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Cloaked wings fuel feeds

Tongue loaded flint locked bullets

Eve stuck to her leaf
Stick to your instincts you probably right
Harley Hucof Feb 7
I can never respect people who take decisions for others,
Omni present child wearing adolecence .

People must never assume they have all the answers
When you play the role of the actors
Idealising philosophies and mystic factors
You judge, aware of your sorrow bearers
And with each sin, a silent look, and a feather
Torn apart to make it clearer
That he whom survives is repressed
While the new trend is depressed
Yet somehow i still picture you in your white dress,
And the voice i talk to you with
Is mine,
but you are not me
So how can i define
The slips and fissures of your subconcsious mind
And thirst to be free.

To each his field and angles
And if **** is heaven
i am still the devil

Words Of Harfouchism
People judge people who judge people who judge who etc..
Christopher Jul 2018
Every morning
I'm enjoying.
Evenings may vary.
But my tanks take care of me.

I shift them both 180 degrees,
Usually they know it means one of two things.
It's time to clean or secure.

But for some reason, one breaks my order.

Slowly shifting towards east, his platoon knows something wrong.
Slowly cause he doesn't wanna raise the heat.
Cause if one sees him too undone,
That's one to not be seen.

Unfortunately a time comes where two has to go back to zero.
Not cause it's time to sleep, not trust me.
They still do protect me after these.

One stays at 90 regardless of what I say.

While I appreciate it, you gotta understand what I'm saying cause I'm done, no more cold ones. It's freezing and I can't take no more. Just turn off.
Just a twist of a **** I wish.

We'll continue our routine tomorrow...

Charlie One: 0° E  Hotel Two: At ease. You've done enough for me.
More entendres than you could see...choose which one you think I'm speaking of.
Like Tyler Joseph said "A kitchen sink to you is not a kitchen sink to me...okay friend?"
Montay Henson Apr 2017
I've seen this one angel hanging in town
she dances and sings and spreads happiness around
she's kind and funny and unique
She bathes me in light every time we meet
She grips my hand and walks with me down the street
this angel isn't mine, but she knows what I need
she knows my angles and shows them to me
she read the lines that I am hiding closely
she heats me up and melts me slowly
She brings  the light when the night is lonely
And when I look at her eyes I swear they're glowing
I know they're knowing I can see her probing
It's not easy hiding from these angles she's bringing
I want to speak, but the words are tainted
My brain is jumbled and my thoughts scream faintly
I know I'm being a selfish brat
Is it my fault that I can be myself with you?
Is my my fault that your essence is addicting?
what angle do I need to see to see you being an angel over just me?
Haven't made anything in a long time, something happened recently that made me need a release of my feelings and thoughts and well, here it is.
Michael Lechner Feb 2017
When the sun
in your eyes
and you greet
the morning
with a smile
may the angels
bend low
to take notice
and the demons
crawl back
into their pit
For never
had anyone
such grace
or ever
such beauty
since that first
bright dawning
of creation

© Michael Lechner
Dawn Treader Dec 2016
Jaggedly pieced together
We're fragmented beautifully
Oddly, this love fits
my attempt at a  10 word poem. Love can work if you work out the angles.
ISHA Nov 2016
Only a wolfs eye can see the scars of the broken, and only the chosen can feel the pain of the broken scars.
Aditi Kumar Feb 2016
Go outside.
Because outside is where the beasts lay.
They'll run with you all the way,
In such a sprint that you never tire
Or lose your breath
Or shiver your legs
At all.

Outside is where the sharp angles rest.
Deep cuts in straight lines, red blood dripping like rain,
And stones that have been cracking for centuries but never broken.

The great outdoors, that's where the fairies live.
They'll love you like you never knew love before.
It's the raw lips that kiss the roughest,
The calloused hands that hold on the tightest.
The rock-kissed fingers, they're designed to never let go.

Soft lips bruise. Mountainous lips live on forever.

Supple skin burns. Hard-cut edges light the flame in the sunrise.

Well-rounded means spoiled. Raw spirits mean earning the spoils.
Nature is telling us that we are not built for comfortable lives. We belong with our brothers, the wolves. We need to light the flames in each other to fight the wind. We need to be brash.
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