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Older Than Babylon
I sat there, at the edge of the peak of the growing mountain,
seeking the patience I had always lacked.
My dreams were older than Babylon,
Yet in the time that is now, I age.
I had walked the dashed line unaware of where it may lead.
Even it knew not the future with each added dash.
The naivety I know, cannot be undone, for where lies the knowledge I unknowingly seek out?
The tangent of my life's journey, irrelevant to the road once laid before my soul.
It is in the sleepless nights that my dreams find me most maliciously...
interrogating me as to my lack of persistence and pursuit.
And in my screams of the loss of sanity,
shot out the words of accusation to that accursed dashed line.
For it had found it's end here at the edge of the peak of my growing mountain.
It grew into the abyss of a night sky, and ominous was my anticipation.
The stars that as a child I had wished upon were closer than ever,
and they burned bright with suspicion.
Only Time Will Tell
Only time will tell the stories which believe.
The marks of the bottom line are where fate deceive.
The script written as a preemptive strike,
Never read over, improve prevents the rewrite.
Where is she with her smile t light the way through this maze?
Back home, going through her own, counting the days.
With Him above and he below,
My fear to every stepping stone I do bestow.
Only time will tell the stories that I believe!
Only within this fallacy does faith in me not leave.
I beg, I beseech, I plead, I pray for my endless prayer to be heard.
Lest apathy overtakes me without a care...without a word.
The marks on the bottom line are where fate deceive...
So only time will tell me the stories which I believe.
The Subconscious Strive
Challenge this opposition before you,
as the very Kingdom of Heaven is at your back.
What know you of the sight of victory,
should you not even attempt to seek it out?
Pull your head out and swallow the sand.
kick up the dust beneath the liquid layer,
swim against the tide, ascend and ride the wind,
Journey only forward, beyond the grasp of defeat.
Take us beyond the firefight,
to the brittle outskirts,
upon the horizon,
where lies our origin.
Within memory is our future,
where made easy
is the heavier weight of the burden.
Plant the seeds for the new battlefield.
Make it our own, by conquer, by incline.
Push forward through the storm,
the floods that make the seed grow,
as there is no progression without conflict.
Deep in the Heart of Me
The only time I'll ever lie is when I say I've lied before.
The only time I'll ever cheat is when it's at our own little games.
The only time I'll ever hate something to do with you is at the times that I can't see or be with you.
Even in death, I'd never leave your side,
just like in life where we've been inseparable.
No words nor acts will hold off our hearts, never on my watch.
The only time I'll ever leave is when you tell me go away,
The only time I'll ever cry is when our connection shares the tears,
The only time I'll ever walk away is when it's to bring you back a bigger heart of mine.
This horizon you've brought to my eyes is unlike I've ever seen.
Such a light to brighten up my path once dark
where I was lost and here hand in hand I've been found.
The only time I'll ever grow tired is when you've been in pain for far too long.
The only time I'll ever worry is when I cannot do a thing.
The only time I'll ever grow old is when I'm not with you.
No rhyme, no reason, but plenty t
The End of the Tunnel
Should I awaken from this nightmare,
A smile would find me.
Lonesome is my winter,
Cold with no heat to spare.
My realm dispairs in the freezing wind,
And I am without shelter in my journey.
Until my eyes open to the sun,
Until my feet meet a warm grass.
The light at the end of the tunnel
Is nothing more than a painting
A Stubborn Faith and Warped Insomnia
I can watch the sun rise,and a weeping moon fall.
Not caring in the slightest with passing seconds
in and out of the narrow span of my damaged attention.
Mine are the eyes that will close but hardly sleep
with my dreams whilst they are so abusive in their relationship.
My dreams are awake and warped, and I shall die and die again.
Why is it that I care so little, that apathy replaces
the voids of open wounds? These are but leeches on my Light,
as I become lost with Virgil and Dante.
Hunger sets in from a skipped feast, past an ignored sleep cycle.
A fable becomes my story to be a lesson learned to children
of a lesser future where apathy is the life blood of the world.
Here I will watch with reluctance, the falling moon and rising sun,
night after night, alone with my Light until
one day some day, I live again and again.
Drawing Blank Pages in the Script
Patience drowns in the blank spots
Where the answers should lie.
