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Twisted and bent over By just the thought of it; Why rapture must come With such intolerable cruelty The Gods only know. They wield us like toys in A careless game of wits for some bemusement If I Were to dare and venture forth to find the golden chord and climb up to the stairway of heaven; I would pluck the very eyes of Athena and Themis and swap them in kind So they may see eachothers minds And cast upon it a blessing cured of this sickly and ravaged Regretted remorse that bodes In the hearts and souls of weak men. The shame travels in cycles the pain is constant broken only by fleeting moments Of hope and regretful longings. I Sailed with this ship of fools To find the golden fleece Knew full well that The ends of the world Will still fail to appease. there is no god or immortal That I serve except this tainted love; And yet, the unrighteous lover Renews my faith in love? **** the gods for making a device of heart so voracious And easily spaced for the fitting of loves and pain, duty and honor and every other cruel twisted trick tied by a harp string That tugged at will could test the thresholds That torment always breaks. Keep your gods and Masters of cruel fates I will follow none And will wait for death till I row the strokes to bring that of the netherworld and beyond, Just to find and ****** in zeuses Wretched heart the one he gave me by his stake And watch him melt and burn and suffer Twisted over and bent finally to understand his cruel mistake
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Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
Ancient Wrath of hearts
Twisted and bent over By just the thought of it; Why rapture must come With such intolerable cruelty The Gods only know. They wield us like toys in A careless game of wits for some bemusement If I Were to dare and venture forth to find the golden chord and climb up to the stairway of heaven; I would pluck the very eyes of Athena and Themis and swap them in kind So they may see eachothers minds And cast upon it a blessing cured of this sickly and ravaged Regretted remorse that bodes In the hearts and souls of weak men. The shame travels in cycles the pain is constant broken only by fleeting moments Of hope and regretful longings. I Sailed with this ship of fools To find the golden fleece Knew full well that The ends of the world Will still fail to appease. there is no god or immortal That I serve except this tainted love; And yet, the unrighteous lover Renews my faith in love? **** the gods for making a device of heart so voracious And easily spaced for the fitting of loves and pain, duty and honor and every other cruel twisted trick tied by a harp string That tugged at will could test the thresholds That torment always breaks. Keep your gods and Masters of cruel fates I will follow none And will wait for death till I row the strokes to bring that of the netherworld and beyond, Just to find and ****** in zeuses Wretched heart the one he gave me by his stake And watch him melt and burn and suffer Twisted over and bent finally to understand his cruel mistake
sylkie-smoothie
Written by
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
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