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Am I in Love?

At night, laying sleepless,
I bemoan the treacheries of life
with my love
and appreciation....
And though,
in my dark,
and cavernous foundations;
Roar the pillars of stone,
and shake them.

Waked,
by curiosity,
and interest,
I stare intently at you,
and though I cannot see,
You are there.
Tangible,
by my creativity,
and invisible,
by my negativity.
And through the secret game
that to many, has forbidden name
we speak.

Fear,
and pride,
my greatest hatreds,
now run through me,
though the game of
Predator, and Prey.
I am the prey,
of myself,
in the black vapors
of my confusion,
you two rought me
with confusion
elaborate,
and woe,
despicable.
My thoughts now strand
off into many divisions,
all joining together,
to reveal my fear,
of disappointing you.

The thing we connect through bings,
and so we remain in contact, it seems.
But ever, we thought beautiful
I am marred, and proved untruthful.
You do not deserve me,
but somehow
in this void-feeling heart of mine,
I sense you care.
I care.

Am i in love?

My Mind craves you,
and I put much emphasis on that,
for that, might,
just might,
be my undoing.
Should I look to the East,
to find you, riding, in
shining, and metallic armor,
And see only dust clouds
roam aimlessly from North to South.
But I hear banners, in the West,
all risen high,
as high hopes,
and high spirits,
to guide them.
This, is what I've waited for,
for years,
as do we all.
But my misinterpretations,
now lead the banners,
with silver swords,
bearing the name of hate.
with this,
I deserve only
to lay my head down,
lamely, for you to hew it
from me, and call it,
Victory.

This, I forsee,
this unsensible
and crazed
sight,
that passes through me,
and guides me
to all darker paths of light.
So that I may be dimmed,
and in a cycle refrained,
I should, as a doomsayer,
say my doom,
and I, as a fool,
should subconciously make that true.

This is what I see.
I fear, for you,
and fear,
for me.

I burden all, though a child
and my will is heavy, upon you,
and wild, is my desires
and should you penetrate my curtains,
you should see,
the cold bitterness, of my truth.

But all the while,
mind and soul crave you,
and body revives,
slowly,
but surely.
I sense love,
and my stomach churns,
knowing I shall hang my head
in Guilt.

Am I In Love?
There once was a man named Newborn,
whom wandered curiosly across the Earth-torn
grasses, and the rocky roads,
and was henceforth known as the Caveman goes..

These petty caveman with their bronze
constructed wheels and without their brains
had been crushed by wheels without restrain
and learned by wrote and learned to change.

From wicked wheels of stone and mud
came Spartan swords and arrows above;
From wild shields and monstrous blood
bubbiling through these savage doves..

Soon aftarwards began slavery,
whence after the fall of democracy,
learn to make a shape, a Triangle,
in the hardest way a man could handle.

A wild amount of years later
began the mystic age; Far greater,
or therefore known as the Mideveal
whence Magic was; and Poetry primevil...

The skies had Darkened with the age
of the Renaissance, and gunpow'drish stage
had begun the ruins of mankind
when the fair and the bold had intertwined..

The raging fires of agriculture
were then consumed by rage and stupid folklore
of preposterous ideas spoken by man
that have led us to the industrial span..

Soon after this atrocity,
began a most hideous animosity,
for this is Truth, and truth to be,
So listen well, for chanting fell,
but lies not to Earth nor to Man or Sea;

Humanity! Ha! The road you go is vain!
The world you seek
and the powerful peak
will be mashed with Human's refrain!

Humanity! Fools! Interwoven dictators
that have futile power,
yet invoke us every hour
into their moderators..

This path of knowledge and Wisdom
is a lie, for their is no Kingdom
that man may make that is perfection
for we always face things like discretion,
and If man cannot learn to end these cycles wild
then surely our infinite powers will be set at 'Mild'.

Man; The wisest thing I have in my life yet to say
is that you forever will from side to side sway,
and if you cannot open to all
then surely you are destined to fall!
Hark! God's toll on ye
will be payed with your life you see..
and though you fear to die
to live endlessly is a lie...

Many of men, or most of man,
asks this question, through his span
"why must we die." he says
"what is the reason for death?" he says..

Now in my wisdom small, my guess would be,
that death is through mans misery,
as ignorance blinds, and dooms men
to keep us alive would be vain..

