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Zee Nov 25
I've played with demons.
As the bright light dwindled.

Got burned by their lies.
I was the moth to their flame.

Dancing with the darkness.
Without a warning sign.

It seemed chaos.
Was my only vice.

Maybe I asked for it.
Just this time.

They took me in.
They spat me out.

Made a home out of my bones.
Made me bleed with a smile.

Some would say I'm tragic.
Some would say I'm manic.

That I'd take a nightmare.
More than I'd take living.

I guess the demons in my dreams.
Are also hidden angels underneath.

As they save me from this aching reality.
David Hilburn Oct 25
Light has a language
Share the wealth...
Worth is ours, for a quaint rage
Stick out your tongue, we sake health

Waged wars, stirring a shadow
Mete and future heat
Had for arbitrary whence, when owed
Is a clash with empathy, embarrassed to seat...?

An angel at the table of anarchy
Sweet fares, sweeter charity
Marvel with mine, a dead flower is happy
Tell tale harmony, of vivid disparity...

Ought the spare, the special
Lips of virtue, we will know
Water over the bridge, and a succinct smell
Of death playing, at an imagined blow...?

Of a friend, within an eyes shadow
See me, the ironic role of breath
With a moment to decide, a gladdened more
That has bespoken the world, in a day love has let...
taint a tudie, with big ******, itsa a wild smile with a moment to look, and become a rise in the future
thepoeticwit Aug 14
freedom or chaos
two sides of the coin
held by watcher, heaven’s son
looking on earth’s face
falling for her daughter
fallen from God’s face,
disgraced by his brethren
a year and eight, too late
is this love for earth and daughter
blessing or curse, he ponders
as he revels in dust and dirt, was it worth it?
as the earth pushes him from womb, gently rejecting
ejecting into waters, rebaptised
now caught in limbo state
awaiting
the angels sing their thanks as the poor man's life is redeemed from the pit of destruction
David Hilburn Jun 26
Water flows south
If it's in love...
Dancing with the devil, is all mouth
If a sea shall, is a world, a history's covenant?

Haunt, of a need...
Eaves, with the truth's eyes?
Of an angelic lead...
Doesn't anger eat fear, from its own fineness?

Finality of a golden wouldn't
First to stare, makes the bell...
Of fate, a prettier climate, too soon a wit?
Chaste or actual pasts; is the future hell?

Have me when, has mete where?
A salt of signs, and reality of a drive
In the unknown, with a peace so fair...
A charisma should dance, until I keep silence

The price love paid for austerity...
Is ours; isn't ourselves from an adding shadow?
With a savior, of what was virginity...
Is my name for courage, a tear's promise known?
For those that notice a God that finally blew his Noah
Zywa May 20
Why aren't there angels

keeping watch, not even here --


in Los Angeles?
Novel "Shalimar the Clown" (2005, Salman Rushdie), chapter Kashmira, § 1

Collection "Low gear"
Astonishingly beautiful world spins around sun
Good and bad souls balance out
To come play with angels
Demons emerge
One needs the other
Cannot survive without
Good cannot exist without evil
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