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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...
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.
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
The Journey of a Thousand Miles
"Lead us on to insomnia's end, Where solitude awaits our weary hearts.
The sustenance required to our souls lies
there in the arms of patience.
Assist us in our wake as prayer affects not our tired limbs upon this journey. These two of your flock die not, as time heals, yet the end of this is welcome. We beg of thee, calling out to the silence into
to which our faith is placed.
The path is dark with black fog of this nocturnal threat. Bring to us, light. As it is now that our dreams are what wither with time, even as they heal. Our exhaustion is only diverted for a short time
by the bond between us.
Pray we that our cries are heard, echoing through the confines to Heaven.
Let not a limit come from malicious source,
to this our angelic breed of passion."
"Right is my love as he suffers my pain by connection, yet where we go, we go together.
Though distance dwindles the pleasure,
the connection has only become longer.
Much I have to say before our Lord in regards to these two hea
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 efforts.
Once upon a time, in the dream come true through which I slept,
did a fairy tale once existů
that tale of my tale through endless times of a dream come true
and gone by in the era that I once lived and favored.
Fight or Flight In the Presence of Logic.
Find your common ground of shedding blood
In the far lands of Else Where,
For here is not the place where bodies should
Fall just short of their own sweat and tears.
It is fear that is the beast you so portray,
And an agenda so immorally laced with false teachings.
Here lies the home, once ancient and grown,
Now rubble in the growing pile
Of humanities excrement.
Its epitaph shall read nothing,
For no words can be written
by the lack of knowledge per this land....
Look your land in its dying eyes,
Listen to its final breaths...
The billowing sands that blow
Erosion into its elderly face.
make your way to the place in which you slumber,
And allow your mind to bestow upon you
Nightmares that bring you to regret your chosen ways of sin,
and method of self-destruction.
Taken by so full of self,
The rotten husk now lies
Half buried in a partially cremated state...
Still a home for its dying cells
The soon to be carcass,
Awaiting the bills of hovering vultures
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 to cower, from the ever impending doom.
Two clocks tick, one my own and the other my fate.
The flood arrives to consume
and to the end does the time die and go black...
Open my eyes to the dark if night
An abyss before me to lay back down...
down where the floodgates come unhinged
and my imagination lies.
The Dying Heart of Beating Drums
I can still hear your voice...
A part of me dies. My voice is paralyzed in
its search for right words. Caught and bound by anger and
love as they fight over what's to be said...
If anything at all...never has misery run so violently
through strained veins by a dying heart...
so powerful is the lonesome pulse in my final breaths.
I long to embrace either you or Death.
Why did you lay down your arms at the peak of the war?
Why did you surrender whilst our enemies bled?
While our dreams were weeks away,
while you still had me at your side?
Never did you care it seems...perhaps at a time when you
were cold like I...once warm I was
without use to you any longer...
I was but a temporary flattery during your ascension.
The care you held onto was pity. If not,
should I even bother to challenge such a theory?
Need I question the actions of the confused
and broken half of heart? My mind? My soul?
If ever you cared, you would know me by my words...
if ever you cared you would never
bear lies in y
The Queen and The Fading Storm
Loosen the sickly grip of the false reality,
where broken promises grow abundant in ash laced fields.
The ashes of chances gone by.
Disgusting is but a single title in the series I could bestow to you.
Our relatives of the jungle, living in filth and cannibalism,
Do fine compared to the beast with countless faces I know by your name.
A game long ended by the pawn now a queen,
the master of her own free will,
shattered many times by rules created as gone along.
You disgrace all, dragging your self-proclaimed
passions down to the hole you've been digging, where the sulfur levels have only
risen with all motions of the rusted shovel...
it is only by miracle that you breathe like the rest of us...
The obliteration of illusions and conquering of the ash
laced fields has remade that queen out of
the broken down state of mind and being.
How pathetic that you should be called out by one you've endlessly judged,
and another that you've only used and taken for granted.
Flesh & blood should only
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
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
Honor Your FallenOne for the man who answered the call.
One for the brother taken too soon.
One for the man who gave his all.
One for hearts made heavy and sad.
One for families torn apart
One for a boy now without his dad.
One for the endless tears,
One for the new struggles.
One for so many lost years.
One for the mother's only son,
One for the memories;
One more, one more until this war is won.
One for the brother coming home under his Nation's flag,
One for the ultimate sacrifice,
One for the man in the body bag.
One for the love of the fight,
One for family born not of blood.
One for that final flight.
One for the free.
One for you
Until it's just me.
A final salute for those who no longer hurt,
For the boys who paid the ultimate price;
Twenty one guns for my family in the dirt.
Thou Shall BurnClench my soul, go right ahead; ignite your flesh and I shall deem you dead.
Dance with fire and thou shalt be burned, scorched to deformity with your soul never returned.
Exceed your limits, turn away your falls, shall the trials begin beneath the walls?
Oh yes they shall my dearest thing, for your fate will rest within this ebony ring.
Such glory was enthralled into my soul, how you plead for its power, its superiority, its toll.
Though alas you've proven not worthy of it all, hence your death shall be remarkable, forever now you shall fall.
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.
Oh AmericaReturn, Oh America, to the Lord God of Hosts
For your dark hearts became your downfall
Take words of remorse and return to the Lord
And say to Him,
“Forgive the sins of our hearts and receive us graciously
That we may offer the fruit of our words
The government cannot save us
We will no longer wage war
We will never again rise up as if we were gods
For in you those who are fatherless find compassion.”
He will hear your cry and reach out to you
His iron rod will spare you his wrath and turn to a silk blanket
The Lord will wrap you in his arms like a compassionate Father
And He will say,
“I will heal your waywardness and love you freely
For now my anger has turned away from you
I will be like the morning dew to America
She will grow and her splendor will once again be as an oak tree
And her fragrance as the California Redwoods
Those who walk in darkness will again rise
They will blossom like fragrant roses
Their bright light will shine forth and be renowned.
The Ravens of ValhallaO’er desolate shores wept the fate of immortal flames
And into a Winter sun I bleed my dreams,
as a thousand years of love & war dressed the sky
Long-ships sailed to the otherworld upon Odin’s breath
Betwixt night and day I wandered, shimmering, peering
— Till my chalice of Dragons blood flowed but no more
I became a warrior lost in the stars, drifting, ever falling,
Until the shadows entombed my soul in Raven-lore
Lo the tempest eerie; ‘magick entwining spirit and flesh
Upon snow I awoke dreary, beneath winged-silhouettes
‘Couldst be, my Princess adored; — last of the Valkyrie!
I recall — myriad of black feathers in leisured-dance,
And our love soared ravenous unto darkness befallen
From the frosts of creation I wrought gloom and desire,
Bore the tongue of fevered winds thru oceans of time
Here thy whispers feasting, I linger, clad in mists of fire
O’ we have lived, in the arms of shadow and vapors
We have sung, in fields of night
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.
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More