Past Death yonder is unknown to me,
and through my time I shall want to see,
the fate of man past the lives we see
and past the circles of this world
where day and night are strangely bound
in the Earth, and space is all around,
For past this, I would love to see,
and Past this, would I love to be..
Doom,
We walk towards thy gate,
side by side, with Destiny,
and despair...

Doom, your benevolence is great,
to let the children outside play;
Yet the Sun
must surely go.

Doom,
more than Death,
am I not doomed merry dreams?
or Merry Times?

Doom,
are you so bad,
as to rupture the rose
that sprouts on sacred soil?

I think not,
for as I look to thee,
you are speculated as a tangled knot,
and just simplified as a misery to be..

But who are we to change fate?
Less war and evil rage on with hate?
Then god might come lessened and late
and spiral us into an perpetual state?

Who are we to change the Earth
that is ever more patient and disputable
than our clustered minds
like musicals?

Who are we to undo hell
to unleash the thieves and liars fell
upon the sacred land of God
whence fair and innocence mindlessly trod?

Who are we to shape the Sun
so that it exists and is never undone?
To breathe the open-aired light of day
to fool our minds, to celebrate and sway?

We are but peasants, mindless, and few
that from which a starry void did send us through,
and so we were, and so we are, from dust to dust,
doom is then, doom is there, and alone it cannot rust!
When weariness has struck me,
I look upon the old,
I see them fail, day after day,
and Fade.....

Oblivion's sire, is it not your name?
For if oblivion is past all Light,
Then into darkness we will fade,
to see the dark void's night...

I walk in forests with weeping eyes,
and shadow holds in my fears...
That the light of Trees will diminish;
An Awing lovestruck finish...

And as I look upon the trees,
I see star and moon shine bright,
and I, wandering my slumber,
See them fail tonight...

For all things on Earth,
even Earth, Water, and Sky
cannot resist the looming power
to surely fade; And Die.....
The days were autumn crisp, and dry
for Orcs, overwhelming, and treacherous ,
and though evil was held nigh,
Fingolfin's foe's arm grew ever more treacherous.

Whence all still was far and green,
and whence magic retained its Esoteric proproties
in the rivers fair and keen
King Fingolfin rode with serendipity to his Death to be.

The crowds began a wave of econiums,
and the lords and nobles followed him,
the Horse he rode followed him to his pandemonium's,
and yet the lords unknowingly followed at their whim.

This cheer and applaud soon became evanescent,
while he lead himself to his descent,
and soon the lords began to diffuse,
so no one would be there to see the news.

He wore noon-tide colored armor, that resembled bliss,
his heart he bore in penumbra and in shadow,
For his ride would be his last, and he would miss
this world he lived in; this lovely meadow.

Village by Village he rode by,
in his kingdom most to the western sky,
he clad in silver and gold armor rode
to his doom and to Mandos' abode..

And as he approached his high and white walls,
he moaned in doubt as though a shadow falls,
and he rode on, in desperation
to defeat Morgoth, the dark lord, and Evil's cause of preservation.

Over the deserts of Angfuliath
he traveled like a wounded moth,
and o'er leagues and leagues he reached the place
Of Morgoth's throne, where lied his mace..

Fingolfin, now weary, came up to Morgoth's gates,
and spoke, in Gloom, and Woe:
Come! Morgoth! Coward! Naive fool! Raven crow of Mandos' halls! Thrall of the Valar! I challenge you! Coward! Come forth and do battle with me! I challenge ye!

And Morgoth, would of otherwise,
stayed in his fortress, and send his spies,
but he would not be a coward
in front of his servants and high fortresses towered.

And so Morgoth strode forth as a mountain tall
from his cavernous throne in a fire-illumined hall,
and he opened the gates to his home
and came out in one color, of Darkness chrome.

and Fingolfin spoke in fear and rage
"Coward! Liar! Thief!" hoping for a effect of acrimony,
But Morgoth laughed, and he said a Non Sequtuir,
"You are brave, but a fool, and you shall be trodden into the ground by my hammer"

and that was the only meeting of them,
and began the fight for light, and for that gem
that shone upon his shadowed face
and resembled his former grace..

Morgoth strong and tall as a mountain
began to pour forth his strength like a fountain
into his hands to swing Grond,
and pound Fingolfin 'till he was gone,

But Fingolfin, an Elf was quick,
and ran and dodged this flick
of a crater sized tool so cruel
that left a crater sized hole that could beguile

And every time he dodged this mighty weapon
he slashed Morgoth's ankles with Orcist's point sharpened
and left Morgoth with blood that began to lengthen,
and every time he fell, and yet left him wounded.

