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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 exist…
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.
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.
Dreams on a Battlefield
Oh sweet sleep, take me away...
Away to the restless worlds
Of my subconscious wonderland.
Unhand me, reality...
let go and set me free.
From soul to psyche,
the visitation of my thoughts
To my warped imagination.
Where both angel and daemon,
Do visit me in my nightly coma
My memory fades from my grasp
with the cold sweat and opening of my eyes,
but I do know better as to the cause by effect.
my visitors wage war
within those restless lands.
As they are and have always been,
By dream or nightmare regardless am I
without doubt in the slightest,
intrigued by such evidence
and presence of the transcendent ones.
I know not the faces but the marks are left.
feathers in air, and hooves in earth.
Found in my perception,
blurred but far from blind,
They have long since fooled me...
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.
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 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.
I close my eyes only to see such nightmare in mind...
The world aflame and by my ears the crackling embers
reincarnated back into the dust of my world.
Recycled through the air now filled with
The exhausted gasp of Death himself.
Hope dies cradled in his weary arms,
and even he weeps from empty eye sockets.
Yet upon the burial was a seed planted,
and before the overflowing wells of his empty eyes,
grew life within the barren womb of Gaia.
Down from the Throne did He come,
barring a comforting hold over Death,
and the waters of life to nurse to health,
His world in the making to come.
Reborn and re united was to be our realm.
From ash did man come,
as will my world reborn before my very eyes.
As never a means to an end was this destruction.
A world reborn, one day my own, to share with my fellow kind.
I open my eyes, only to see the dreams of god come true at last.
4. From Omphalos and Into the War Zone
The arachnid turned, and receded to the peak of the structure,
The creatures stood as still as the trees,
And soon, they too did retreat back to whence they came in the woods.
A powerful gust came to my shoulders,
And at a drumming pace did it come from above…
My ears then beheld in amazement, the beating wings.
The numbers were the sort that would leave you speechless,
Endless were the children of Creation, loyal to a dying & holy breath,
Swooping down, as their passing pulled me back towards the edge.
Here began my free fall from Omphalos and into the War Zone.
Past the maze which I once did tread, descending the mountains side,
Back down to my place of origin to this journey, where my rose was received.
There did I land as a shade, untouched by what I was to witnessed,
Yet still petrified and still did I stand,
Alike my putrid corpse that was feet from my feet.
My out of body experience found interruption from surrounding eyes,
Inhuman and many, outnumbering the shine and
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.
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."
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
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.
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
Dry Spell I am immobilized by time.
by the idea that it is somehow slipping,
through the cracks of
my fingers and high
above my head.
I am terrified by the incessant notion
that no combination of thoughts,
could possibly satiate it.
I realize only now that it can never be filled:
all which is tossed into it is swallowed in haste
that it dissolves into non-being.
I find that I am caught within its furrows
much like the words it devours:
between its twisted arms
and I find myself aching
to do so much at once
that I end up doing
IgnorePeople used to love me.
There used to be something interesting or
exciting in my darkness
or maybe it was just that we were all younger then
and they didnt know what I knew
which was that the world is a horrific place to be
and so I must have seemed wise and new,
but now I feel so alone
and it hurts
and I can't do this anymore
and I look around for a friendly face
and when I can't find one I wonder
who the hell I was looking for anyway
because I wither in agony
and half of it is loss, of her,
and half of it, is knowing
that no one will ever wither
from the loss
CopperThe underside of my heart
has rusted through the shell.
Smooth tissue hangs, sodden,
through the ring of oxidised needles.
The frantic muscle
takes on water, tries not to drown,
in the body of fluids
you spat into my chest cavity.
Heavy barnacles of regret
cluster cancerously 'round 'til,
like all else, they disintegrate
with the acidic memory of you.
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 die,
my goals await my coming
Keep in Touch!
^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