The humid tide breaks over his brow,
His eyes shut and lock.
The crows feet perch just outside,
On the rim of the now overflowing wells.
The violent tremble echoes in his heart,
Seizing the moment of thoughtful entanglement.
Never a single thought at one time
to hold the spotlight in mind.
War waged, the clarity comes and goes,
In a tortured mind of without peace.
The echoes grow louder with resistant acts,
And the violent tremble becomes the explosive outburst.
The shame is born into a temporary
Yet prolonged existence, until its end.
The cycle comes back full circle...
And the blanks are once again without answers.
The Madman and His Cellmate
With common tongue out of habitual
rocking back and forth,
In where dark corners become home,
dwell partners in unintentional crime.
Grasping at bottles with the trembling hands
wearing the cloak of cold sweat,
swallowing safety blankets and strain the cords
of rosaries with fists deep in prayer.
Is one longing of endings in sunsets to see self-smothering
as the only alternative route? Desires sprint along the
line between lunacy and resting forever,
Say what you will, I died here in this padded room.
Here I rot in dim light and cold darkness,
where you are my only company,
I know not whether to welcome or curse you.
My attention is more kept on keeping warmth
in my withering veins as the cold takes hostage,
my heart and mind. Speak with me friend,
my thoughts are lonely.
They eye one another like cannibals deserted
in the dead of winter. Only glimpses and moments is
their intellect aimed at
the light piercing the dark.
There is not but silence in your responses...
The Book of Prophecies: The Pagan
His desires shall be those of a Higher influence.
His methods, unprecedented.
He shall bring about the demise of humans,
and the body count shall be of a great multitude.
His deeds shall bring to him,
the attention of the greatest Nephilim, Death.
He shall be feared, and undoubted in his ability.
His reasons are of Faith and vengeance...
Though his faith lies not in God,
But in the servants of such...
Decieved was he in his original conquest.
Forever scarred is his soul.
The Pagan is he,
a mercenary to both Angel and Demon...
Glimpse of FaithI have battled through enough tomorrows
Without any reassurance that matters would get better.
I have walked in the ashes of the deceased
In all of the yesterdays that I have no remembrance of.
I have hoped when darkness was the answer;
When life had given up on me like today.
I have loved when I have lost
Like the repetitive years that kill me daily.
I have given up and made a bloody mess of myself
As a light of faith had finally been seen.
I have continued to live even when Death was behind me,
For I saw a glimpse of my deepest wish be true.
…a hint of happiness is all I ask for…
… but not just for me…
… for others that have seen enough deadly tomorrows…
… give them that glimpse of faith that tomorrow will soon be the past
and it will be a faded story inside a dusty book…
because no one told me it would be
EdenSaid God, despite perfection found in Three:
"Let there be another in this place,
And let him reflect glory back to me."
"Tis naught but a reflection of my face;
Mankind shall rule a garden, bear a name.
So let there be another in this place."
Trees bear fruit and helpers bear the blame--
Serpents striking heels will be retried.
Man has ruled a garden, borne a name.
Reflecting former glory mankind cried;
His failing cast a shadow on such love.
Serpents striking heels will be retried.
Oh man who stands as icon, not enough;
Still one more will come to stand as king.
Man's failing cast a shadow on such love.
Victory will come, the garden sings.
Said God, despite perfection found in Three:
"Still one more will come to stand as King,
And let him reflect glory back to me."
*Emotions*Emotions stirring in the wind
Held tight by love's own arms
Swept off firm feet, carried away
Heart beat raised love's own alarm.
Love and life, so far so good
Gales, storms all withstood
Elemental fury faced together
Love that's true lasts forever.
Angel TearsImagine a raindrop is an angel's tear
Falling from heaven on Gaia's mortal fear
Weeping in unity their children's lost soul
Heaven's pure spirit evil now doth control
Eden of rapture consumed by time's flow
A lost utopia where gluttony doth grow.
Alluring serpent's lair humans covet the bait
Devourer of truth so poisoned with hate
Innocence now lost in maelstrom of desire
Purity long blackened by greed's hungry fire
The spirit debased evil darkens the heart
The nefarious abductor tears the soul apart
The moment approaches the farmer shall reap
Love now eternal for faithful lost sheep
Gnashing of teeth those left in despair
Time now elapsed for repentance and prayer
Renounce the darkness and take gentle heed
Embrace the truth be the Lamb's seed
If I Were The Devil...What would I do if I were the devil?
