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Made of What We Are.
Endlessly in the end,
shall I let flow the passion.
Our own, the love undying
to the very cadence of Heaven's joy.
This paradise discovered,
that when my heart speaks of you,
with a burning passion,
that right away I write away.
Thank you God, for Anael's gift...
This now love from afar,
to this portrait of perfection
That to I shall return....
To this, my angelic fire,
I am bound forevermore,
by unbreakable vows
to that true sense of belonging...
For this living gift,
Shall I be home in a heartbeat,
to fulfill that elated kiss,
To glorify her in full.
Long did I hold patience for this to come,
and the cliché cupid had at last found me.
As wherein our lips meet,
this living system of mine reminisces.
What memories have remained
in my forgetful storage continue
to serve my jaw the smiles
that you so know and adore...
For whatever reason, you chose me,
and pray I that God had a hand.
Though I deserve not a thing,
I receive beyond the expectations of my prayers.
Long did I await your arrival,
And I don't believe you were a second too soon.
Yet Another Fallen Host
My, what hope lies
in the half empty glass,
trembling by tremor and leer.
At such a long road's end,
does it rise and shatter.
What understanding have you,
of fear, of pestilence,
other than the existence of self.
Imposed, the creation
to be eventually bled out.
Filthy, the very cause
by which the water rises,
boiling with blisters
in the overwhelming sin
of the ever beating sun above.
Freedom, to the acrostic asininity
now found laughing atop the grave...
the grave of past gone by,
decaying with every bite
of a gluttonous sloth with an ancient cause.
That to my eyes, the mass hysteria,
borderline loss of sanity from the commonalty.
Have I lost track or do my eyes deceive,
the horsemen's tracks are of disarray,
and I know not which one has come.
Now, the angels look onward,
gazing with hopeless eyes,
searching for faith in the fallen creation,
who now wither and crawl,
away as they fall, into the Abyss....
Declines, the signs of the end,
the near and far come and go,
as the war seeps t
Stained, my face with sorrow,
wash it clean with a kiss on the morrow.
Embrace me not from afar,
And allow my soul to shine brighter than any star.
I swear to you that we are only stronger,
and hand in hand, we'll last through eternity and longer.
We fear the same occurences do we not my dear?
I dread the end of this blessing, but the future is unclear.
My darling, you need not worry of my intentions...
It is only the expected obstacles that bring tensions.
Wipe the worrisome tears from those beautiful eyes,
for it will never be our devoted passion that dies.
Calm your caring heart, as I am here to stay.
And away from my vows to you, I shall never stray.
It's Not Delivery, It's Damnation.
So long ago began
the ever growing free for all,
The all you can eat,
dog eat dog world,
are the simplistic struggles.
So out of hand,
that solutions become
straight out and down
from the kitchen above,
down the slip n' slide
through the caverns
of mishaps and mistakes,
I bet it tastes like regret,
and the buyer's remorse,
Reap what you sew say
the teeth of the demon,
With every bite sinks
in a shame filled saliva.
"Maybe we'll slow them down!"
Say the so called thinkers...
I can't help but think against them,
but what do I know?
I'm just a common crumb in the trough.
Above Heaven watches,
restricted by the local law
to keep the peace...
nothing is ever done,
but to keep the balance.
Fallen From On High
Embrace sweet calamity,
The darkness which engulfs you now.
Apollyon, of that intrepid verse,
Now awaits, drooling with a gaping mouth.
Of temptation, the liars tongue,
Striking up the deals that bring you only to ruin
Just below, Tartarus waits for you...
And the patient welcoming shall be of no surprise.
Embrace now, bitter calamity...
The retribution that has longed for thy touch.
The clustered storm, prolonged, procrastinated,
hovers over to knock you down.
The portal, that vortex, to plunge you down.
Have you to own, no peace...
only what is allowed to your filthy hands...
Home in a Heartbeat
Knee by knee,
at turning the other cheek,
this distance brings me down.
The seconds that pass away from
fly abroad, bound by time
to be else where and beyond me.
Flying to the air, by each moving hand.
I hold little for you of giving to,
For The hands of the clock do taunt me,
as from all ends have I met isolation from you...
and my wake is nothing short of lethargic.
From I to you, the long stretch of land,
a mere obstacle yet for us to conquer.
The tests know nothing of our bond,
and by no means will we fail.
Ignorance is Fear
What knowing have you
of what you speak?
The rotten fruit from which
you've bitten and consumed,
has truly brought to you
the seeds of idiocy.
What have you done,
to comprehend such words as provocative?
As pure and professional
are the letters that I form to art.
Doubt I that you
know a significant thing.
The ignorance you so proclaim,
is the fear from which you flee.
You dread whatever is misunderstood,
and without reason do you lash outward
with teeth and claw,
like some rabid beast, tormented by disease.
In the end, the clarity has marked
that yours is the feeble mind.
Yours is the debate of madness,
and the indecency of your own nature.
In the end, you know nothing,
because you are nothing.
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 veins,
Allow me to play my hand just once and bring you to agony.
Your life will never be mine, but you will know my hatred of you.
A writter's faultThe hardest part of writing
is not the story line or the plot.
It's not the characters, the setting.
The places you draw a lot.
It isn't about the seasons that make the story change,
and certainly not the years that pass.
