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Rebuttals.Such beautiful blasphemy
Such coaxing condemnation
What detrimental images
Dance through my imagination
How tasteful this temptation
I'm so delightfully damned
Such a fantastic failure
Was the lion and the lamb.
How succulently sick
And excelling expectation
Was the act that signed and sealed
The prevalent promiscuity
So promisingly perfect.
The scent of skin and sweat and flesh
Such dear denunciation.
Who knew that from the soul could come
Such a pagan premonition?
That such an act is alone
The minds own emanation.
That such an act so oft' despised
Is the seed of inspiration,
That such an animalistic act
Is its own education.
And if I am despised and burn
For such an honest demonstration,
I shall grin and laugh and dance
But never offer explanation.
And if they threaten you and I
With vulgar confrontation,
I will stand beside you and
Defend our our righ
Even EdenThere was once a garden so beautiful, so pure that time itself did not dare set foot in it. The fruits were full and brightly colored, and their scents hung in the warm air with a sweet flavor that would reach out and cling to your clothes and linger on your tongue. The grass was thick and cool, with no rocks or thistles to stab at bare feet, and no insects to nibble on bared flesh. The breeze was gentle and cool, perfectly contrasted by the warm air. The sky was in a state of perpetual sunset, with the tip of the sun lingering over the western skys, casting the most exuberant shades of reds and oranges, greens and purples across it, and mixing with the moon that sat, fat and jolly on the other side, casting its alabaster glow down upon the garden.
In this garden, there lived three people. The first was a man named Eden, and he was the keeper of the garden. He over saw that the fruit grew large and sweet, and that the grass was safe and long. He kept the leaves on the trees green and t
Because Of YouThe mountains quake with uncinstrained fury
and the sky hacks its disbelieving lightning laugh
while the clouds growl low in the hills.
They spit on us,their deluge of tiny,
warm droplets that pour down around us.
Let them hate that I love you.
The demons in the fire cackle and click
as they lick out with their burning tongues
hissing their cinder-like words
and blowing this way and that,
hoping one will land upon our bare flesh.
and leave its painful mark.
Let them hate that I Love You.
The restless western wind and the cold north one
moan and whisper to one another
in astonished insult, as they wrap themselves
around our bodies and squeeze, but to no effect.
Let them hate that I Love You.
And they all plot against us to steal me away.
The lightning blinds me
while the fire tendrils grad hold of my wrists
and the wind caresses my neck head and neck,
and runs gently through my hair,
whispering for me to come away.
I do not hear them.
I do not feel them.
All I know is that you arms are
Swear NeverYou were there when I swore I never needed anyone.
When I swore there was no such thing as love.
When I swore I would never cry.
You were there when I swore they would never get to me.
That I would never care what they thought,
That I would never look back.
You were there when I swore they would never break me,
and you where there when I was proven wrong.
You where there when Never became Now,
and then you swore.
I was there when you swore you had never seen someone as perfect as me.
when you swore you would never forget me,
never leave me.
When you swore you would never let me go,
would never stop until I was happy.
And then you swore you never lied.
My MonumentI am staring at a wall.
A blank, empty, barren wall.
There are cracks in it.
The white paint is chipping.
The spray can in my hand is cool,
and it cry's rebellion.
I hold my breath and stare at this,
and wonder what to write on its
No. As soon as the word is written it becomes a lie.
No, to etch it on yet another lifeless surface would only furthur mar it's meaning.
No. For then the wall would be sure to crumble with time.
No. I need to forget it all.
I stare at this wall.
But it's not really blank, is it?
The chipped pait that leaves the
unblemished stone visible
The tiny, hopeless flower
that struggles to peak through the cracks
that crashes against this wall
Moans out "forever."
and the spiderweb cracks
that sprawl across the lonely walls face
humbly challenge, "remember."
I am staring at a wall.
The JokerI know the secret God wanted to keep,
And I laid down my hand and said, "Read 'em and weep."
Then he looked at the devil, who nodded his head,
Then looked back at me and smiled as he said
"In knowledge, my child, you win yet you loose,
You are cursed with the will to seek for the truth."
The devil leaned forward in his fit, silk black suit,
Downed a shot and said with aloof,
"He's right ya know, kid,
You're faced with a choice,
Break or bend.
Live or die.
Silence or Noise."
I shook my head, no. I did not understand,
As god stood and left, the devil folded his hands.
He stood and he circled the table and sighed,
"I like you kid, do you wanna know why?
Even here, even now, with now way to win,
You're kicking and screaming, you fight to the end.
You'd think you'd have learned that you're not always strong,
That," He sneered, "you are human,
And you Can be wrong."
And then, my dear friend, he started to laugh,
And with each sickly hiss his voice sizzled and cracked.
"Let me tell you someth
Simple Girl Complicated ProblemsI know I am not the daughter you wanted
But at least you got it right the second time
My little sister found her place in your hearts
But I feel I have never really found mine
Why would you care to listen to your first born?
When you have a fresh blank canvas to create
All of those things that you wish I could have been
Had I not developed such negative traits
But those negative traits make me who I am
And shouldn't you love me without condition?
See my stubbornness as being strong minded
And when I talk, don’t interrupt just listen
I know I am not the daughter you wanted
I scowl but I still need your loving embrace
Though you barely acknowledge my existence
Apart from to tell me what I've done wrong today
But why would you ever want to talk to me
When an argument is never far away?