Tireless would Fingolfin seem,
as light as air and fast as dream,
but in time he was struck with weariness
and marked the end of his gracefulness,

And Morgoth seeing this, with his hammer smote him three
strikes of mountains heavy and free
and in the end it killed him before he could flee
and there Morgoth said "So mote it be!"
Story (Poem form, not entirely accurate, over exaggerated at some parts)
of Fingolfin & Morgoth, and the withering of the Eldar.
Hear the banners, blaring,
In a Castle, sun-bathed white.
Wrapped in the golden sunsets
of both East,
and West.

Come closer, into this Castle's realm
see crops blazing with activity,
what might be prosperity,
or laughing children
and screams of joy, and laughter.

Talk to a farmer girl, of this Castle,
Listen to her tale:
I was wrought from Issac and Portia,
a Nobleman, and a Common-folk.
Together, they brought me,  16 years ago.
From the dusty deserts, that bloom green plants,
I sit lonely on a bench,
and by chance, I had a glance,
of a poor person, but, not a common-*****.
A man he is, and he stands tall,
with black slick hair,
and muscles all.
I looked at him,
and he looked at me,
or so it seems.
The next day,
in the market streets
of Camelot.
We met,
face, to face.
Though it were a dream.
And seemed fair around us,
though that was not what it would seem.
We spoke, in the corridor,
to the church,
and we learned of each others lore
and kept close each others worth.
The Next day, by midnight,
as I slept in my bed,
He was there.
He knocked on my window,
and I invited him in,
with suspicion,
and lusting,
for my anticipations.
And he spoke to me
"I will return, Christine, dearest,
but I must embark, upon a quest,
to the neighboring town of Cornwallis,
to discuss neighboring policies,
and alliances.
By 3 days shall I return,
and should I not,
then my death will you learn
has come.
And so he came,
and so he went,
William his name
who's life not spent
walked gallantly mile after mile
to reclaim his fiance
and raise their child.


Continuing,
upon the walls
of Camelot,
their lies what they
might call a mote,
but it has been torn,
and it might be plagued,
explaining the lack of
crocodiles.

Knocking on the Gates,
of Camelot,
leads to a few strange noises,
one of them, being,
no noises,
as you hear
distant voices,
as if they were sleeping,
and you look up,
"The moon, of course!"
And so you climb the wall,
with a vine you found in the forests nearby.
And you stumble and mingle
with the vine wrapped
around your ankle.

Alas, your free,
You look up for the first time
within the boundaries of the city,
and find,
inscribed houses,
and minor commotions,
and by mere chance,
the sun arrives
though late, he seems,
and later he rises
the brilliance and the blare like a clock
starts the peasants up as flocks.
Love round the village clean and fair
and animals rolling in parks they share.
Where birds sit in pair-trees.
Where dogs chase cats for fun,
Where bees entertain the children free
Where parents admire the creation they've done.
And as you walk these streets
in wonder, and satisfaction,
You find that street
is layered in sparkles
and clouds of snow-white dust
that enhance the atmosphere
of this,
Haven,
so to speak.
Their, in the middle,
bewitches thine eye,
with all fantasies of this Earth,
and all beauties that have worth.
For in the center, lies a fountain,
which speaks 'Heaven' to your heart,
its marble is smooth as doves,
the presence of the fountain,
creates, or so you believe, the dark
mood around,
like a ominous breeze,
that is being blown away,
infinitely stretched,
like a monkey-chain of rubber bands,
the features of this fountain,
excite your mind with wonder,
enough wonder,
that makes your life feel whole,
though man has at least one worth,
should the world fail
and all prove evil,
then at least, they praise this devil.
The shape is but a breath-taker from
what could qualify, as a statue
for to lie in God's Plaza, or something
similar. The water spraying from the Queen,
Gaia, with a lively green vine,
my apologies,
that is pure and uncut emerald
that wraps around her hair,
which is so defined,
that you could give Gaia a new definition,
Perfection.
And from Gaia's hands, holding a vial,
comes out water, seeming longer,
and more endless then the nile.
And should you lean upon this,
architecture, of majesty,
unbearably beautiful,
and unquestionably
promising,
you'd see,
the mirroring,
of Heaven, the Stars,
and all the cold void within this reflection,
that miraculously could ever dare
to try that deception, in say, 4 feet length,
that mimics the unending of space,
time and infinity.
and,
you turning your head,
you see creatures,
though creatures they be,
they, if the fountain represented God,
then these creatures represent his Archangels.
As Swans float gently,
upon the water's tip,
and even Salmon, and other fishes below
are gray, silver, or diamond clear.
And the water their, remains,
untouched,
despite the audiences
of romantic teens,
adorable, and innocent children, laughing and playing in this pool,
and adults sitting by it, enjoying  their mate's company.
Inscribed in Gaia's vial, reads
"The Fountain of Youth".

