You said it might be a bit uncomfortable
That it feels like a little scratch
Or perhaps it's like a bee sting
But then you start to latch
My **** into something
Described as a gentle squeeze ....
But I wish that you'd be honest
And just tell me please
Your ***** I'm going to pummel
Stick them with 8 inch pins
Crush them into vices
Then hammer iron nails in
And then when you've reached
The end of your tether
I'll smile sweetly & tell you
You might feel under the weather .....!!
Well the lies they don't help
In any way or fashion
It wouldn't **** you, you know
To show me some compassion
Well I tell you what
Here's my little joke
I'm going to punch you in the face
It'll feel like a gentle stroke ....!

(C) Pixievic




(C) Pixievic

Let go of those old fears
That have somehow battled through the trenches of time
You've fought gruesome wars at night
For so many kaleidoscope years
Laying awake with the noise outside your pane
As the only tune to your madness
The civilian lives lost
The once-spirited homes burned to rubble
All to conquer the infantry of bombarding thoughts
That have emerged victorious for ages at the first light of the sun
A daring blow must be delivered to such malice
The respirating breath of triumph
Must grace the muggy walls of your lungs  
That sunrise must burn the awakening
Of all your ambitions and conquests
And you can rise from your slumber just nigh of death
As a warrior who will flatten what monstrous fights now may come
And when the moon shows his face
And the stars light his eternal shadow
You can step out into the wild
Adorned in the fruits of your courage
Let go of those old fears
That have somehow battled through the trenches of time

In God’s beautiful budding garden,
There lays blossoming flowers.
              
Some are ruby roses; some are delicate daisies or just tender tulips,
But they all are faultless and
Grasp sunlight everyday.

They all were planted the same but,
Some expired early and,
Some are never seen as lovely or pure.

But there is this one flower that seems beautiful,
But is fading a bit everyday inside,
It never gets a brush of sunshine and perhaps that’s why it’s slowly vanishing.

The flower stands in solitude, in God’s massed garden,
Because although the flower ages with the others,
It’s also turning somber.

The flower stays stable and takes deep breaths until one day…
In God’s beautiful garden there lays a shriveled up flower in the corner,
For all the rest to neglect and continue being God’s beautiful blossoming flowers.