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You hit me like a wave. I drifted away, coming into the shore, and lied there with nothing but my naked eyes; the sun covered my cold, barren body. Radiating sunshine and weakness as the sea called over me, you traipsed and towered over my sight, blinding me with your ivory skin lit as the match fired the sky.
 
The waves in the sea squished me in like a soft linen blanket, wrapping me all over like the comfort of a mother. My hands were trembling as you stood there unmoving, and the melodies and blasphemous beats almost dug me out of my ears; I couldn’t even do anything. You were there like an angel lost in his epiphany. It was as if a goddess were in front of you; your eyes spoke as you became a slave to your own wrath, worshipping what was in front of you. You laid your eyes on me like I was some kind of song you could not decipher.
 
You stood there, solving the creeps and mysteries and finishing the last verse of a poem you will never read again. You hit me like a wave, and I drifted away, hoarding memories left astray. You were there, godlike and lost, and even the sun loathed your fire. You burn like a match, your skin a stain of crimson—of sunshine and weakness. You called me, but I did not answer.
 
It was cold, and I loathed it. Perhaps it was the month of October where the enigmas of night lay open, and achingly, my flesh was found in humiliation. I continued to bleed, on and on.
What is love, if not impeccable grief?
What is love, if not that one dreary night of October?
What is love, if not broken bones and bruises?

Grief is sweet and heavy. Abundant and empty. I remember grieving and feeling everything all at once. Without shedding tears, my heart continued to know the heaviness of my silent pleas. I remember writing pieces that do not make sense, and by the end of the day, somehow, they do. I’m glad it's over.

Song: Where’s My Love - SYML
Renae Sep 2023
Revenge, sounds like fun, sounds like healing doesn't it?
Revenge, sounds like justice, but is it?
Hate is a wall we build within.
That wall reaches the heavens, and revenge can turn everything dark.
The knife that we pulled from our back with revenge, has now stabbed us straight through the heart.
The liars deepest lair,
The sinners widest court,
The deceivers tallest chair.

Tradition has come to pass,
Prophecy has come to full,
Teachings to the mass.

The Way is made as tradition,
The Truth is made as foolish,
The Life is made as religion.

When will We behold Thee Glory?
How soon will you make vengeance?
When will you end this story?

You will shout over me with joy,
I sing to you with praises,
You are my mighty Warrior who saves.
Reflection on Zephaniah 3:17
Grand Piano Nov 2022
I have since learned how to temper the storm that is me.
On the outside at least.
Inside however the wind still rages.
The waves still beat with an unforgiving furry.
I have not known stillness in quite some time.
With stillness, peace has also been a stranger.
Every day I fear that the storm I have caged will break free and show the world it’s wrath.
I bought a book whose prompt was to write about a storm.
nadine shane Aug 2022
the dirt
continues to grow and fester
beneath my fingernails.

but i don't stop groveling
down to my knees,
i don't stop to breathe;
to rest.

you, who bears god's love;
whose love i could not know.

you and your sin-stained palms
continue to enshrine
dilapidated ghost towns.

i undo the stitches on my wounds
and pick at the grisly scabs
under your scrutiny,

yet you chastise me
for the pool of blood
bespeckled on your feet.

the darkness
already dropped,
the night hides me once more.

the living sorrow,
simmered, bitter, and fresh;
everything remains.
nothing can be seen from the rafters.
Kenneth Gray Jun 2022
Writhing, wroth and seething anger.
From this fool arose the urge to strangle.
Fiery hatred burns forth like the breath of a dragon.
An all consuming wrath that overflows the flagon.
From this worthless, living man lies the issue.
As I choke the very life from his dying brain tissue.
From this mental fantasy I finally awake.
Taking a life - Ah! what a piece of cake!
I was on Facebook and saw a post where someone was challenging people to write a poem using the words dragon, strangle, cake and brain tissue. So I thought for a while and wrote a little bit. Then this is what I finally ended up with.
CIN Apr 2022
Let me walk along the roads like a wanderer
I’ll glance at the beggars
Side eye the kids walking home
Someone asks if i'm selling
I say not today
The nights are cold
Grass and dirt stain my old clothes
Traffic sounds
Anger and wrath
Where am I going?
Where will I go from here?
I don't know
for some reason lately all i want to do is hurt myself.
Steve Page Jul 2021
A cup of promise
A cup of wrath
One cup he offers
One cup he took
Luke 22.20 vs Mark 14.36
Yoh Esters Jun 2021
𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞🦁 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝒾𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝒶𝓁𝓁, 𝒹𝓊𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝒾𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝒸𝓁𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭👄. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒹𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒹𝓊𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝐆𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐲🍔🍷. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒'𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝💰. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒹𝓊𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓁𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡🦥. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝑒𝓇𝓊𝓅𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝐖𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡⚡. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒'𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓅𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐲🐍 𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈' 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈.

𝓕𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝔂 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓢𝓲𝓷.
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