But these fond memories no longer supply me,
with the passion and love of this Earth,
I once fondly knew,
for all, even the fountain is pillaged,
and two lovers that loved each other were hewed.

But pride, forgotten,
and beauty marred,
live forever,
in glory
and love.
All that glitter do not shine,
for surely lost in the lore
of our ancestors of mankind
know of appreciation and more.

A tree that might wither in soil
shall agreeably meet its doom,
but though it may suffer this toil,
is it not left for flowers to bloom?

A man who's strength is all spent
like a sponge in a mop that can't absorb,
shall arise once more to repent
and to success he shall surely go towards

A spirit broken with sorrow,
soaking in a pond of pity,
shall be example of the true and narrow
to purge the child of their humidity.

A child wreathed with anger,
though like a phoenix ignited with gas,
will learn but a way of life, stranger,
than all of that which we may allow to pass.

All things on Earth, ignoring their flaw,
exist in perfection
it just requires a law;

Gold Might Not Glitter, But It Can Shine..
In times of War,
and in times of Woe,
we stumble cross this world
and down below

And in the deep
where all things sleep
we find vague secrets hurled
guarded by things that creep

When I read a paper, of the News,
I wearily read and yet joyfully snooze
I hear of stories filled with rage
and listen to pages that unto others abuse

and I say...

HAHAHA

Human fools, we are pathetic,
give up this world we know,
travel back, through time and space,
to ease the pain we've sworn to sew,

What in paitence lies with pity,
And in lying, animosity,
We cannot trust, or be trusted
And hide in cloaks from dignity

I am I guess a doomsayer,
as I like to say our doom;
It will come, by our wills done
And shall end the cycle of gloom

Even through negativity,
this white sail stand with truth,
We are poor and weak,
and surely deserve to fall from our peak..

And should you wonder why,
or how cruel of me to be?
Then ask yourself, or die,
How can you let THIS be?

When Humans have no love,
no patience for this Earth,
When grace is hunted with glove,
We've lost our lovely mirth..

When Humans care for torture,
***, Money and Power,
There is no greater torture
Then to suffer this hour through hour..

When Wars are fueled by anger,
wrought as steel, long ago,
Should we travel back this Danger,
and send it melting as the snow?

When the Economy is poisoned,
and the flag of Obama is soiled,
The truth in the cotton is marred,
and the Red White and Blue is by rage Boiled..

When Minds are swift as flies,
Yet can be stayed by petty lies,
or When these Lies
Act as flies,
they spread their wings with hate,
all across the state,
so that we may argue,
and that we may toil,
that we may blame for,
or that we may take from
And eventually desecrate

When Words are trusted fasley,
and from it lives took wrongly,
Who can we trust in this void
of life we too must rust?

When light of Moon
and Song of sun,
have in the dark fled far,

Wither we go, all abroad
Peace never shall be far,
Yet ever will be far
In this world we sadly mar.
What goes up,
must not come down*
What is free
shall be bound
What goes round
shall become flat
what is feared
will be my door mat
What is Earth
when Earth is Mars
and what is fear
when fearing cars?

Of what do I speak?

I am whispers of cold air,
that melt your face with my despair,

Of what do I speak?

I am harsh attitude,
that gives you pleasure, and fortitude.

Of what do I speak?

Do I speak of love? life? livers? long? low? lousy? loom? lay? like? lost? lovers? power? pain? physic? knowledge? wisdom? Cats?
Tacos?


....

Squirrels!?
"****!".

Of What do I speak

that bemoans the winds so fair?

Of what Do i speak?

that will:

Trade a book for a worm
and a worm for a sock
and a sock for a bag
and a bag for a tong
and a tong for a toe
and a toe for a ***
and a *** for some snow
and some snow for a crow
and a crow for a stove
and a stove for a grove
and a grove for a brain
and a brain for some bronze
and some bronze for some books?