It’s the tone of your voice that hurts me the most
Rather than the words that you choose to say
To think I was once a baby in your arms
With such innocent eyes I could do no wrong
In many ways I
Little BirdLittle bird,
where have you flown?
how much have you grown?
How is your broken wing?
The one that I cared for,
that I put in a sling.
do you think of me
as I do you?
Do you wonder where I've gone,
what I've gone through?
do visit me again;
you've been the only one
I've ever loved;
my only true friend.
My Personal DevilHis kiss was that of fiery coal,
A peppermint-feel upon cracked lips.
His hands had gripped my soul —
Oh, the feel of ecstasy!
His eyes obtained the celestial sky
And were like the chilly arctic breeze.
There was no chance that I could deny
Such lively things…
His alabaster skin was so gentle, so smooth,
Mocking a similarity of mine as I awake at sunrise.
His touch had a way to soothe
The scorches upon my body…
My personal devil’s love was euphoria;
He had wrapped me in his hellish ways.
My body had been eaten away by chorea.
Yet, I crave his blaze.
Ignite me in the love you share!
Burn me with your singeing lips.
Show me how much you care!
Then drown me in your flickering flames.
His heated hands were placed upon my face.
His snakes spiraling up my legs.
Our lips were near a kiss, which he did not place,
And, instead, withdrew himself.
His deadly presence, his own personal darkness,
Was brightened by the sun.
I slowly awoke in emptiness
And lost my personal d
PerfectionWhat is perfection and what is not?
Does anybody know that besides god?
Is someone out there who can tell me?
Or do I have to do die and ask god, maybe?
Question over question flying through my brain.
If I don’t find perfection, will my life be in vain?
Everyone had flaws and makes mistakes.
Maybe I have to lower the stakes.
I’m looking for one, just one perfect thing only.
But as time goes by even I get lonely.
Cold and empty, but beating is my heart.
I want perfection, even if it’s just a shard!
Moving on as the time passes me by.
No perfection, no matter how far I fly.
Each and every place, no perfection there.
Can humans be perfect and worlds rightful heir?
Now I am standing close to the edge, full of fear.
Suddenly it comes to me, I smile and see it clear.
No matter how and where you grow up, you are perfection.
Because you are only you and not someones copy or reflection.
No AirI never expected to love you.
I never expected to care.
I never thought you would be on my mind.
I never noticed if you were there.
I don't know when it started,
But I hope it never ends.
The way I feel with you tonight
Is more than I can comprehend.
And when you talk
about things that I don't know
I lose my mind a little.
But I love the way you glow
I can't help the butterflies
I can't concentrate when I'm with you
The truth is -- if I'm honest --
Sometimes I want to kiss you.
So maybe it's no secret,
And maybe you don't care,
But when I see you my heart beats fast
And suddenly there is no air.
ParasiteWhen the day turns into night,
it begins, the everyday fight.
They begin to talk in my head.
If anybody found out they would tell me I’m mad.
I don’t know if the one who thinks is me.
Can’t these voices just let me be?
Speaking and confusing my thoughts.
For me these things are only frauds.
What if the things that I think are not mine?
Should I just lay here and whine?
I think they corrupted my soul.
No, maybe even my body as a whole.
This is the side of me that I have never shown.
At times like these it is dangerous to be alone.
My head feels like it’s blown off with dynamite.
I don’t know, maybe my brain is occupied by a parasite.
DescendSomething dark and something cold
like iron gripped my soul
and in the chains I was shackled
Two halves, once a whole.
Grim and cruel was the dungeon
that was created by my mind
in which love and loss battled
but remained intertwined.
And in the end it was clear
that love could never win
that loss presides over all
my dark dungeon, wherein.
But in the final moments
of their battle in my head
love took leave and descended
to reside in my heart instead.
Peace is a lieHello there, why don’t we take a walk?
While we take a walk, I would really like to talk.
Did you ever asked yourself what is wrong with this world?
Why people are so screwed up in the head and their thoughts are twirled?
It is no secret that the world is at war.
And falling down are the masks that they wore.
Something in their heads seems to be broken.
Humanity is a monster and it has been woken.
When you think about it everything is a lie.
The only question you will have is: why?
Everyone is hoping for the big release.
But don’t be stupid, there is no peace.
Wind GrownQuiet grown
With green and ground
The ash and sound
Until the green has 'nother play
A wat'ry stream
Down with a tide
Across the beam
The first to know the last of one
Breath of space
Carved by your arm
A heady place
Awaits no harm
Because no eyes will watch or plea
Wind is wrapt
Around you braced
By time that kept
You wings misplaced
One cannot fly where wearies went
Height and breadth
Come with the stars
While nourished wealth
From flanks and far
The form is kept but not the brain
Stones will crack
Under your weight
Streams run black
The light you take
Unknown on high there's but your will
The path you made
Will flood and break
No more remained
Your flanks are slaked
Come back when you are broke and burned
Now hole refilled
Where life was held
The ash was forged
Until the wind the self will stay
The world is broken.
The incessant wind,
The pelting deluge,
The cresting wave,
And with it
The music is drowned.
The world is broken.
The tired tongue,
The fearful bird,
The passionate heart,
And with it
The music dies.
The world is broken.
The trusted promise,
The giver of love,
The salty tear,
And with it
The music quakes.
The world is broken.
The faithless heart,
The poet's mind,
The pen on the paper,
And with it
The silence is no longer.
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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