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OJ Apr 13
Deep under the ocean
Of Sinful ambitions
Lie the fears I hide away
The storms inside are always there
My nightmares take flight
Let me not suffer alone

If I should be sent away
May the sun and moon
guide me back

I had fortune and power
Admiration wasn't my plan
Feared I was before
How the tides have turned
My spirit rots, my veins burn

I never loved them, but they were mine
Though we shared a space
Dare I show myself once more
And return to fighting for worthless trust

Curse my past actions
I have changed
I'd say

Yet here I am trying to take back what was mine
Behind closed doors
I have plotted my revenge on you

I will step forth
Who needs cooperation when you have plans for cessation
I don't need riches, fame pleasure
My soul has wandered
And yet I've grown stronger

They will follow me through the thunder inside
I will tear them asunder

Deep beneath the ocean
Of sinful ambitions
Will soon lie their fears of me
Mark Wanless Sep 2019
i bow at the alter in
the church of imperfection
and pray softly here again
in storm of life confusion
the first line was the inspiration
pa3que Aug 2019
Marie, took some fresh baked goods,
set her sail through blood-curdling  woods,
in search of a one who hearts can alter.
her heart broke a man,
and so with sedan,
she seeked the one who’d scrap her falter.

to prevail over cold,
she took some gold,
to pay the one who hearts can alter.
she traveled sad,
but reached a nomad,
who claimed “i’m the one who hearts can alter.”

he was a fraud,
very sharp-clawed,
he stole her gold and then he paltered.
took his leave,
with a thieve,
after saying “Marie, your heart is altered.”

“Oh, Marie naive,
do you still grieve?”
the nomad was actually a salter,
see in this ground,
there’s not around,
a single soul that hearts can alter.
Nylee Mar 2019
What is buried so deep inside
A memory so entwined
many lines and differing angles
The same frame can be seen
Differently with different lenses
Different outcome for every scene
Can alter all the things
And I would not remain
as the person I am
It was the 7th day when evil invaded our skins, God resting as they wrestle to pull a trigger of genesis, the big bang felt like a genocide,
on this day the altar was on fire.
Brynn S Nov 2018
Tracerene
Conclude the dream
Dew melt my eyes as a suken scene
Soft spoken words pour from your lips
With bones of greetings how often our slips
Gaze and grasp
Each night to pass
I follow you to heaven
Lift me to the ceilings of above
Paint me unto the walls of love
Grasp the two sides of the bodice
Reach to me closer, call me the goddess
Place unto the petals, leave me your alter
With breaths intertwined movements cease to falter
Eyes melt into one sight
Share with me our night

Loves together in a single moment
Kelidoscopes of rosed colors tint
Small traces to guide the hint
This is my moment to share, racing thoughts bleed into the air
Sara Kellie Oct 2018
Religion is Recruiting for
Customer Complaints.
Where is my God, the disciples
and all the absent saints?
The time I have invested
sitting in your church.
This wasn't in your advert
you've left me in the lurch.
I'm asking for a refund,
you've years to reimburse
and then there is the funeral,
the flowers and the hearse.

I've sat on your pew,
spent time praying to you
and now that I'm dead,
I'm unsure what to do.
I should have known better,
you never replied.
Yet I kept the faith
until the day that I died.

Now I queue to complain,
I must be ******' insane!
because,
well,
you don't even exist!

Poetry by Kaydee.
On the first day, man created God.
K Balachandran Oct 2018
Western sky canvas.
Two skydiving birds alter,
The dynamics !
A Simillacrum Sep 2018
Arrested.
A Windsor knot
binds my
fickle neck
to my dour
shoulders.
Plastic ties
elegant wrists
in pair.

One question:
Head up or down?

I lied.

Another question.
Atop a question.

Am I

headed up or down?
Give me redemption
or else,
how can I ignore it?

One bedroom.
An eager clock,
minutes
from my set,
or expected
The End,
happily
leaves me to my
routine.

One question:
Head up or down?

I lied.

Another question.
Atop a question.

Am I

headed up or down?
Give me freedom
or else,
how can I ignore it?

Can I really be who I want?
Can I really be what I mean?

Will I ever solidify?
Will I ever come to?

And who will come?

(. . .)
astiani hayn Sep 2018
I'm nothing but a silenced laugh,
I breath fire smells a fantasy bougainville,
I speak cursed sounds a soothing lullaby,
Honey, I'm your foe, and you know me as amigo,
I'm bleeding of lies, betrayal–a vicious sinner,
And this skin-deep will last until you realize,
I'm a ****** retaliation dressed in devotion.
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