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Free Spirit Fail Safe
Unhinged, the floodgates collapse
The waters weighed so heavily on them that in the dark of night
do they unwillingly liberate the transparent stillborn
unto the dry soil once adjacent to the gates.
Two clocks tick, their gears turning at the uneven tempo
Unwound, rusting to a screeching halt on the command of the flood.
Time stops at the hinder, And neutrality dies on impact.
What a sight as I close my eyes,
Late at night when energy dies.
Taken to flight my psyche then flies.
Do as one might, the cold sweat brings about my cries.
Fighting my fight, in where my imagination lies
The withered flowers ashen and in bloom
Be my soul
The Changing Tide
The era is now passed through which I lived and favored,
and my patience then packs its bags for hiatus,
with which to remind me that perhaps
brighter days lie in sunny hammocks ahead.
Here and alas lays the road to that sunny setting,
upon which I walk and tread the changing tide.
The next item on the list of Fates agenda and her passionate affair with time...
the seconds will carry on like the beats of my undying heart.
The fire that burns in my eyes, through which I see is only assuaged
by the tears they produce...
the tears I produce in my longing for some peace of some sort.
Yet those tears shall only accompany the sweat of my
Hear them, those voices in mind.
Heed them, those ideas they speak
I have felt the hands of those voices, in the wake of my choices.
I have heard them laughing at me in my shambled mind.
Those voices are not mine,
Nor were they ever...
I was not born with them,
But they came to me in weakness.
Attracted to the scent of my flawed being,
the aura of my imperfection.
The voices of, my rotten conscious,
Overtaken by shame and regret.
I have heard them screaming
at me in my shackled mind...
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,
To the Borders of Cynicism
Mindful of the outcomes,
Truth be told, I've been so bold
As to say the things I've never meant...
A thought process that takes a constant inside look
to the outlines of the underlying facts,
That all else seems to avoid.
Better left alone the curiosities that I so pursue,
bending balance against what
little will it's been given.
These borders provide such a limitless amount
of what I am not to ever know,
like severing the tight rope that holds all of this together.
As if arrogance is what drives me away from naivety,
pride away from ignorance and
deeply into a much darker realm of fear.
The point of know return, deep in a cold h
My dreams, no matter how vivid,
Dissipate as that second arrives,
That my eyes are opened.
At my wake, do dreams die,
Die and bury themselves,
Beneath the goals they form.
No control is had over me,
Merely influence is it,
That encompasses my soul.
And there at the muddy,
bloody feet beneath my aching legs,
Is the starting line of efforts drawn.
Here is where the beginning is that
which leads never to an end,
as my soul, in all its toils, shall ever be loyal.
What is faith, aside from assuming,
Presuming my future and fate
are unpredictable to say the least.
Lead on, by the dashed line in my road.
Though my wake is where dreams d
The Martyr and The Great Blue Sky
He stood out amongst the crowd...His skin bared the marks of torture and abuse...yet his eyes were void of apathy. His voice raised itself like a blade on the battlefield, or a gun to the draw.
"Make your threats worth my while," he said, "lest you stick to the cowardly sniper on your tongues of burdensome intolerance!" What reason he had! And purpose beat through his heart and out through his voice! "As we are merely the left hand of God, and we shall fear evil of no breed!" He feared not a physical death as his integrity armored his very soul, just as his faith guided his once mislead hand now wielding the very word of God. By no means wa
The Mask Of Arrogance
Making your silly world up as you go along
Keep on in this trek on the chosen path,
And increase my hopes of your self-defeat.
Let the pressure of my truth
crush you beneath its weight.
The Devil's indignation is strong
in the midst of one such as your name.
Please and never believe yourself
a contribution to the future's good
When yours is an age old sort of pestilence
To which my efforts contribute to killing
I envision what truth lies rotted behind your pitiful mask
That image is ever burned in my mind,
like the bridges between us.
What method of humility do you prefer,
Of such a decimation to the mind of a fool.
