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~~~<«»>~~~

a
spilt
second
where
the
spirit's
spark
meets
conciousnes­s
and
our
pens
scribe

eternity


soulsurvivor
(c) 7/9/2015
time is very relative


~~~<«»>~~~
We fight the pain
Of our own
We fight the rain
Of the stones

We fight until our last bone breaks
We fight until the last one cries
We fight until victory we take
We fight until our enemy dies

We will fight on
On until there are none left to fight
We will fight on
Through even the coldest nights

We have fought many battles
But more still await
Many more bones will be rattled
But still, we will stay

As it gets cold
We won't stand alone
We stand bold
Chilled to the bone

As it gets dark
We won't be afraid
We will keep our heart
And stow it away

Out of enemy sight
Our hearts will be
At the highest height
Tall stand we

As it gets hard
We won't give in
We will walk far
Let out bones get thin

As it gets late
We won't sleep
We will keep a steady rate
Let the hills get steep

I won't back down
I won't give in
I will stand proud
I will live
Daytime sleeping; Nighttime thinking
What's so extraordinary about the daytime?
The night is much more fascinating.

Sun that's sweltering and ablaze; but,
Moon's godly, mysterious & ageless.

What's not to adore about nighttime?
It's, its' mystery & danger that compels you; full of its magic if you know where to look.

Night creatures everywhere come out to captivate.
Early birds everywhere come out to pull through.
I'd rather be a night creature full or life and adventure than an early bird full of doubt's & regrets.
-C.G.
 Jul 2015 Amitav Radiance
NV
YEAR 3085*

TALK IS EXPENSIVE;
THE RICH HAVE BOUGHT THE FREEDOM OF SPEECH,
OPINIONS ARE CRIMES,
*MIDDLE CLASS FOLK CAN'T AFFORD
4 LETTER WORDS.
 Jul 2015 Amitav Radiance
Sjr1000
I've fallen
into a torpor pit
swirling blackness
seals my lips
I close my eyes
but all I see is me,
Disengaged
Deranged
there is no reason
for this smothering gray.

I feel your hands
but they don't penetrate,
Your breath is sweet upon my face,
laughter comes from another place,
this silence remains my only respite,
My words are stifled
in my chest,
My poetry shoots blanks
where ever I tread.

Motivation is a thing
of the past,
Desire's gone at last,
Being is all that's
left within my grasp.

Lavender love in
technicolor plays
out on a screen,
Life travels on the
wisps of Monarch wings -
Breathe heavy and
hot,
Breathe light and cold,
My words they freeze
when they hit the snow.

I know dances unfold,
But no dance partner knows
the darkness that's become my
trembling soul.

It is to this enclave
I go
from time to time,
the winds outside
still howl my name,
While demons
bang on the walls
of my shame.

Call it a mood,
Call it a funk,
Call it the blues,

Sometimes
these holes just open,
Inside I go,
No ladder
only a shovel
wouldn't you know.

Doors without keys,
Echoes without sounds,
And all there is
is
the
darkness
I
have constructed
all around.
When love says --
"Come, dance with me!"
       The beloved dances~~
Inspired by Hafiz
by beloved one
The Art of Poetic Creation and Inspiration is necessary for the World to detach from the Trickster Mind lying all the time to us and others, distorting perception of reality and sustaining our false ego, causing innumerable troubles.

Through Art and Poetry we develop the higher Intuitive Mind. The only place I know bearable enough to exist within.
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
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