|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The Immortal Regret.
I see upon a hill,
the setting sun, fleeing from the night...
The moon coming above that horizon for the kill,
to rise and banish to darkness all light.
Though time brushes over creation,
I live on, a slave to immortality.
Though I was the choser of my own damnation,
Twas humanity that was the cause of my brutality.
Now the world around me decays,
unlike my flesh and mind...
Time has left my future in a haze,
and the changing world has been unkind.
I see upon a hill, but another slope downward,
where the pointless journey continues on...
unto to no end is my existence forever moving forward
Nostalgia is dead, as my past is forever gone.
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.
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 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.
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.
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...
By Death and a prayer,
Through my tongue
A burning blade into
The hearts of many.
You know me not
But a name and a rumor.
Yes, to the will and way
By which I attempt to live.
Human am I, yet ever so strange.
Far gone, and close to madness
But still am I sane
By Death and a prayer.
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.
By Luck and a Loving Eye
Why stop in the place where I know I am only to be devoured?
As dark & cold as this wretched place, I would never accept as my grave.
There is no path on a unpaved road of improvisation. I follow the crumbs of ancient bread, onwards past growling fiends and the eyes of evil.
I bare the marks of one who has found the morbid experiences of existence. Healing is but a formality that I tend to allow, yet not always.
The cycles are made to run their age old courses, with constant and spontaneous tests to accompany my walk to a worthy Shepherd, whose face I am forbidden to see.
Unworthy, the all vigilant eyes that notice the fine print. Yet understandable by all means, as I am bound to humility by my given status.
Pride, met a slow & excruciating demise in a series of tales from long ago. It's rotting carcass, to this day and time, decays deep within me.
Why stop upon all such a grand distance? Now of all times in an era? I chose to carry on, forward by faith, unto my ceaseless curiosity and
Why you should write"I think you should write",
said my muse to me.
I sat under a hot shower,
huddled inside my stillborn pains
as water drum-drum-drummed against my back
and behind my teeth there was a song
a flightless lark
but I did not let it out.
And I told my muse:
my words are falling snow into melting ground
they do not belong;
Icicles among irises -
they will disappear in the growing sun
my words are wind in the feathers and reeds
and when the dawn comes, there's silence
where they used to be.
"You should still write",
said my muse to me
What are you, if not falling snow?
a speckle of dust in the rising wind
flesh and bone
like every soul who ever roamed
these vast plains of written words
song behind their teeth, tongues tied.
But you are stardust if you write
phoenix feathers, raging fire!
you are the look in the eyes of the waking day
flash of wonder we did forget
You are every black cat and
every single morning when there was mist in the air
So I think you should wri
A somber raise of the glasses,
the unbroken, yet half empty...
A somber cheers, in memoriam.
The reminder of great loss,
Well known to the uninvolved,
As a mark to remain upon history.
Vindictively vicious was
the scar ever unhealed,
Left upon a body already
mangled and slowly recovering.
How strange, this cycle of affliction.
How off the resemblance of occurrences
O'Lord, my infinite prayers...
to this horrid event in past.
To those taken to their appointed place
here after in the Afterlife.
Those fallen souls may they forever rest...
Keep in Touch!
A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More