Genre, Oh Genre
Shame befalls me, for what the muses inspire.
Is such the magnet of my psyche? Such dreadful words from pen to paper?
I question not my sanity, only the purposes for which
such written things flow from me, as to what message is to be sent...
Though dedication fills me to the brink, so does a constant curiosity...
overflowing to the shores of embarrassment.
Shame befalls me, but I write as a messenger, and my muses come from Above,
where even dreaded words are sometimes called for.
I Can Make You Cry
My heart sank at the sound of the first shot,
Falling deep into black of this abysmal state of mind.
My thoughts rushed in a panic,
Knowing only anarchy the beat of my heart.
I collapsed in a stairwell,
falling upon jagged right angles.
Weeping out of my pointless efforts,
Broken down along the road to saving her.
Shouts came like the voices of ghosts from the 13th floor,
Echoing through a haunting resonation.
Silence became a blanket over my shoulders,
The ghosts and my weeping became mute.
I was to be alone there on,
With her as but a memory,
A dream to bring me smiles,
A nightmare to make me reminisce.
I feared for the future of our c
5. The End is No End
Never had I beheld such a morbid sight,
Even after all that had penetrated my vision,
And pierced the very innocence of my soul.
Before stood the arisen Gates of Hades,
And but a few steps was I from the source of opposition.
My knees then met the soil and ash that laid below me.
The eyes that had before surrounded me,
Came to once more encircle me…
I knew not the reason, nor did my curiosity overcome my fear.
The drums of my ears felt nothing but a deafening ring,
And every hair arose on the flesh of my arm in alarm.
A familiar presence came from behind me.
I turned my eyes to the Hooded Figure that had bestowed upon
With Wolves as Shepherds
Ill nevermore, the dead or dying wastelands,
Unsure because of the constant winds.
All too different, all too alike the religions.
All too pointless, all too meaningful the tensions.
The civil ferocity of the self-proclaimed diplomacy,
Beats to a pulp, the face of democracy.
Ill nevermore, the undead carcass of logic crawling back to the folded arms of reason,
To each our own, the sugar coated denial of each and every season.
God revive this, that, these morals once found relevant,
To a history now seen a fairytale, ever halting development.
They seek to deeply reroute the roots of history, shooting point blank, the very sources of hope.
Soundless Screams.And he sank in the sea of plausible words;
only the anchor of mistrust holding him bound.
Holding on, he cursed gods and promised lords,
what'd happen had it been the other way around?
Bitten lips and slumping eyelids haunt his mind;
or what remains after the utter devastation.
Sanity and eternal aberration have entwined
in order to give birth to merciless frustration.
Can Earth be suffocatingly boundless?
If so, then he can be free.
Can screams be loudly soundless?
It seems that his can be.
Not Up for ThatI wanna be a Misses
Not a mistress
I don't wanna be a secret
you gotta keep it
rollin' around town
with our heads down
I have too much dignity
self respect and self esteem
I gotta see some action
If you want to be with me
you better first leave
Cause I can sure see
The way you treat her is the way you'll treat me
and I am not that girl
that you don't have time for
I'm better than that
Don't have time for crap
I'm on a mission
Not hittin and quitin
A real reaction
a search for passion
Drivin around town with my chin up
got a full cup
Not looking in the mirror
vision's never been clearer
and I don't need you
to feel true
The Unconditional Oath and Vow
"The speechlessness grows at this loss of words, Like some hook on the tip of my tongue, holding it back. Anxiety becomes the presence in wells of my gut, And my heart becomes the drums of my anatomical orchestra...Beating away like a percussional army. I deserve nothing of you, but grace had found me in where near my lowest Hell lied. You, the blessing embodied, took me under your angelic wings and embraced my pitiful existence...Just a kiss soothes that chaotic orchestra...to have and to hold was the purpose of His blessing, Ridding me of this anxious gut of mine."
