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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 mountain
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
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
Tomorrow Won't Be YesterdayTomorrow Won't Be Yesterday
The light is on
You're sleeping next to me
I think I've had
All I can take
It's all that I can see
Roses, diamonds gold
I never would have wished for them
If I hadn't been told
"Baby you're the one for me
I'll never let you down
Here take my hand I'll lead the way
I'll make you safe and sound
Darling you're the one for me
And I am so glad I found
You're beautiful you're wonderful
You make me so damn proud"
But the light is on
I'm writing this
And your eyes are closed so tight
I can't remember
Your last smile
I only recall the fight
This in Our Hearts
Faith is not to be governed
by the vile will of you humans.
It is the very pulse of your soul.
The very core of the morality
that drives you.
Like you, it may be tainted & controlled
but only by your given gift of free will
can this take place.
Like light, it holds the power to
guide and to free, just as it holds
The potential to fade away into the darkness.
Like a parasite, can it consume you
but only by the filthy hands
of invited demons.
Faith is both gift & privilege
accepted into heart & mind
by the words of a truthful tongue.
In days to come, shall you hear
the drums of war over & around
The plains of existence, and f
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 t
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 lo
Decay Along the Beaten Path
The time carries on, by and by
languid, lethargic, and seemingly lacking...
No rest for the working man,
has made my limbs weak and brittle.
No push lies against my back,
no pull of my feet along the given path.
Mr. Sandman, repay me my memory in full.
This lack of alleviation makes me to be some sort of fool.
A heart so torn as to my mind, many lacerations...
Though the scars are back home,
where left I, my soul.
Hindered, the mindless drone before you,
as I understand not even my own actions.
Be this change or some phase,
I wish it to end,
as I grow weary of this
over sized bump in the road.
Forever may it be m
Taken aback, never have I been so ashamed...
And lo by the brethren of my very faith!
Bestow upon them your grace,
sweet Heavens above,
For they realize not
the ignorance of their arrogance.
Forgive them my Lord, as I cannot...
Many attempts have I made
To make amends...
Yet they continue to abase and abash
Those whom can truly claim witness
to your infinite truth.
Their judgment should come from me not,
for I wish them to make their way
to the shores of the ocean of their making...
where they may drown within their asininity,
to which their ways now lead them,
Moths to a frenzied flame.
I fear I must now express
Reaching Out To Sanity
I can hear the music,
playing in my head...
That brick wall melody,
that leaves me dry and bled.
Back out, unsound, way past
The naive embrace,
clutched like the withering vine,
so doubted in commonplace.
That sorrowful harmony,
with mysterious limbs
running like mad
through my mind, so dim with fog.
In my wake do I hear that music
of the morbid and downtrodden sound...
Sweet, the symphony of my imagination...
the chaos, although so profound.
Stained, my face with the misery
Of this occupation of thought,
not much, yet the burdens are stiff
within the acidic net, am I forever caught.
The Book of Excerpts: Re-Reformation
What is this delusion before me?
This dreadful illusion that I do now see?
I fear such terror from the powers that be...
Those angels above, those demons below.
The Horsemen to come reap and to sew.
I see the once powerful flock, now come so low.
God how I pray this to be but a phase,
To leave this to past and within a haze.
Bring us out of this horrid maze!
Your people stand divided, stumbling forward
To a future cloudy and grim, blinded yet onward.
Power drunken fools,ignorant to your true word.
Give me this life's chance to make due change,
To adjust and assist in this time so strange...
This time in which we must to our ways
A Shade in the Fog
Gazing onward with the wanting eyes,
in search of nostalgia and reminiscence
is the shell of me.
Repression of thus, my depression,
I recall little to nothing at all.
Find me within the fog of my thought,
Shade of my Lord,
for lost am I,
drowning in the murky waters
of my ever fleeting psyche.
The Book of Excerpts: Creed of The Patrons
Blessed my guides,
Governed by our King.
His children know my purpose,
just as he upon his throne.
Sweet clarity do I seek,
But of course patience is key,
as by faith do I live, as this
nothing but mortal being.
To only them and our Father,
do I loyally obey.
Behold, for I am the left hand of God,
and I will fear no evil.
Have you looked into the shattered mirror,
to find the subject of your exasperation?
Accursed hypocrites of the heathen reign,
"Make them suffer for the sins of their ancestors!"
What know you of history's bloody course?
Not a thing, not a damn thing.
Look in the mirror of this worlds memory,
let the record show that which is yours,
the folly, the choking arguments.
Evidence is all you have,
just and yet, the other term, of faith...
Yet again and again,
abased, abashed, by my shear hatred for you all,
Of what do you know in regards to faith?
Not a thing, not a damn thing.
You walk hand in hand with
the blind, deaf & dumb
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.
The Patience of Power
I saw the lonely mother play with her blind child.
And this gave me hope.
I have seen the millions of footprints behind the old man.
And this made me proud.
The painted canvas does always change,
Unfolding history by the brush of human nature.
I have watched my plan slowly play out,
And for this I had patience.
I have witnessed human nature first hand,
And I have yet to find the inclination to change it.
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
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...
It's Just a Phase
It's when you close your eyes that you can hear endless cries for help,
But you can only see whatever your mind allows.
The world is a beautiful Hell worth fighting for,
all as a matter of perspective.
It's just a phrase, it's just phase,
Adjust the gaze and give none but praise.
Open your tired eyes, let the floodgates swing open
and wash away the dirt and grime of this world.
Find it's beauty, hidden past the piled filth,
and wipe it clean with what tears fall from you.
Redeeming qualities are what outweigh the countless flaws,
yet we ignore them because we love to hate.
What storms come, come to pass,
and at their end does the sky re
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 w
The Irony of Fear
What if my heart held no fear? What if my mind questioned nothing? What if my soul belonged to apathy? Then I would not be human.What if I had no faith? What if I believed in nothing? What if 'what if?' Was nothing more than a thought that crossed the mind that questions nothing,The fearless heart and apathetic soul? Then paradox would overtake me. I fear for I am human, a man with a caring heart and a burdened soul. Whose faith is tested by the second, because belief is what drives the ceaseless 'what if' that in turn fuels the faith of what I most believe in...improvised curiosity, established free will, and a progressivist, artistic, scien
The Devout, The Divine, The Deceased
Three are they,
Of Heavenly origin.
Governed by the Highest Throne,
and led by the Horsemen.
Devout are the Grim Trinity.
As death has never ceased
So true to the cause are they...
By cursed and divine blades.
The Patrons of the Deceased and Dying...
and of those related to the involved.
Divine by right is the Angel...
Unholy by cause is the Demon...
Leader by title is the Nephilim.
By them are taken souls guided,
Through them are souls
released or enslaved.
BailoutThis work of fan fiction contains characters, ideas, situations, and places found in the Hasbro Studios series "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic". No infringement of copyright is implied by this work of satire and parody, and this work is meant as a celebration of the people involved in the creation, development, and production of the series.
Written by The Descendant
Ponyville City Hall Fixture
Sweet Apple Acres Farm and Marina
Dear Mayor Mare,
It was wit' no small amount of disappointment that we received yer' newest letter o' sympathy, madam mayor. While yer' elocution wa
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