It's not the coming of age
your characters go through when dealing with their past.
The hardest part isn't the beginning.
It's not the daring hearoes, or the dual personality villians.
No, actually, it's what you do;
the words that you write to make one character fall,
the one that answers to his Call.
The hardest thing is killing them off,
When they really shouldn't have died at all.
DreamThere he stands,
The man simply known as Dream.
He's different now, fallen from grace,
And risen back up to it.
He was a joyous man, but he was beaten,
Torn and scarred, starved and tormented.
How did he get past it all they question me.
I know the answer, only because I asked him myself.
This is what he said to me,
"You can only be broken so much,
Eventually they stop trying,
Then you take every scar,
Every fracture and shattered piece,
And turn them into strengths and advantages.
Since they can't hurt you anymore,
You have nothing left to fear."
He turned his tortured soul into flawlessness.
That is who he is now, a happy wounded soul,
A perfect little broken Dream.
Dew DropDew Drop
Parted without any goodbyes…
falling from the highs
fresh and beautiful!
Just falling freely, with no rule….
All those eyes watching,
see a bright smile, and sing,
"wonderful, delightful, how free!"
The real truth can anyone see?
As it dropped off the leaf,
all eyes gone and solitaire engulfed it's belief
of someone to understand,
that there's a frown behind that smile
None stretched their hand, let it dissolve in the sand
the dew drop's worth just lasted a while…
nobody to understand the story
of the one that lost it's melody,
waiting to be freed from melancholy:
The song of the one, who's lonely…
I'm Really Not OkayI sit here, completely faking my smile
And you don't see through it.
Everyday I feign happiness
Somehow no one sees past my façade.
They all just think everything is fine
That I'm okay
But in all reality, I'm really not okay.
On the inside I'm screaming for help
Curled up in fetal position with tears streaming
No one looks into my eye and see the lack of spirit
The very thing that I feel.
My smile is my mask, something to hide behind.
While everyone believes that I'm happy
I know I'm really not okay.
A Season's Echo of PassingRows of dried corn stalks bend
with the wind that
thirsts for rain
that will only come when it has died
and the ears of corn cease to rattle.
And the thunder's distant laugh
will chase after the snakes
heading for their mounds on higher ground,
their husks abandoned-
the flash floods may yet pass them by.
She Dreams Of LeavingShe sits there by the window.
She stares out into the world.
Something she does every day.
She wonders how her life could be different.
She wishes she could get away.
She wishes that peace could be made.
She wants to leave this place and never come back.
She wants to explore this big old world.
But how could a girl of 17 want such things.
People would always say oh she's young,
She doesn't know what she wants.
But she does know what she wants.
She feels as though the people around her
Do not understand her.
They don't know her.
They will never understand what she wants.
She doesn't fit in with them here.
She just knows that she has to get out of here.
She's going to leave everything behind,
So she can have a new life.
She dreams of leaving this place,
And never come back.
Anywhere in the world
Is better than here.
Expectation setExpectation set.
Go about swinging.
Ball rolling from one side to the next.
We met again.
Expectation set, a little higher now.
Go about swinging.
Ball kicked mindlessly.
Expectation met, I think.
Expectation set, about the same as last.
Go about swinging.
Ball hit and missed.
Expectation not met.
Disagreement and fading.
On to the next subject.
Expectation set, a tad lower.
Go about swinging.
Ball beaten and long gone.
Discussion and understanding.
Expectation set, lower now.
Expectation set, barely there.
Go about swinging.
Ball not moving.
Go about swinging.
Ball is truth.
Here but InvisibleInvisible
That's what I seem to be.
It seems no one knows I even exist.
I'm surprised some people even know my name.
All I hear is "Who's that?"
or "I didn't know she was here."
It seems no one knows I'm here.
It's not like they care.
Thats what I am.
But, I'm here.
I've always been here.
The Lady of the WoodsHe sat up, suddenly alert. He was sure he'd heard something.
Looking around, he saw nothing but shadows, caused no doubt by the pale moonlight filtering through the branches of the trees. But he'd heard something, he was certain of it; albeit little more than a whisper. He attributed it to the rustling of the dead leaves coating the frozen earth, and went back to his book.
But the leaves lay stiff and immobile, as they had all night. There had been no breeze to make them whisper.
The rough bark of the tree dug into his back, and he struggled momentarily to reposition himself. As he did, the book fell from his grasp and tumbled to the ground. He made a small noise of annoyance, and reached out to pick it up.
His hand froze, inches from the book. His eyes were wide. Standing up, the book forgotten for now, he called out.
No response. He was really getting creeped out now. He grabbed the book and stuffed it unceremoniously into his bag, slinging it over his sh
That Elated Kiss
Between us both, that kiss of God
From to and upon the souls within the very cores.
The fruit of this knowledge was not ill-gained,
As meant for mine eyes was the gotten teaching.
Ah yes, the inspired motivator amongst my tongue,
Pure, but deadly, as to protect what is owned
By the cavities that contain ours, the beating hearts.
This marathon to & through
which I gladly volunteer to run,
Has my limbs aflame, enthralled with elation,
Striking down to its knees, the very calamity that
once over took me. Bless you, from above,
as from my lips between us both, a kiss from your lover.
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