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Pax Apr 20
Sins, bites on your conscience
          never to your convenience.
       No salvation, No revelations.
               Unblessed the lucky
       bottomless becomes your destiny
and darkness laments, it’s quite cloudy
     wavy timelines, weary crimes
                   Brooking our doom
                  creating thy tomb
                   as deaths looms.
this was me playing with words. Yet as always there is hidden truth and meaning behind my play. I guess this is me cursing to those who are lucky enough to have sinned and get away with it. As in every truth, sins is also subjective to survival, so we should be careful who to blame.
Mark Wanless Jul 2023
i saw a devil
dog on the rotisserie
at a convenience store
Vera City May 2020
Oh! Alexa... hi..
I didnt mean to wake you
Please go back to sleep
Isaac May 2020
What if there was no rush?
Only an infinity of time
To discover the world
And all you could do.
But that is simply not true.
We all head to our grave
Minute by passing minute
Year by passing year
Just because this is so,
Is it wise to rush?
Or wiser to take your time
And let your roots grow deep
Soaking in the richness
Of an Earth that has seen many generations.
It is only then we truly live
And not drift like dead wood
Afloat a windy river
That leads to a long drop over a waterfall.
Let's establish ourselves,
And become a true part
Of this magical world.
Fashion yourself into this work of art.
Engrave your essence into the bedrock of history.
Don't allow the wind of this generation
To disanchor your heart.
Let your grip tighten
Into the realms of future and past
For they can be easily forgotten
Among the nagging realities of today
And the constant worries of the present week.
Are we allowed to drop the shallow,
And explore the deep waters?
The unknown exists.
It welcomes the rarest souls
Into its hidden chambers.
But who dares to go there?
Who cares to go there
When the colourful attractions
Of previous discovery shine all around you?
Convenience the wall that guards the masses
From the hidden worlds that lay beneath.
Written 9th May 2020
Wither Bloodfall Apr 2020
That’s all i need to say to make something stop
Why care for the things that once mattered in the past
When the ones that mattered in the past didn’t come to last
Honestly, it ***** to ****
We live this life with no breaks nor shortcuts
Suicide is simply an illogical solution
Doing so would diminish my own resolution
I’m growing tired and brittle
I may not be old but i’m hollow
No, not to be edgy in any matter
I wouldn’t care if you went and bantar
If you view me having the lack to emotion
Somewhat of a form of entertainment
I wouldn’t blame you
I invite you to do it
Know that I’ll give no reinvigoration
For your own amusement.
Thebeau Jan 2020
I looked into your eyes and I saw the future.
You sparkled of joy and happiness and,
Everything that I wanted from life was here,

But suddenly soon it had dissappeared,
Memories and love had cleared,
When love itself had ceased to appear,
I knew right then that pain was near,

You'd look into MY EYES and say,
That you were happy nothing's changed,
But nothing wasn't nothing dear,
Nothing then was something to fear,

But I was caught up and deeper I dug,
Between all of the kisses and hugs,
My love for you was my only drug,
The only song I'd ever sung,

Soon I began to notice the distance,
At the stop signs, no longer kisses,
Nothing had changed of whom I adored,
Were you the risk and not the reward?

The next part happened all too fast,
When into depression my mind relapsed,
When I couldn't remember who I was,
Any of the reasons why or because,

You left me stranded oh so alone,
This house stopped feeling like a home,
You only loved me at convenience to you,
So now I wonder, was any of it true?
Susana Oct 2019
Should you find the most convenient way of breathing
It will not
make you
more alive
Kaiden A Ward Jun 2019
is that of convenience.
Its symptoms of ignorance and apathy
breed a system of cruelty
fueled by corruption.
Poetic T Jan 2019
For one to write about me, would be a
          concussion of optimistic reflections.
My words conceal intentionally
                 inner reflections that even
I haven't gazed upon.

I'm a fragment of a picture wrote upon,
             but then bleached with new horizons
                                    that are neither rising or setting.  

Conclusions of my thoughts are like a hurricane in
    the confines of a daisy.
Bright but the beauty never
really placed singularly
                but chained together
in a forced marriage of convenience.

I'm neither what one would expect
or the conclusion of a vast dissection
         to collect
                evidence to my meaning and function.
I'm a verse that moves further than
                             when the words finish finitely.
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