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an egregious
man in
his crass
distortion and
tout with
his distinction
upon his
indignation that
steward frugally
with his
abstraction and
that rather
their abreaction
is dare
his buck
tow in
this rec.
assort the derby first
waffle iron sessions wire dire
and aloofness doubt
anyone here
that caught this black
gem but
goose lurid quake that hot potato flip witness
that gaff and orient law
in so far as probe
that mound
these overt operations
an official notice
a stately
lacquer there
that dance
would wax
*** in
this donor
but wore
queerish charms
that made
an alarm
on her
border which
drew horse
with wish
of stoning
ice in
this accordance
a note on immagration
Mystic Ink Plus Apr 2018
Based on all evidences and witness
And revised act of 2018
This Court
Acknowledges your big day
and wants to,
wish you happy B’day

“Stay blessed
Stay free”
The Jury said.
Genre: Fiction
Theme: The jury’s last words decide the future. There is a single decision between a totally different life.  What if  judgement be filled with kind words, what if jury find a hundreds way to decide letting one to improve, not just to punish.
where it
made me
that tried
her and
mattered in
court that
toiled with
ritual today
where drama
drawn there
was righteous
in the
moment of
essay when
a decision
to liaison
the archer
A seesaw
pale you
with my truth
guide your head
through this noose
listen
to
the
let me's

they are running
through
the breeze

battle pens drawn
mystery
colors
blue

are
violins playing on

march me to school
teach'er
me
to
read
bind me with fools
as
the
fowl
plant
the seed

mother never pretended
they were always ****** me

my flesh was there scented
in
this
hells
reality

let me close my eyes
let us begin to dream
let me clear your mind
as
we
correct this scream

back here
in
the
womb
we find it
rather
warm
they never knew
they were chewing
on
my
arm

why can't they see
if
the
third
times an charm
they had better
watch me

?



















...
..
.
drive that
to
your
...
..
.
Cyrus Gold Jan 2018
From the void that beckons,
we see that heaven's near,
but the darkness that engulfs us
keeps our cries from shedding tears

The rain would fall and cleanse the Earth
so the people praised it well
The castle walls had heard its song
right as midnight struck its bell

But when she cast infinity
the rain hadn't had its fill
so sadly clouds were forced to flee
yet the days grew* darker still

Pluck the wings of ravens
to prevent the coming flood
The ones who offer haven
let their fingers run with blood

The Court was born to trim the herd
who swear to Ravenswood
They seek the one ill-fated girl
to restore our land for good

'Cause when she cast infinity
the Earth was standing still
Her soul can harm eternity
as the days grow
darker still

Believers of their noble cause
shall be met with open arms
They only seek to halt the pause
by the grace of love and harm

Putrid souls are sacrificed
for the weakness that they show
The Court shall welcome crimson tides
as their looming shadows grow

'Cause when she cast infinity
it was nature that she killed,
but now the Court will set us free
Advent days are
*brighter still.
Prologue to a multi-part series I wrote.
my nexus is Taft
in delight of "Bouquet of Flowers"
that inner vision of democracy
that popular work for peace is pastel
only ludicrous is thought that foreshadow him
as memory in recall thus  prosperity
while conservative intent with Supreme Court
Odilon Redon was a French artist in surrealism while major and latter  works included pastels especially of flowers.
Middy Sep 2017
“ why would he do that? “ the victim’s mother screamed.

Saltwater tears fell to the wooden floor.

Silence for a moment.
Then speech from the witness.

” I don’t know! I just saw him with ****** hands! “

I took a long look at the man whom they call ‘ the criminal ‘.

He had a smirk on his face
He said nothing
But I knew what he was saying

“ what other proof do we have aside from the witnesses? “ I enquired.

“ a woman saw him in a shop, stealing a knife and slipped it in his belt. “

“ and I recognise him from a picture on a trophy shelf. “

Silence again.

The sentence comes
The volcano erupts
He explodes
He yells
He pleads
Nothing can convince the guards
Who have no mercy or heart
The guns of the firing squad
The holder of ropes
The press of a button

Silence
We take our leave
I get home
More silence
Knock knock
No one is home

I let out the sigh I held in
I take a glass of sweet whisky
I sleep.
I dream of ****** hands,
A knife in a belt
And a wanted poster on a trophy shelf.
In the perspective of the judge in Was It Worth it?
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