've never felt
I climbed that ladder up high and tall
And when I jumped I started to cry
For when I reached the very bottom
I realized... I couldn't fly



I'm not good with happy primpy sunshine everything's perfect poems....
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and what did you expect ... a perfect child
raised by tv sets ... abandoned every mile
we never get respect ... never a fair trial
no one gives a shit ... as long as we smile
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Old 03-15-2006   #20
Sir Auric
ZOMGBBQCHEESESNACKS!
 
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Join Date: Jan 2005
Location: In my home town of Holly Pond, Alabama
Age: 34
Posts: 2,737
Rep Power: 43
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Re: I Rest Here

Undaunted

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"See that void?" the hero taunted.
"The one you seek resides within."
The young man stood his ground, undaunted,
Prepared to slay this source of sin.

The hero smiled and drew the blade,
Warning the boy of dangers near.
"For you this sword was gladly made,
When you must save whom you hold dear."

The chasm breathed a breath of fury;
The boy inhaled the contagion;
The fumes of filth arose, obscuring...
All hope of sight these airs would rend.

The brave young man reached out his hand.
He grasped the sword, devoid of fear.
With this weapon, he'd change the sands...
The fevered demon's flesh he'd sear.



Notes on the Slight

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Viewing from quietness, I mark down your flaws.
I laugh.
I sneer.
I trace your figure with my accusing finger.
Cursing and smirking, learning and hating.
Thickening my pages with your tears and self-loathing.
I'm seeing.
You're bleeding.
You're loving.
I'm writing.
Sealed with my blessings, my work is now done.



The Maul, a Key, and a Dream Unwinding

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This is based on a dream that I had the other day...it's not too sensible, but, then again, the dream wasn't either.



In the dream, "they" desired the "Maul of Typheous."
One girl had the key to retrieve it.
No one would confront her.

One brave man went to seek her.
Her beauty was entrancing.
This man had been in love with her for so long.

He found her and met her gaze.
She looked about frantically.
He moved closer to tell her his feelings.

No words escaped him.
She closed her eyes.
They kissed.

The key was forgotten.
The "Maul of Typheous" was forgotten.
The dream ended.


If anyone wants to bother with this one, then go ahead.
I'm still trying to decide what the heck this is...



Poet's Balcony Window

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Sitting still, I sip my coffee...
Waiting...

Daybreak is approaching, yet, I remain idle...
Watching...

I look out of my window at the city,
Loathing...

My hand is cramped from writing, blast it!
Thinking...

I stretch my legs and prepare for my fury...
Cursing...

I hate this city and its people.
They all lie and live in dreams.
Heretics and vile liars...

I denounce their fallacies.

I wish the worst to all the fools.
I pretend to care.
That's all...



Seven Dreams, Each Unwinding

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Seven Dreams, Each Unwinding



Seven times, I've dreamt of you.
Seven stories I will tell.

The first was dark and trying...
You were walking into a shadow,
Calling into blackness...

The second was a bit less blackened...
You were sitting, hands in lap,
Wondering who I am.

The third shed light on things to come...
You were thinking, smiling brightly,
Laughing to yourself.

In the fourth, something happened.
I was running into that shadow,
Searching for your face.

The fifth approached as we first met...
The shadows fell and I embraced you;
The passion soon erupted.

In this sixth dream, we were lovers...
We were quiet and thrust through love.
Nothing could be better.

In the last, the dream did shatter...
Shadows came againi, but we stood together.
They sheltered us from all.




A Rant (In Response to Mud)

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I hate you who bring your scars and tell me that they're mine.
I hate you who tear me down and slaughter my good times.
I hate you with bitter tongues who beat me to the ground.
I hate you who think that you will land without a sound.

I hate you who disregard the beauty that makes tears.
I hate you who torment hearts and shred them with the years.
I hate you with bloated heads and pockets lined with gold.
I hate you with shallow minds and zero self-control


Borrowing Ten Thousand Arrows

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Taking tones of sweetness from your dish of bitter doom...

I'm engulfed with this one dream, and you are tethered by my wish.

Anxiety in terrored times, when resting is not real...

Never ending purgatory, mass infused denial.

Laughter in my chambers, crying in my sleep.

Surprise, speed, and malice...take this (give) that you see.

Annex your first shallow wonder, breathing blessed and stolen.

Do not evolve from ridicule and silver cretin scars.
__________________
With your eyes, see this moment.
With your love, feel this pain.
With your heart, find a rhythm.
With your hands, hold the rain.

I want everyone to remember how precious life is...I didn't think too much about the future until I created it for myself...now I'm a bit more mature and have a beautiful daughter. Don't cheat yourself of a full life, surrounded by the people, things, and memories that you cherish.
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