She stared back with growing tears in her eyes, those windows to Heav
When It Rains, It Pours
The means to an end,
Such I forever feared,
Have feared, shall fear.
My dreams became reality,
Why not my darkest nightmares?
Such a dreaded hypothesis...
What is it do I truly deserve?
Have I not been the fool
in every realm my soul has wandered?
My thoughts like raving cannibals
feast upon my lost mind,
having at the lost confusion and panic.
The days of optimism through my own
perspective are hereby numbered
by my steps to the edge.
And when that accursed edge should find me,
I will know not,
to look down or simply jump.
They Never Saw Me Going
It was but a moment that floodgates swung ajar.
But a seconds worth of
salty water was realized
onto a desert plain.
A humid breeze blew through the bronchi,
filling the forest with
a hint of exasperation...
it was brief lifespan before
silence fell like the head hung low.
A last gasp of energy flew through a lonely
limb to a metal object
upon a coffee table...
It was but a moment that
the bullet tasted so kind...
but a moment that a short
lifespan was cut all the shorter.
The Man in my Eyes
My flight is uncontrollable
beneath the heavy waves...
And when the sand of the
shores finds my unconscious body
I awaken, and my eyes
are named dazed and confused.
The waves tug and push,
and they sound like muffled screams.
Sand is caught in the mysterious
and open wounds the ocean gave me.
The trees sway almost with
the wind in a breeze of anarchy.
My heart races faster
than the tugging waves...
The pieces of my ship are
scattered along this shore.
Broken like pride, useless
pieces of trees long dead.
A twitch becomes a movement
within my limbs and I rise.
Yet I only descend back to
the rugged sheets of sand.
Begin to Begin to Become
Perched way up high,
A starved vulture watches me grow
restless beneath a blanket darkness...
A fever grows, tearing away from the inside out.
A cancer becomes my surrounding.
No sense can ever be made of it.
A gasping wind hurls a sharpened wave over me,
jabbing at my withered being,
washing me with a cold grasp.
The vulture, of feather and bone,
watches the seasoning of its future food,
screaming in the agony, I am made into nothing but a carcass.
beneath the iron hand of a broken home,
the vulture is given the go ahead,
and swoops down with an eager gravity.
Perched way up high, I watch with smiles
as the vulture picks away
That the dove gathers twigs for it's nest, in which to live as a home, in peace...While the vulture searches for corpses, with which to satisfy it's gluttony.... Scavengers both, living & dying by the laws of a bitter nature.
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
By Hatred My Ode
The largest thorn of the thicket comes constant to my side...
My attempts to remove have only placed in through my hand.
My prayers are weakened as I am bound by pain.
By hatred my ode to you, is but a psalm to them all...
All whom can relate...all whom can hate.
Find me, my grace! Lest you hide from my dark passenger,
The horned monkey on my back...
Be it that my words climb and crawl from dark crevices
They come only to be held at bay.
My words howl for action.
Yet my threats are empty until I fulfill them.
It is the although and now that make them into promises.
Come close so I may place one of your thorns in your brittle vein
Brain WaspsBrain Wasps
I am on the verge of tears. Why is this so hard? I think furiously, twirling the cylinder of Chapstick around in my fingers. I shut my eyes tight and try again.
I reach out to set the Chapstick on the nightstand beside my bed, but seconds after I release the tube I have to grab it again. Wrong, the brain wasps tell me, you have to get it just right.
I briefly consider hurling the thing across the room, but I know that I’ll just have to get out of bed to pick it up again. I am trapped in my own compulsions.
I know it’s stupid, and that’s part of what’s bothering me so much. Why can’t I just p
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`ChewedKandi has certainly gone out of her way to keep the vector community on the right path. Always making sure that her talents are infinitely scalable, Sharon has put her bezier curves to excellent use, and firmly anchored herself as an inspirational leader. We're absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for June 2013 to `ChewedKandi. Congratulations, Sharon! Read More