Of what do I speak?

That goes left
and ends up right?

Of what do I speak,

that has a creative light,
that all shun
and turn away from.

Of what do I speak,

?this like backwards speaks taht

Ro spahrep ekil ****?

Of what do I speak?

That has a language of its own

of what do I speak?

That at the sight of your face moans

"For if your face is a face, then stop giving me that face!"
...
but enough games

Of What do I speak?
Love thou art bewitching,
neither Earth, fear, or sky
could ever separate you
from whom you match, that is no lie.

Love thou art blinding,
When I look upon your face
I feel the words, and see your grace
yet no light comes from it entwining.

Love thou aren't simple,
For though I love Woman ,
my soul churns, and with guilt it burns
for whom I might love?

Amidst your endless aim,
and unfathomed reasons veiled,
I die in pain, by loss of sane,
To my love, and without love..
Man
Man
The race of man is spent;
His honor left in Rome,
The night we were born in has whent;
And Our once pretty pallet is chrome

O Humanity! The Pains I must bare!
Pride, Anger, Greed, Pain, Selfishness, all vain!
And all tangled in my hair!
and all leading to a single lane...

And In my opinion life, is but the fools game
Who've thought they've won,
Have had their fun
Till they go to hell in shame.
Me
Me
My emotions are but wretched
I cannot seek to hide
that hideous 'awe' with in me,
nor the growing pathetic pride.
My heart is taken dearly,
for though I love all Earth,
Humans come, and Humans go,
All depriving me of worth....
Now hear I stand,
A liar, veiled in gloom,
Fallen from Joy, suffering pain
My life feels feign.
No friend, truly true..
O just what will I do?
Die? No!
O what will I do?
How I feel a lot
Moon, monstrous,
You illumine the Dark,
and through despair and woe,
you hide from our hearts,
whence we seek you.

Eons past,
that you derive from us,
yet you shall last
and yet control, as a plus.

Moon, empty!
Your shape revolves
such as a ball
that spins loftily
in display.
but as our appreciation develops,
and our knowledge broadens,
you shrink
when we may not see you.

Moon, Terrible!
Man seeks your shape for tourism!
Yet your patience remains high,
it must go thin,
and the powers invested in you,
will timely be unleashed
as though a tsunami,
that crashes upon a beach,
and surges forth liquid concrete
upon the hosts of Earth.
Yet, you remain patient,
but patient, for what?
Why do you stay yourself,
You do not come to us,
though you were born,
you be born from man,
and the theory true,
shall outlast your span
"Man made of equal, if another thing makes,
must return to the maker, lest the maker unmakes."
so why.
Why do you remain,
in starry night void?
O Moon,
you are wise,
and powerful,
I think, sometimes,
staring out my window,
into the cold black-winter
of space,
"Moon, I see you"
And feel excited,
then perversely fall asleep.
O Fortune,
like the moon
you are elusive of mankind
repeating, spiraling, and ending
is your way...

Poverty and Power,
your presence brings both to rust..
Your melodic rhythms
are inconsistent, and perplexing...

Your weight upon me,
is as but the thought
of Death..
and though you help,
you perversely take back..

O Fortune,
the woes of misery,
forgotten, and I
now kneel at your mercy!
Free me from this life I see!
Semi-mimicry of the song 'O Fortune' From Carmina Bruana, which is really good, go listen to it.
O please tell me that the moon is showing
where the tavern is, with music flowing!
Hidden by forest, veiled by Glade,
The Tavern is, from nature made!
Tell me that the stars are gleaming!
that so many people look into dreaming!
and see in wonder the void afar
and sleep in slumber under a star!
Please tell me no Sun comes up shining,
For glade and tree alike will be fading!
In the Tavern; In the Forest;
Lies what I hold dearest,
In the Moon; and In the Star;
Sing my song wherever you are!
In the Tavern, in the forest,
Into forest, In the glade,
that we sing in! And then Fade!!!!
Immense fire,
We heed you dire,
and bear the weights of shame!
The doom growing, blood flowing,
All ends shall be but the same!
O'er legions of frost do lie our hate-marshaled hearts
and over hills wreathed with flame do lie our dearest pains...
O misery us! This evil stabs my skin!
Buries needles, burns flesh at his whim!
Yet driven on by hope we barely stand aloft...

