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bLindThe wind carries meaning. As it picks up, reach your branches into it. Let it's force cause you to sway. Shed your dead leaves until there is nothing left. Keep rising up into the sky, and keep digging those roots deeper. Float on a sea of whatever it is that it may be, flying so free, in your mind completely blind to see the sight of things...
Some people swerve through life wearing thin spots into their souls while trying to suck the souls out of others. Eventually, this will rest on their conscience. The rest of the world will look like an angry mob coming for them. If you gamble with the devil, you will lose every time.
Careless souls suffer. Whether it be a sign of a new day or just a passage of time, what you harness has the ability to pick things up, to possess your soul with light. So is the plight of the being.
3swerveSthat which comes from the mind
does not adhere to concepts of time-
this space cannot be replaced by
any amount of days gone to waste-
but does something cease to exist
simply because it cannot be defined?
or does lack of definition give it
meaning by nature of it's design?
when i get to the top,
i'mma breathe all the air for you-
i'mma scatter clouds, and
i'mma make the sky more blue-
those things that are not right
i'mma fight to make them true-
it's a fight just to make it through somehow,
but now, here's to all the things i gotta do....
i saw you speakin' lies
with all the other less-than-distant types
seeking out their own demise
but these aren't just troubled times, (right?)
i'm just blind
i can't see when it's "storytime"
so i spite my mind to tighten up my spine
Concern for the same old...it happens as it always happens
meanwhile, the drastic double-back
they can't see where they are going
with no light, so they darkstep...
but if there is trouble in paradise
it's a major concern--
we all love sunny days
but everyone hates a sunburn...
it's the way they crash n' burn
that makes their face taste the
rugburn in a way that they make
sure no one else gets hurt...
and the shallow will pull you under,
so deep... take my word for it...
i crashthere is no justice
i learned that from the aftermath
life passes by in a flash no matter
how you dance this sacred dance
trippin' over these two left feet
thinkin' over and over again about
how i tend to lose certain things
i think the world must be evil
takin' away the things that matter the most
and denying me anything real
whats the fucking deal
like tsunami waves
and if you look into my face
not just at it
you will see genuine panic
one more drastiC upheaval to add
to the rest i can't handle
leaving me burnt out like a candle
its so dark and i'm blind, its not right
.... to be continued...?
one letteR-choose your words slyly, cuz it's whatever.
it's one letter and it's better than never.
second-guessin' expressions can go on forever,
but only the clever can hold up in this endeavor....
-and if you cant handle the weather,
if you cant remember the rain bein' wetter,
drippin' onto the windows longer than
God meant for Mother Earth when he blessed her,
-just relax and sit back... first, reflect on some thinGs.
matter of fact, take a nap, get a restful nights sleep.
(thinking right completely blindsides when sleeping,
see, leading to discreetly finding real meaning....)
-common misconceptions aren't always the best to get;
if you can't follow the definition, don't swallow the rest of it.
the words will get hotter with the fire your confusion lit,
*but the burn doesn't bother if it was right to begin with... ←
no releasEim comin back as drastic as a relapse attack of a bad 'have to have it' habit
you can't escape the fact that you can't shake it and thats the power of its magic
changin the earth up in this piece isnt worth the stress if there is to be no release
and loudmouths blabbering with their hands out is no reason for me to aim to please
so this shit MUST cease....... i live to believe that something has got to give
i'm convinced the definition directly relates to whether or not it is intuitive
but in its truest sense, there exists no questioning at all of any of this
and thats why i dont defend myself when it comes to any of this
the moral implications of hittin the floor will shake up the picture with more complex complications than ever before
you can not ignore the fact when it's in your face and you step back and then brace for impact cuz you taste it
its bitter, the burn of harsh reality vs. shards of broken fantasies will hardly bring back what is actually happening...
-an entire spinning rock of
filled with people spilling the
contents of their heads
just so they can feel
their confused attempts get
there's no feeling in the feeling
and it infects them...
it's so intense, and they wonder
why it makes no sense
they wonder why it hurts to
breath, so they assume they're
drowning in this murky sea
and subconsciously deny them
that they will ever find
someone that can make
Rays of Madnessi throw my habits into the fire
it's an uphill battle with bald tires
it's like driftin' off the roadside and slippin' into the gutter
when i smother my worries avoiding slumber
so no wonder i hurry so drastiC
then be actin' all like,
"i don't know what happened"
plastic bags of magic explodin' open
spraying rays of madness that we're smokin'
chokin' on broken pieces of our lives
hopin' we'll achieve somethin'
before we die--
head tripsclumsily synthetic, manufactured out of reasons
that are somewhat pathetic... head trips, even
when no one suspects it, always tend to
affect their own reflection. don't miss this opportunity
to learn a Golden Lesson, and to adjust and make
corrections. be aware, talk right. don't waste any
time forming false ties, propagating lies, or having
to wear a disguise-
*real people can tell whats real by looking
into your eyes. to you, this should come as no
I Won't Let You Fall ApartHey, do hear me?
Take my hand.
Before they see!
No, I won't let go.
I won't let you fall
I can't watch you slip
Yes, it's worth saving!
I'll hide you away from them!
