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Right Away I Write Away
To my one and only, the beloved whom my heart favors...
For my all & every
The true love my soul has at last found.
I continue onward, producing letters
To grow into words,Words that still yet
lack ability to describe this, our love.
Though my mind works with vigor,
through day until night,
Evermore to the dying beat of my heart.
Remolded have I been,
and forever grasped...
By a bond beyond unbreakable.
The Heart that drums away the beat in hopes
of reaching the ears of some muse...
In hopes of fabricating my rapture...
Right away I write away,
direct from my inner most being,
Out poured to pages for the eyes of my angel.
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
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.
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 me this journey.
Without haste or hesitation, I spoke with my voice high,
"You said to not fear, yet what is this?!
I feel nothing but calamity flowing like scorching sand through my veins,
And my heart pounds like the hammers that forged this abomination before me!
What say you of this journey that has led me to these infamous doors?!"
To me did he attempt to
Outcast and away from shore,
to the center of still waters,
where rest my tears.
A float, the setting sun
beats its dying light
against my coffin.
Where within lies
my mind in darkness,
afloat amongst the still
waters of my tears.
Confined to a rotting cage of wood,
Time is my mortician,
at the edge of my thought.
The haunting consistency overtakes me,
compromising the process of my existence.
God help me, as the wood
is surely rotting all around me
I shall hold my breath
Just this once and final time.
I have found the haunted wake
past the lens of my sight.
I am the mad man,
within the shell of me
fighting that battle
which I reluctantly wage.
I will wait with my patience,
which with me drowns...
I will await the oak of my coffin to rot,
so that I may break free,
and swim away from my demise beneath,
To the above of my fallen tears
to whatever light remains & awaits me,
in the new world that I will call my own.
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 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.
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 estrange.
Father, I swear to you, that with my power,
Until my last breath and final hour,
I will restore you and never once cower.
With so many that believe not,
Who never found the proof they ever sought,
I will do what I may, as if never have I fought.
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
A warrior's funeralI am tired
For I have endured
This arduous battle
Without being inured
My blade is stained
With the blood of enemies
But ho! Victory I have attained!
Though at the cost of my life
I am cold, so very cold
And my lifeblood is seeping out
My firsn'final battle shall be over soon
As all are injured hereabout
I am young for this war
For I took my father's place
To die in battle I swore
Just as he did years ago
This is a warrior's funeral
Mine is a death of valor
I would never hide
And I will never cower
For Heaven's call
Is to those who stand and fight
And he who in battle will fall
Is he who bears a warrior's might!
BloodlustI hate you.
I passionately hate you with every single cell of my body.
Everything about you is so disgusting to me,
So pathetic and annoying.
I hate the way you act and talk.
I absolutely despise your essence in general.
Every time I see you,
My neutral expression falls into a frown.
Or rather, I don't even give enough of a care to frown.
As I try my hardest not to glare,
I bite the inside of my cheek.
So hard that I feel my own teeth digging into flesh,
So that that I taste my own blood.
My blood tastes sweet, and I savor every drop.
But not as sweet as your blood would taste;
Surely yours is sweeter and better to taste than mine.
I would love to take apart your flesh with my own claws
And see your raw composition lying there,
So vulnerable, so pitiful, so... Cute.
So beautiful I'd laugh.
No, not the laugh you'd hear from a usual villain,
But the lighthearted laugh you'd hear from a couple on a date,
A child watching his favorite television show,
A man making jokes with his friends.
maybe she's too youngAstrid smelled of plums. It was a gentle scent, emanating wisps of invigorating pleasure.
She smelled glorious, mouthwatering, delicate. I couldn't resist such an aroma.
She looked so frail. She had skin stretched across her limbs in flimsy, translucent layers.
I was terrified of touching her, afraid she'd crumple beneath my fingers.
Her lithe, bird bone fingers caressed my blistered calluses. Astrid then pressed her icy
palms to my aching flesh. Silly girl, she was trying to comfort me.
It was wrong. I felt bloated, my chest inflated with conflict. Better judgment swelled
against my callous ribcage, uncaring and simply unconcerned.
And yeah it was wrong, but she was delicious.
The Long Waged WarLet out your anger
Let out your rage
Put up your fists
You've got a war to wage
Hatred is the key
To winning this war
And those you abhor
Ignore the burns
Ignore the black and blue
Just smash down the walls
Break right through
For your enemy is gracious
He accepts death with open arms
And never would he ever
Bring you any harm
He loves you dearly
For you he would die
He'd never ask twice
Wouldn't blink an eye
So don't shed a tear
He won't die in vain
When you stab his chest
He won't feel any pain
Only love for his beloved
Which is you, my dear
Too late to cower
Too late to fear
March right in
And claim your right
But instead kneel down
At the glory of his light
He is true love and patience
He is peace and kindness
He will touch your eyes
And heal your blindness
Let out your tears
Let go of your rage
For this is a war
You no longer wish to wage
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
An Oath to My Father
An Oath to My Father:
The chill of winter is nothing, when compared to the cold inside my heart.
A fire, once stoked by the warmth of family, has quietly died, five falls past.
I dream of my father, who watches from beyond the realms - and my ancestors
Who fought against an endless army of giants, to win the lands we have today.
Just as a devout man honours his God through worship, I honour them through my axe!
Each stroke of the whetstone, each screech of the metal, brings me closer to them -
Even as I draw closer to my doom. Oh how I can feel him, for the anger in my blood
Boils evermore as I sense him approaching my camp. He is hungry, he is eager;
Slacks of drool hang from his twin mouths, as a jarring roar shakes the mountain!
Though I shiver at the sight, it is not from fear - I shiver in anticipation
Of the battle that is to come. My steel may rend his flesh and break his bones;
Or perhaps I shall be sent to glory - but it is useless to think about such things,
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.
HomesickI am the river's son,
my arteries flowing turquoise
and turning to rapids
rushing around my frame,
filling me with this sense
of buoyancy, minnows
tickling my sternum.
I am the river's son.
My palms caress each
silty shoreline, every
battered bank and bend,
and these places I know
so well become me
as my fingerprint,
even the bridge above me
inflamed by the afternoon
sun-glow, burning rusty and
the steel blue sky.
I am the river's son;
I bring my home along
like hermit crab,
where I step
I pull water from the earth.
Keep in Touch!
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