Amidst the endless sorrow
I look forward for tomorrow
Only to suffer pain,
day after day, it is vain...
My life, I woe alone,
Why have you, through the game
with spiteful wrath, assimilate us?
Evil wrath, decimate us?
our mind, and soul frail
and suffer unborn rights to wane..

Our grateful doom, inescapable might
the evil's fall, of unborn light
flees from pain, and his night
in which the gloom is set free..
Upon the endless mournful sea.

"Pain Flee!" Shrill my voice,
"Flame Light! Flee Night!" Rejoice!
The dark pain grows, an awful sight
of unending power, fueled by might..

Ravage these wasted barren lands
and steal their rightful joying mirth!
Strike the stars! Illuminate
us of our doom, an abyssal fate!
And saw the trees that together congregate!
Pain! You do all these things!
Through the dark to us, he brings
The Devil's willow, Satanic curse!
Pain rapture us before it's worse!

Pain you are misery!
Strike the innocent!
Steal their right!
Shall they hide from shadow's flight?
Or flee from dawn to the starry void's night??!

Pain, mistakable,
You fill us with your corruption,
and deceive us with seduction,

The doom of men is caused by pain,
ever a torture, wrongfully sane,
As we fight, we wane in woe,
The gloom and darkness is our foe.
That lets everlasting darkness in
only for doom again to begin
No man may withstand you
all are doomed to die through...
The game of agony, bemoaned by wrath...
Such blasphemy!
Amidst the chants weaving
and my dark heard deceiving,
and ruin to my heart,
from the End back unto the Start.
As time is undone,
and as children play,
and my heart begins to sway!
Everyone weep with me!

Poem # 9: Doom (again ;p)
When weariness has struck me,
I look upon the old,
I see them fail, day after day,
and Fade.....

Oblivion's sire, is it not your name?
For if oblivion is past all Light,
Then into darkness we will fade,
to see the dark void's night...

I walk in forests with weeping eyes,
and shadow holds in my fears...
That the light of Trees will diminish;
An Awing lovestruck finish...

And as I look upon the trees,
I see star and moon shine bright,
and I, wandering my slumber,
See them fail tonight...

For all things on Earth,
even Earth, Water, and Sky
cannot resist the looming power
to surely fade; And Die.....

Poem # 10: Law
What is law, if a law is abiding the law
IS law, what then IS the law????
What unmatched power,
unquestioned, higher,
than the firmaments, and yet
lower than the fiery pools of hell
might have power to make rules
we must abide???
Law, of man, is blasphemy!
No mortal creation should be deemed destiny!
Into the foundations of law!
O slavery! Misery!
In the void did law bring life?
If so, starts beamed blank on his face...
Law is powerless, save for Him
That bends it to his whim...
I totally winged it. With the help of Mr. M
Sing in love to the world!
That mystery is from the shadows hurled!
Into darkness and into light!
May in harmony we unite!
Sing a song of woe and gloom
that ever emphasizes our painful doom!
Let joyous ponds with lilies fair
entwine with nature and Nature's hair!
Let silver streams of moonlight clear
enlighten us on our unending fears!
May together the night and the sky
bring love and joy that cannot die!
May tunes high strung and beeches far
bring joy to us!
From Gaia the Fair!
Life day after day,
sounds like a game.
One reason, concerning this poem
is the fact of Possession.
Which possesses a figure of inception,
or obsession..

This is mine,
and those are yours
Who cares?

"I do! I own Atlantis!"
That's quite lovely, my dear,
but deep down you fear,
to be powerless, as before,
and so you claim,
and so you take
and so you wane,
as part of fate.

"But I own it!"
Says who!?
Did god himself
with red carpets drawn,
and paparazzi all around
stride from a chariot-limo
to head into your halls
just to discuss
your ownerships?
Or perhaps you think,
that you might of built it,
when,
in reality,
the tools and elements you've wielded,
did the work.

Does the blacksmith forge,
or does the furnace,
does a man ****?
Or does the bullet he fires?

"Its mine!"
Now you prove my point,
possession is an obsession,
All that is, belongs to all
and all that is not, belongs to me.

"No fair! How come you get to own something?"

Because it is in the realm of possession.
Such as the realm of possibility,
where as a man might grow 9 arms
and fly like spider man
with gum instead of webs,

All that exists, remains to the existing,
And all that does not exist,
belongs to the non-existent,
yet the non-existent
must be brought into existence?

and so you claim
and so you take
and so you fuel
our rage and hate..
Possession.
Might not make sense.
Priest! Ha! utter unto my ears
why you would dare bother
to face your whimsy fears?

