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splvrry Mar 2014
i'm not soulless;
i actually feel like my soul is not being held by a body.
like my soul is flying around in free;
but i do not feel safety.

i'm bodyless;
whirling around in the wind,
like a particle of dust
with no weight
but still tough.

i am just a soul;
without a beating heart
with no lungs,
and no blood to be pumped.

y.m
Dave Jun 2018
I’m in a small group
I am a small group
I’m small
I’m smelly
I’m a smelly small
I’m in a very smelly small group
I have a group of smalls
A very smelly group of smalls
I'm in a very smelly groups
A very smelly small group of smalls
A smell
A group
A small
A small group smell
(PS: 'smalls' is an old word for 'knickers'
Another day was gone,
tomorrow is another day down.
...See you soon my beloved hometown!
Baguio City, Philippines - Hometown
Lou Alpha Jan 2023
Legend goes there is a lake
Made of the darkness of the night
Spangled with stars a comets' wake
Lit by pale silver moonshine.

This lake is said to be surrounded by trees
Rising their black boney fingers to the sky
Groaning, shivering in the breeze
Barely alive and waiting to die

When the full moon casts a ray
Upon the ---
I'm totally sorry, but I never finished that one.
There was a fairy supposed to show up, eventually.
Something like the Lady of the Lake from the legend of King Arthur...
Maybe I'll finish it someday, when I find the muse to do so.
If there's someone out there with a good idea for that, please comment!!!
420

You’ll know it—as you know ’tis Noon—
By Glory—
As you do the Sun—
By Glory—
As you will in Heaven—
Know God the Father—and the Son.

By intuition, Mightiest Things
Assert themselves—and not by terms—
ā€œI’m Midnightā€ā€”need the Midnight say—
ā€œI’m Sunriseā€ā€”Need the Majesty?

Omnipotence—had not a Tongue—
His listp—is Lightning—and the Sun—
His Conversation—with the Sea—
ā€œHow shall you knowā€?
Consult your Eye!
As due by many titles I resign
My self to Thee, O God; first I was made
By Thee, and for Thee, and when I was decayed
Thy blood bought that, the which before was Thine;
I am Thy son, made with Thy Self to shine,
Thy servant, whose pains Thou hast still repaid,
Thy sheep, thine image, and, till I betrayed
My self, a temple of Thy Spirit divine;
Why doth the devil then usurp on me?
Why doth he steal, nay ravish that’s thy right?
Except thou rise and for thine own work fight,
Oh I shall soon despair, when I do see
That thou lov’st mankind well, yet wilt not choose me,
And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.
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