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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
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.
Beneath noses and behind backs
Sneaks a goat with a rusty blade.
An abomination, a diamond in time long gone,
gone like innocence he so stole in the first days.
He wears shadows like skin, taken from sin at the source,
like peelings from a rotten apple,
wearing the mind of a patient fiend in any era,
plotting without end.
Bitterness sits, red and untreated in the drivers seat,
stomping whatever pedal it can find as ideas jump out
in front of the oversized vehicle
of pride and compensation.
Though far from thrones of omnipotence,
the veins course like rivers full of sulfur and sandpaper,
grinding evermore against the insides
of an inevitable nature.
Look down! Oh Faithful, look down to
the brimstone and fire!
They reveal themselves in useless shadows
with their own haste and reason. They burn now and ever with envy.
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
Damnation is near to me it seems...
the heat of Hell, grows in a sweat on my brow.
I close my eyes, only to hear my chains
sing the song of my enslavement.
The motions that through I go,
Know me by the long face, And baggy eyes.
The walk to my Father, through a cold and endless storm,
rusting over the iron of my chains.
I fill the cup that in hand I carry, with the constant down pour,
quenching what thirst I can, only to carry on.
Only in the dark of the storm do I weep so that the tears will blend with the rain,
and the sniffing is blended by my shuffling feet.
The walk home in the rain, The dragging of my feet,
enslaved by their own motions...I am set up to be tested.
I don't even recall when the sun was consumed by this storm,
I have walked for as long as I can remember....
Good God, my Lord, my King so kind! Is this path where men do perish,
the path on which my chains are dragged?!
I mean no blasphemy to a pair of all hearing ears,
but I can only do so much to make hidden my obvio
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.
2. Maze Upon The Mountain
Around my throat pulled the rugged noose,
tighter with every upward movement...
Though beheld I chains of gold as a harness,
inching me along the way up.
I scaled the mountain of my own,
whilst I tread in its vertical labyrinth...
To my back, a mirror follows my every move,
the constant reminder of every falter.
From above comes down an ever flowing stream,
washing clean from me the blood, sweat, and tears.
Such is the waters of life that I chose to follow,
as the overflow my thirst and tired limbs.
At my feet, the heat of a million fires,
giving rise to the sulfuric smell of Rock Bottom...
Where from and down the rugged noose yanks.
Burning to a cinder, my forest once dark.
The rope tugs with a playful tease
and with my every breath do I hear the laughing pullers...
Still do I carry on, seemingly towards hopelessness,
where Death is all that my eyes can see.
The chains are what nudge me on,
carrying me upon all paths which lead me Home.
Assisting my ascension, onward to my a
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...
I met a man today...
his eyes were tired,
and he seemed lost.
How I wanted to help him,
How his eyes stared off into space,
How his affliction shouted to me...
He spoke out, and the words tore at me,
and as he spoke, so we began,
repeating his words, of the why & how.
Our eyes met, and silence became us.
my heart pounded, as he breathed heavily,
tears fell...out of anger...out of fear...
I met a man today,
his voice was low and solemn...
this man in the mirror.
You Are.You are the only constant thing
In a world that's ever changing
You burn like fire
You wash like water
You see what no one else can
The secret thoughts that hide away
In the darkest pits of my mind
Every wicked action and thought
All lie naked before
You see me in all my brokenness
Yet you still love me
With a relentless passion I will never understand
When you look at me you don't see my failures or shortcomings
You see me as lovely
Your precious treasure
You took my pain and sorrows
And put them all upon yourself
You are my Savior,
That is why when Moses asked who you are
You simply said "I AM"
Because you are everything that I need you to be
It's as simple as that
The Road Ahead (Poem)
These tears from my eyes have never fallen in vain
They're a sign that in me, your kingdom still reigns
That you're still working in the depths of my heart
Embedding that fear that sets us apart
That fear that brings us to do the right thing
That fear that motivates us to glorify our King
That fear that prevents us from living in sin
That fear of God we lost, when we let rebellion move in
I'll be the first to admit, It's not easy to walk on a straight line
While sin constantly tries to exploit the weakness in our minds
Thinking we will never get caught committing crime after crime
With deaf ears we hear and we see with eyes that are blind
We flake and we fall, we see it happen many times
But you still pick us up and wipe the tears from our eyes
When I can no longer walk, your foot prints replace mine
You who left heaven, to save billions of ungrateful lives
I still remember that long road I thought I had to walk all alone
But when I looked down, I saw your legs next to mine ready to go
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
I am thankfulI am thankful for every breath He gives me,
to fill every day with His praise and worship.
I am thankful for the wonderful life He gives me,
for every friend I have and the wonderful people I meet.
I am thankful for the blessings He gives me,
for caring wonderful parents and loving family.
I am thankful for the talents He gives me,
that let me do the things I love the most.
I am thankful for everything He ever gave me,
I could not have wished for anything more.
Learn To Be StrongThis is normally the time when the tears come
When the words hurt and the bruises sting
But little did they know you have grown inside
Now you are immune to their bullying
The chances are that they may have suffered too
But this is no reason to be so vile
Now you’re twelve angry men finding them guilty
Of stealing your taut, tremulous smile
This is normally the time when you tremble
Huddle yourself up into a ball
But the only spherical shape they’ll be seeing
Is the flail as it maims and appals
The chances are that you will shatter their skull
And with that become as bad as them
Where were their morals when you were the victim?
You just want good old fashioned revenge
This is normally the time you’re rendered silent
But today you’ve at last found your voice
Now both weapon and word are lay beside you
You are no beast, you’ll make the right choice
And the chances are that when they’re confronted
The shamed predator will know they’ve done wrong
FrankincenseBring to the altar worldly splendors
this star under the first born
let the angel choir sing
mankind's new king
AutisticYes I said it, I'm autistic
I'm not more then you and not less
I think the same as you, sometimes a bit simplistic
I even slightly like, that I must confess
Sometimes people say I'm retarded
I let them do it, I don't care
I might be the person who is disregarded
When I get insulted I only stare
I know the truth
I'm no different from anybody else
Though I might have had a different youth
I will never change
That's something I know for sure
I think that it would be quite strange
I will stick to who I am
We can change what we stand for, but not who we are
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
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.
On preparing to never let goWalking slowly down the hall, arms filled with the day's mail, we spoke of morbid things.
She wants to be reduced to ash and I want to know if I can keep her on my mantle.
She looks at me sideways with a curious face and forgets her footsteps.
It's a little bit morbid, she tells me, deciding it's time to continue shuffling along,
but I think the way I'm trying to picture her perfect urn is probably worse.
There's nothing that I can think of that suits her, though,
and I wonder if I even know her.
Do I scatter you somewhere? You can't visit scatter.
(I think good daughters plant guilt in the carpet pile to trip upon.)
But she doesn't trip, instead she ruminates on how appalling it'd be to divide her in fourths:
she laughs as she's divvying up her body parts for our mantles.
I tell her we'll set up a custody schedule, but only between my closest sister and me;
we're the ones that take care of her. But in reality, I'm not planning on sharing.
She tells me she wants to be in the n
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More