Priest! Fool! Throw your toys away!
Your god is vain, you, insane,
and to Him you'll inevitably sway!

Your power on Earth is derived from fear
that you should burn in hell
and so preach to all that lend an ear
to lie to them of hell

Priest! Fool! Know ye not of Micheal's sword?
which perversely fell, and began to rust
as shall all the faithful to the faithless lord!

Priest! Ha! Your incompetence is great
to think that petty water and blood
may help you avert your fate!
Accept your fate!
I strongly disagree with preachers believing in going to Heaven, because, if they are so worried of NOT going to Heaven, and must join the Church to state their faith, then surely they are unsure and are afraid of God, rather than loving him.
Revolution,
A constitution
of new born rights,
as all hearken to your unquestioned might.
But I wonder, in your flight,
This pillage, like fashion plights,
What good is it to change, have war?
Over futile things, Politics against lore?
What good is it to change?
If man cannot from freedom strange
immerse perfection, and break the chain
to end unending woeful pain?
For if man cannot subdue evil will
then the vial of purity we seek to fill
inside us, will shortly spill, and then what?
We disagree and stride our struts
for new things, and new rules, "O my!"
"Revolution? Why?!"
Unclenched, revived? Evil gloom
is this to be our uttermost doom?
Heart, roused with blood
you are lively as the sun,
but ever are you small,
and fiendishly are you undone..

You are majestic,
and as important as Night,
but you are destined
to fail amidst this fight..

This fight..
Between Dark and Light,
too cold for the moon,
and too warm for the sun,
you increasingly sway to opposite ends
and ever do you believe to have faith
but your faith is melted upon my will...

Darkness rouses thee,
and in curiosity innocent,
you crack open the closet
that hides the dark commandment
that shall ever bind you in despair
and shall twist you though you were as air..

Light rejuvenates you,
and through the longing days
of evil trodden forth
you complacently design yourself
a structure of immunity
to swell and flee fast
against this growing evil seed..

Together you two,
designed by Love and Hate,
have conspired,
to remove the 3rd; Innate..
For no man on Earth,
nor in Skies, or in Seas,
might chose the middle,
where lies no man to be..

You might protect us,
and you might save us,
but you fuel a pollution strong,
that ever writhes within us,
a dichotomy of song
that ever equivocates us
and ever decimates us..

The Heart is our enemy,
and yet is our savior,
but it is not ours,
nor our being
you decide our fate so idiosyncratically,
and perceptual; to be such a misnomer,
For the Heart is a will, not a being, no, not even a power,
and is tortured by our breathing..

The Heart is a riddle,
no man yet may dare defy,
for within this heart is a circle
of ritual and lie..

The Heart is life,
but at it's own free will,
and it alone decides our strife
that with pain for it we seek to fill,
So how, on Earth, Heaven, or Hell,
does it list us as its friend,
and how does it follow us to the End?
Man may never tell...
There is a land, so great and fair
wrapped in secrets that none can dare,
But past the fog and mighty waves
grows things that forever stays.
Their lights gleam by through skies,
Their moon is where it rests and dies.
Concealed in mountains; A majestic sight,
from Taniquetil, and Ilmarin, of white and crisp Night!
There summer greens grow wildly
and a tune is wove so merrily
that fountains scream with delight and gloom
and flowers bloom from August through June!
Their the frost is mere sweet delight!
and warmth is a endless sensational flight!
Their towers and cities are built great;
And the Eldar whom live in them live an Undying Fate!
There the lights play as a musical,
high strung with life so ethical!
There a kingdom is wrought, in the West,
which are homes to Gods, their temporary 'Nest',
There the Valar live, in Valinor,
which contains the Elder Days, and all other Day's lore,
there, lies a heavenly world
that feels sent from Heaven hurled,
down to Earth, as a flash of Hope
in Valinor, where the Ends are smoke,
In Valinor, where the Garden sleeps,
in Valinor, where only Nienna weeps,
In Valinor, where the Dead rest,
In Valinor, where lies the Crest
of the designs of Illuvutar,
In Valinor, to the West, Afar...
I <3 Lotr.    Valinor is the equivalence of the phrase 'Heaven on Earth', though, it was removed and yet stayed on the Earth.
Illuvutar is the All-Father, the equivalence of God.

