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She flies into the darkness
Hidden in the black shade
Her dark wings engulfed in blackness
I watch a beauty that will never fade

Follow her in shadows I will go
Follow her to Hell and back again
For in the darkest night she will glow
For her light burns the brightest then

February Angel, her heart will never be cold
Even when she dances with demons tonight
She has a beauty I could never hold
My dark soul will never embrace her light
I hold my love in summer morning heat
She breathes placidly alive
Purple hum of death
Glazed and empty eyes

I knew her electric nights
We could have conquered the world
All I wanted was to be inside her

Now she's hollow
I feel too empty to
**** a CORPSE
 Mar 2015
Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
 Mar 2015
Elizabeth Johnston
Why did you do it
Leaving me behind
In the dirt
As you moved along
Gracefully
Letting my tears
Soak into the ground
Letting my fears grow
Around me and within me
Leaving my lips dry
And hands cold
Leaving me with nothing
But sorrow and memories
How could you
Betraying me like that
I did everything for you
But I guess it wasn't enough
e.j.
 Mar 2015
Poetic T
It just hung there, rusted shut
Black as coal
Cold
Vibrations
Feeling's
That was not meant to be. I seized
My limbs frozen as if blocked upon
There reach.
Inscriptions placed in tongue
Of old.
"signati inter stratis universi"
I took my camera
Photos where as if nothing seen
Static,
White,
Blank
Visions of a black that cant be disguised around
Blossom of pink delectably spread around.
But beauty often hides the thorns,
That which is perpetual
That which seeps unto this world
Old,
Malevolent,
Malignant
Darkness that is like a whisper
Permeating into this world.
It is a gate,
A portal to a place that light does
Not enter or exit from this place.
The gate to......
I walk away as if hurried from this moment,
Ushered with a momentary....
"Where the hell am I"
"I cant ****** remember the last few days"
"I sense a smell of blossom"
I fell heavy as they tell me
"It's temporary"
I had hit my head some place,
I'll get my memories back.
I open my back gate and my hand retreats
As if knowing of danger,
But I once again reach,
"Nothing"
My head aches,
As I sleep I dream of pink blossom
I see the gate...
They find me three days later
Fear distorted upon my features,
Scared to death, died in my sleep, finger frozen
Out of reach,Scratched into my headboard
"The gate is open"
"The blossom has fallen"
**"The gate, the gate the ga............"
 Mar 2015
Poetic T
They float these pink balloons
Strings hanging down, they
Sway back and forth like
Leaves in the wind.

Weighted down never to reach
Beyond their moment, never to
Fly free, these pink balloons,
Swaying in the wind.

Scuffing  across the floor, neither
gravity keeps them grounded, or
These pink balloons never to
Let this hanging moment soar.

I have many pretty balloons, my
Favorate is pink, pink is the colour
Of flesh, a beautiful tone. One
I like to cut and bleed, as they hang
There slowly strangled floating on air.

What will take them, floating along
Scuffing feet plead for the ground,
But I like to pierce the flesh, like a
Balloon life does deflate slowly
Then gone as if never there.

I have many balloons suspended, some
Stagnant still, while others twitch.
Floating just above life, gliding
Closer to death as they hang upon
String neither here or there.
 Mar 2015
Cunning Linguist
Humanity is tainted and now leaking everywhere
In a world where people jump out
airplanes after stacks of money
To a din of sirens blaring,
War drums thrumming
Funny you'll do nothing;
It's a racket designed to create the distraction

To the hidden monsters flying in the night sky
Ever secure, beneath a crux of watchful eyes
Masters of disguise bend your will to their lies
Subconsciously shapeshifting acquiescence in the absence of light

They operate in obscurity
Conglomerates of impunity
Urgency manifests necessity
With a propensity for depravity
Slaves lulled to a fake sense of security with false promise of luxury
Compulsively regurgitating propaganda in delusory quandary
Happy little sheep march willingly to the teeth of the Serpent machine

Ominous omniscience mixes with
Sensations of bodilessness
In a state of godlessness
Whenever my conscious surfaces in this clandestine system
I sell my soul to purchase debt and let repercussions fall upon my children
A paradigm; with no ethics the center is an idol,
and the world had forever idolized the god money, Belial

Imagine
A carnival pageant, with parades of tyrants tirading
and masquerading on the world's stage as lavish savages

With overwhelming power in hand,
I'll bring an end to it all
If you gaze for long into the abyss
It will stare back into your soul

Pay homage to barrages of sacred false knowledge/unacknowledged
It lodges to your consciousness as it takes you hostage
You think you're open-minded but suffer from mental spillage
Then brain begins hemorrhaging like a glitch in the matrix

Global massacre is imminent
Our abandonment's no accident
Caricatures of government act as the Devil's advocates

Insane It's us against them
Zionist Superfriends deciding trends
designing and framing an outline of the endgame just for sh¡ts-n-gigs
Hands reach through the tapestry pulling you in and unrelenting,
Secretly from behind the scenes

Portraits of dishonesty
Stripping you of all life and liberty
Symphonies of screams
systematize in perfect symmetry
Enslaving and slaying humankind -
They've exacted brainwashing
to the science of chemistry
And mold your mind
with the subtlest alchemy

Media blackout;
Credits tapped out
Better act now
before the stock markets
collapse down

What's your plan when **** hits the fan,
will you follow The Man or fail condemned?
Now bow at the feet of the ministry of tyranny,
Head lowered in defeat *preparing for the guillotine
 Mar 2015
Mike lowe
Poetry is like spider webs. Each word has so much meaning. A spider prefers to spin its web at night. Maybe this is because thats when they have the most on their minds or when they feel safe.

Each web a beautiful creation. The time it takes to create it and the little appreciation it gets. They say a spider will eat its web when moving on, every poet will eat their words one day.

Cob webs, are webs that have been abandoned and left to die. Our bodies will one day be left to die.

This moment, this one right now, is all we have. We will leave our poetry behind to turn into Cob Webs. Maybe one day a child may stumble across these words and bring them back to life.

Poetry is the most powerful thing we have and we need to give it to everyone. So the next time you see a spider web, appreciate it a little more.

Think of it as, poetry. Something or someone spent a lot of time making it. And put their soul into it. Because what is poetry if not a spiders web in the corner waiting to be realized?
 Mar 2015
Crushing Love
Being a ***** means.......
I stand up for myself and my beliefs
I stand up for those I love
I speak my mind, think my own thoughts
or do things my way
I won't compromise whats in my heart
I live MY way
I won't allow anyone to step on me
I refuse to tolerate injustice
It means I have the courage &
The strength to allow myself to be me
So try to stomp on me, douse my inner flame,
Squash every ounce of beauty I hold within
You won't succeed
And if that makes me a *****, so be it
I embrace the title and I'm proud to be a *****!!
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