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He is the tumultuous ocean,
The twisting, rolling sea
That feigns a certain gentleness
Until its rage breaks free

So vast and so unending
And limitless in worth
I took him once for granted
As I wandered through the surf.

Without the tumulus ocean
Without its rolling seas
Without the tide that tosses me
And never sets me free

The arid, fallow earth would crack
Beneath my burning feet
Reminding me of which I lost
And dried up with the heat

But salt leaves me to languish
No sweetness he can quench
Time will only tell from here
If love can fill this trench.
A blanket of darkness caressed the street
Of people asleep with misguided feet
With hollow hearts devoid of light
They couldn’t see which way was right.

They flirted with death quite comfortably
Acquired great knowledge yet remained empty.
Nothingness stopped them from venturing out
They couldn’t see past their realm of doubt.

One girl arose and examined her soul
Unlike the others, her heart was made whole
Her citizenship was not of that street
Her home was beautiful, bright, and complete.

She was an ambassador from her homeland
Spreading its light with the book in her hand
Whenever she went to a cold, dark place
Her heart’s luminescence would radiate.

Attracted to her light, many gathered to see
What made this girl so loving and free.
As she read her book it opened their eyes
Many chose truth over superficial lies.

This book from her homeland was about her King
Who created beauty from every broken thing.
If the people came to Him, He would heal their hearts
And mend together all their fragmented parts.

Many said it was nice, but couldn’t be true
Others said it was myth, something construed.
Yet some believed, and received new life
Escaping the blanket of darkness that night.
 Aug 2014 Lacy Princeton
Poetic T
I have no body,
I wish not be alone,
I want to touch
To feel love.
Hold them close
Feel there soul next to mine,
But I am death,
I am cursed to be alone,
I see those that I fall in love from a far
For years I watch
My breath chills them to the bone,
But the only touch I give
Is the touch of death,
To take them from their mortal coil
For a moment there is more than deaths touch,
They know I wish them no harm,
Feeling the warmth of our souls
Before they are drawn to
Darkness,
Or
Light,
Then out of reach, out of love
I am lonely once more,
My voyage through the ages
Life,
&
Death,
I have loved and then lost,
I only get to show my feelings
Once I touch them dead,
With my soul warm,
Imprisoned in this rib cage of bone.
 Jul 2014 Lacy Princeton
Poetic T
ALACZOO**
ALACAZAR
Make me handsomer
PIFF,
PAFF,
PUFF,
There is no way..
Even magic can make that face good,
I'll snap you in two, ill make you kindle wood.
You would do that, I'm where the magic is.
You think your better I'm the Mage,
A stick you are just enchanted wood.
We can do many thinks you and I
But your stubborn,
And my stutter,
Lets never reveal what happened
What happened when I tried that spell,
And we created lawyers.
Now there everywhere about,
ALACPING
ALACBOO
This is the end of this poem
Thanks for reading it all of you
Just aquick write in my 15 minute break :)
Amusing to most cynics, these tragic tales of love.
Questioning his mercy, the one who watches from above.

Diabolical confrontation, an army so strong.
Sleepless nights withered, pondering what went wrong.

Meek perception of a fickle minded clan.
Denouncing an ambitious child, an insubordinate man.

An intense adoration, eloquence of being crazed.
Contested against vehemently, all hell aggresively raised.

Not unrequited, not unfair, a beautiful symphony meticulously shared.
Infatuation so strong, hope for lives to be paired.

Cacophony of society, this petrified state.
Throngs of loathing, a cumbersome hate.

Agitating separation, an indignant ploy.
Hearts shattered, like a worthless toy.

These bonds of unfair blood, creators of an avenging soul.
Guaranteed devastation, eager to come out of its hole.

Upset the master plan, cause his own disease.
Let there be genocide, In god's decrees he did not believe.

Buried alive, weight of there mutual debt.  
Grieving loss, Giving up on everything left.

Beaten, he screams in mortal vanquish.
His very soul on fire.
He forsakes them all, allows his blood to douse there funeral pyre.
I remember crying, hating it, crying none the less.
As snot rolled down my nose, you hugged me and time stood still.

There was complete darkness, There was luminous light.
There was agonising horror, There was never ending delight.

In that one moment, I lost the will to fight.
In that one moment, when you told me it was alright.

It was like relief and ecstasy,
A really strong high.
It was like humour and charm,
Beyond me why I didn't feel shy.

This was one of the many times you forgave me.
One of the many times I found myself immeasurably lucky.

I'm hard to put up with, I've caused you so much pain.
I've caused you enough trouble, I've been a audacious bane.
I've fought with you, I've screamed at you.
I've spewed hate with so much zeal.
I beg for everything I've done, I beg it would heal.

Why, why do you forgive everything I do.
What have I done to have you?

Why do you do everything you do for me?
Why do you pray that I be as good as any?

What have I done to get such immortal  affection?
When all I've been willing to give is a temper and destruction.

I thank you mom. I thank you today.
Children don't understand, do they?
I understand now, I understand with constant clarity.
You are an angel, the explanation satisfies my sanity.

You have shaped my life, my character, oh its a very long list.
I can't thank you enough, it would make a very boring gist.
You've left a part of yourself in me. You've bodied my soul.
You've taught me to fight, no matter how meek the goal.
You've made the world a better place, you're my refuge from hate.
I don't believe you are anything, but ofcourse heaven's gate.

I do not wish to repay you for I deem that implausible.
I owe you too much, mom.
I'm sorry I was so horrible.

I wish, I wish from every crevice in my heart.
To make you proud, a tribute for giving me a good start.
I wish, I wish from every crevice in my heart.
That you look back to the day you held me for the first time, a tender child in tired arms.
And feel content. Feel content. Feel content.
 Jul 2014 Lacy Princeton
Nickols
I am the embodiment of your sins.

I am your greed, gold in color and always asking for more.

I am your lust, swirling in amber with a slip of my tongue upon your flesh.

I am your wrath, rolling in a fit of redden anger.

I am your sloth, lounged in white, sleeping in between your sheets.

I am your gluttony, always craving more, more, more...

I am your pride, held purple in my state of royalty.

And

I am your envy, green with what never can fully be mine.

I am your sins. Full bodied. Anointed.
Please forgive my hesitation
at instigation of flirtation.
Did I ensure my elimination?
My romantic assassination?
I'll gladly partake in any placation,
for any chance of indoctrination
to the centralization of your concentration.
An operation of admiration.
A correlation of inflammation.
Your gravitation brings animation,
exclamation and elongation.
My specialization is duration.
Not to hint at a connotation,
but I feel a certain *******
by an obligation to a certain destination
where your presentation gives me restoration.
Petrification?
Total mind evacuation?
Would clarification bring fascination?
Stimulation!
Salivation!
Gratification!
Insinuation of fornication?
A simple salutation to syncopation.
Would a single bright carnation
be enough of a motivation,
for a two way relocation?
Would poetic recitation
be sufficient lubrication
for collaboration?
A consolidation?
Or an exacerbation of isolation?
Please hold no reservation,
I've only got one aspiration.
To achieve a higher elevation;
by means of inhalation,
or a certain recreation
involving a bit of perspiration
along with physical communication.
Does this seem such a bad situation?
Or are you ready for pure elation?
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