Well, where do I start?
I would share humans' depraved thoughts openly
And trick them by calling it "art"
I would corrupt the music industry
So it pours out words so vile
On movie screens I'd recite perverted jokes
And make their minds so numb, they'll smile
I'd infect the internet with my work
That abolishes what's pure and leaves them awed
I'd have them blame their creation on science alone
And make them scoff at the name of God
These things will become everyday life
And evil will no longer be bizarre
Basically I guess, if I were the devil
I would leave things exactly as they are
Father GodI created people to need and love one another. That never changed, even when sin entered into the world. Yet in spite of my desire for loving harmony, families often make a mess of their relationship.
I warned David that his sin would cause problems within his family. Ultimately, after simmering and planning for two years, one of David's son killed the other in vengeance for their sister. If only they had sought me in the process...I love to help families secure and strengthen their bonds.
I believe in family. I believe in family so much that I'm building an eternal home for mine. Meanwhile, I'm right here in the midst of your earthly family-and my heart's desire is to help you come together in peace and mutual love. Just call on me for guidance. After all, I'm a Father. I want to help my children.
Stockholm's DollI'm so superficial and vain,
I glisten like plastic in the rain,
I tic and toc,
Just like a clock,
I move were you say,
So I am not in the way,
Orders move my gears,
You take away my fears,
When they look they see your doll,
There's no real me left at all,
I was broken a long time ago,
Stuffed in a box six feet below,
Beneath your harsh words and harsher fists,
Days tied up with rope burned wrists,
Nights I'd cry myself to sleep,
Now I obey without a peep,
I'm so perfect and vain,
My eyes glisten without the rain.
Gentle CannibalWithout a breeze to soothe my body,
or salvage a mind
from the dripping tide of cicadas,
the midnight of summer begins to
lift its mantle from where you crouch,
and comes to honor me.
My gentle cannibal,
with eyes of hemorrhaging iris,
the jaundice of your nakedness,
translucent from the moon rings
your lips pulled as if in pain.
The fever of your touch traces
every rung of dappled trellis
from the faux shadings of a lunar day.
Give me my sweet plunder of ripe figs
as you bend me like a bow that will snap,
or have you already bitten me to the bone.
Can I Place My FaithCan I place my faith,
in this chair when I sit?
Can I place my faith,
and relax in it?
Can I trust in the sun?
Can I trust in the moon?
Can I depend on daylight to shine?
Can I trust the moon to glow?
If I go to the stop at the corner,
will the bus eventually come?
If I go to the bank,
will my money still be there?
Will the grocery store always be full?
Will Wal-Mart’s prices always be low?
Can I have faith in nature?
Can I put any trust in the world?
If people make a promise,
can I rely on them to keep their word?
I put faith in nature and the world.
I trust people at their word.
I put my faith in things from the world.
What about the One in heaven?
Can I have faith in God above?
Can I trust in His love?
Can I depend on the Lord of hosts?
Can I believe He is close?
Can I go to church and trust in Him?
Can I trust He’ll hear, even when my voice is thin?
Can I believe God is there?
Can I trust He heard my prayer?
Do I believe God rises the sun?
Is He there when I am
2. Battery Low
Where else is there to turn,
When your own blood and flesh
are against you?
In the time when one must learn
to grow from being just another
pawn to just another cog.
In an existence of corrupted control,
where each monkey is too
often a slave to another.
Grown and flowing with
a virus of such hate,
the heated emotion has spread
over like the flames within itself.
The waves have come and gone
in this hellish marathon,
over turning almost every effort of advance.
So where else to turn
other than to the bones
that carry the burden of this virus?
How pitiful that the wingless apes
turn on one another rather
than relying on each other.
The foundation, covered like an
inside out tree trunk,
bearing the rings of weary age,
made thin for a coming layer of time.
This pathetic life laid out
across a once perfect foundation,
cut down, cracked and eroded.
Held up with shaky hands
and weak knees by
the exhausted machine,
It's screams are mute through
the blotted out voices of the people,
The very c
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More