See your beauty.
Don't run away.
Take my hand.
Because this is something I have to do.
I'll build the wall
I'll keep them on the other side.
I won't let you fall apart.
Old SavagerySince brother killed brother
And life tore down life
We tortured our fellows
And ignored what was right
Wired to be monsters
While taught to be saints
Our future seemed sure
Now its growing quite faint
The sun lifts and falls
And ideas wage their wars
We climb and we conquer
And wonder, what for?
Ignoring the doubts
That keep us constrained
We grapple with hungers
With morals and blame
Connect all the dots
And cross all the ts
Beneath this thin mask
Lies old savagery
Strange contradictions, made by the mad
If you knew where it came from you might just be glad
That nature drove us against one another
Far, far long before brother killed brother
LiberationIn the journey you face there will be many caves
Many traps and the fools who will take them
But no traps hurt more than ones of your own
In your deepest transgressions you make them
But that's not the end; no, its only the start
Though part of you wishes it so
That there was a trapdoor out of here
An asylum where failure could go
They barely know you; justifications
All for the purpose of keeping you bound
They'll cage what's unique as if its a beast
Doomed to be kept underground
But even with hands tied the psyche goes free
This body restrains most of all
Within your dreams you'll find what you need
The trapdoor where misery squalls
Go down the stairs and open the door
To let everything out of its prison
As the casket yawns open you'll discover yourself
Freed and awake and arisen
In this cave of unconscious the shadow will sing
Of cruel and unshakable fear
But if you weren't meant to do more than follow
Why would you even be here?
Heartstring YarnOn the settee by the window she lies on her breast,
perusing a book in the clouded rays,
she inspires in my heart an insatiable zest,
after noon on a mute autumn day.
Her feet are raised, naked to the indigo threads,
that dance at her ankles and crinkle at her knees,
and to her delectable rear closely weds,
then stops for a sliver of skin: a little tease.
Stretched and craning, I grip the windowledge tiles,
and revel in her luscious copper waves and curls,
and the gracing of her amaranth lips with the barest of smiles.
Her dainty hand supports her head in languor,
while her struggling eyelids quiver and close,
only to jump wide open in tired anger,
but she soon drifts into a reluctant doze.
Sunlight for a moment fading, I close my eyes too,
and imagine her scent, of flowery notes and mellow tones,
and the rain on her hair like a crisp morning's dew,
and her soft lips evoking warmth in my bones.
I rest my forehead against the damp brick wall:
we're both forever too afraid to say hello,
The ConfessionI have no idea where I stand,
Nor which hand to grab.
Will I'll be caught if I fall,
Or well I just be left to fall forever more.
Confused about what people tell me,
Not sure if they like me nor hate me.
I'm a shadow forever consent
But always at change.
The driest of lands
At the bottom of the lack.
I can see but I do not.
My feet are burning, the icy land is so very hot.
These are just a few of my thoughts,
That keep going through my head as I walk.
As you can see my thought are a mess,
This is what I have to confess.
My confession is done.
What do you think, am I the only one?
I Am FineWith him, I was the sun on the shore.
The highest bird perched in the tallest tree.
The gem that outshines all others,
The laugh of the happiest girl.
Without him, I'm invisible.
A painting never painted, tears
welled up in eyes but never shed.
A dream cast away on the wind.
A hopeless nightmare,
Love me as I am nowLove me as I am now.
For I've made countless mistakes,
and I shall encounter more.
But embrace me with open arms,
comfort me with loving eyes,
and accept me without a doubt.
And I shall do the same.
Do not loathe my history,
do not fret for my potential,
and only love my current self.
And I will do the same.
Keep Going"Smile Through the Pain"
Can you see it? I am happy-I am alive
Can you see it? The scars of a thousand words
I am still going
I have been brought down
But for some reason the one thing I am sure I can do
Through the tears, through the agony
Because one thing is real
And I am no longer letting YOU take it away from me
Roses in the DesertWhite roses cover the sands of the desert,
A fragrant golden snow for you.
I watch the light upon your face,
cast soft shadows of blue.
Keep your head upon my shoulder,
until I go crashing to the ground.
In the night my stars cover your body,
echoing the world's soft sound.
White roses bloom on the sands of the desert,
A rising cloud of pure intent.
To see your eyes reflect the emotion,
I take in your fingertips of content.
Together we run through the veins of time,
And rain falls through the sand.
I light the expanse of the broad sky on fire,
spreading the word throughout the land.
White roses wither in the sands of the desert,
A last stand to be at your side.
I have given to you everything that I am,
holding your tears while you cried.
The moon turns the tides of the sand,
you hold me through the motion.
The roses couldn't have been more right,
we lost each other in devotion.
Absence of Soundso much can be said when so little is spoken
you scream in my ears with your silent emotion
chokin' on the words swervin' back down into my gut
open the mouth to remove all doubt and the air gets cut
when i reflected back on the thought all i got was static
but saying too much can be tragic; silence is less problematic
automatically we assume the worst of thinGs.....
never realizing the unnecessary nervousness this brings
sure that we heard some things in the absence of sound
but venturing into that void will guarantee
you will never be found--
Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
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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