Nienna, A Vala, created from the All-Father's thought, weeps for the woes that Melkor had created.

Eldar Elves.

Taniquetil High Throne a top the Island of Valinor, home to King Manwe and Queen Varda (of Arda, the Earth)

Ilmarin - A star Varda, queen of the stars, brought into being as a beacon for the Elves and a sign of hope.

Vala(r = plural) The Gods that the All-Father created from thought to create the vision he himself visioned.

Thanks to Tolkein for this Awesome book :D
Life, you are truly amazing
As no spectacles, Crysta *****,
Physicists, Physics, or Theories
can ever live up to,
Or define...

Life, we see you in but broken glasses,
that might even be missing one piece,
but ever we try, and ever we die
but all the while in peace!

Life you are a melody
high strung in accord
to the skies above us
and down to shores and more..

Life you are anything
From a Rock, to a ****
to a Floor, or a door
a mouse to a house
Thrall, mall,
and many more..

Life, you are undefinable,
and can only be complemented,
with Grace, and Confusion,

For that is your way
to have us sway,
for every day
we in your arms lay...
Many times before me,
have I been told, in youth, of sea
to shining sea,
that does not wane.

Eons before humanity,
the whisking
of the waves,
showed benevolence.

But these times of peace have left us,
and close together we must remain,
Soon the world will End,
though a hollow and 1-tracked,
dead-ended train.

But those times have yet to come,
and remain as stationary as power,
One must come and go,
and one weary of the next,
as is a tower.

But in all three times, there are some questions,
What in the Past, will you have for me?
What is this unheard glory that I might see?

Do ye have mercy?
Do ye have love?

Will I be spared?
Will I be loved?

Though these fears run through us,
we cannot seek to hide,
the demeaning awe within us,
as we shall surely die.

And though comfort exists,
in forms of Heaven and Hell,
truth lies not in wording,
nor in deceit, or tricking spells,
For I must see,
with mine own eyes,
what lies beyond me,
past the skies,

and I must feel
when Earth has left,
and all is light,
as lover's breath,

and I must taste
the pure rivers clean,
that run down with haste,
wise, white, and keen,

and I must hear
the non-clustering sounds of Earth,
I must be free,
of human ear's worth,

and I must smell
no longer the air
that lives down their
that is known as hell

and I must pursue
still, my dreams, through death
and seek perfection
of immortality; Death.

So then, God.
What, Oh What, Will You Have For Me?
Pardon me, but who are you?
To tell me what is wrong and true?
Have you looked upon God's face
and seen all of time through his grace?
I thought so, weakling man,
Lying fool, with a wasted span....

Excuse me! But who are you!
To tell me what there is to do?
Authority vain, were you born
As Jesus was? Did all mourn
upon your grave that followed you
through the End? And past it too?
I thought not, arrogant man,
wasted weary in graveled lands...

But then, Who's job is it to do what is to do
if what is to be done is done too?
Then who, may I ask, are you?
Then who, may I ask, are you?
A shadow runs, from your eyes,
What is this fear that in you resides?
A shadow indeed, but of peace,
So let the shrill worries cease!
Dance as this mystery does so far
See her gleaming tresses flare!
See the starlight in her eyes!
See her footsteps light as skies!
Feel the Summer greens grown strong,
Around her garments in many a throng!
Feel the silky mantle soft and blue,
that was made fair from nature true!
Feel the love within your soul!
Feel the joy as it runs and rolls!
Hear the songs she sings at night
that nightingales hearken to with reviving might!
Hear her voice clear as her mind
that is ever peaceful and kind!
Hear the silver footsteps so!
Through Fire, Air, Water, Earth she might go!
Smell the Fragrance of her mane
of newborn life and rain forest same!
Smell her cloak so elven bright
that might send you into the light!
Smell the fragrance of her hands
to wisp you far to distant lands!
Taste the bounties she hath made
within the might of her den and glade!
Taste the fresh air 'round her sky
that is free, and will not die!
Taste the tear of this maiden wise
and be free from death's woeing demise!
And through all of this I say
"May I join you amidst your fray?"
And she, says with grace, "My dear,
you must become a Wicca, clean and clear!
Love all! Harm None!
Feel the cold of the moon and the warmth of the Sun!
Join my circle brethren!
And we shall sing forever, with no end!
Over-Exaggeration of Wicca, but that's what poems do sometimes.

— The End —