Seema 3h

I envy for that, forever sleep
That comes up naturally
From which I wish, I do not wake
In which I lose myself totally
So deeply drowned
Even a thought can not reach
My brain a frozen vacuum
Nothing to it, you can teach
But these eyes do not sleep
The doors to my brain,
Are always active and awake
Only to watch these eyes rain
The aches and pain soothes
My delicate, withered body
A touch brings me shivers
But with me, there is nobody
I crave for that everlasting love
That oneday I'd be an apple
In the eyes of somebody
But it seems it's too late
To takecare of my own body
Weak and paralyzed
Covered in shroud likes sheets
I hear the whispers of death
Far beyond,
...............counting on my beats!


skye 7h

isn't it weird how nothing really exists? that we don't know what's real and what's fake and what our minds have crafted and what's concrete and whether anything exists because maybe this whole world is made up and i'm the absolute center of this world because this is my universe.
i'm not very good at making worlds.

we're the center of our lives. we don't know what exists. for all we know this could be made up. i don't know if you even really exist.
Seema 8h

Permit, what my heart desires to say
In shadows of my eyelashes, it invites you to stay
Grant me a favour, O' prince of my realm
It's your love, I only wish to claim
In love I've fallen with you
The feelings embrace me, like I never knew
You taught me to laugh and smile again
And listened to all my past and pain
Don't grieve for my tears that flow
Let me drown in this love real slow
Complete my life or destroy this dream
Love is all I know, coz love is supreme
If death hugs me, even then the blessings we'll employ
The ashes will fly with a loud cry of joy
This love's agony - please let me bear!
I wish not to leave, I would never ever dare
Coz, in love I've fallen with you my dear
A broken dream, is all that I fear...


I have no noise to make
with nothing, but little to gain,
in a world of material simulation,
I weep for the death
of God.

Reason has no quarter,
no mournful lesson.
Faith has no hope to
serve the trinity of Man.

(1) Meaningless presence;
(2) folly without consequence;
(3) ubiquitous treachery
lurking from every

Unsheathe thine sword!
Please the Lord! Endlessly.
With mercy through death
and Christmas and sex.
Seduction and presents
devoid of Presence.
Catharsis without
gnosis as Hallmark
Cards disarm

There is no home
in the hearts of wicked evildoers,
nor in the heart of the archetypal Harlot
whom an army of orphans
follow to the end of history,
into the horizon of the non-event
and a world fractured by
infinite regress, chaos,
and resent.

Blessed art thou who have faith
for they shall be subsumed by
a social force so ungodly and
so covered in filth that he is
authenticated by this corruption
conceived of worldly conviction
and invoked for material evil.
Blessed are those who skirmish with the age,
who explode pathological certitude,
who war with the times quietly
with (s)words so powerful
that no soul could bear
the poison.

I have no noise to make.

Silence alone
thus spoke
to shake
the soul
of man.

To spell the end
so all can see
the sword
the blessed
and the damned.

In the end
the world returns
to the Mother
of Chaos
back into the
depths of feminine crush
into the pain filled horrors
that almost never were
but eternal in their
finite existence
fixated by
masculine power
nuclear radiation
liberates flesh
bound soul
into static
the scene.

In life, the two noble powers, Birth and Death

Whose balanced struggle is catalyst for the rest

Birth starts a life that it's Death's job to take

With Birth's son, Love, and Death's son Pain

Companions to hold until dust in a grave

There once was a power who ruled beneath

He'd steal the lost and smite the weak

He held man's life in his cold, cruel grasp

Without a moment of light to last

He'd visit the people, a harbinger sans ruth

Bringing news of a barren, hideous truth

Then steal away, fast as shadow rolls

Bringing with him expired human souls

Death was ruthless, death was cold

Death had no problems with himself to behold

He reveled in sadness, he thrived in blood red

He garnered his power from tears, victims shed

Then one day, a golden beam of light

The one golden ray that Death cannot smite

A soft light beam was born at the crack of dawn

And Death felt something he knew was wrong

The baby girl, such a small babe

She grew up in safety, out of Death's way

But Death could not keep away from her for long so light

He had to see her, be near her, so he visited her one night

He took not the girl, for then he could not even hope

But instead, her mother, whose thread of life he cut the rope

And the girl was saddened, desolate she cried

But Death couldn't find it in him to allow her to die

So he saved his visit to her for the last one he brings

Visiting her father and brother next he came, slicing her heart-strings

But the girl became depressed and wished not for him

But instead she pulled the dagger out on a hopeless whim

The pain was too much for her to await her Death's part

She pulled the knife out and held it over her heart

She took her own life and robbed Death of his visit such

And she passed to forever, without Death having one touch

Maria Imran Jun 23

These past few years I have seen and learned 'letting go' in a lot of forms:
In the deafening roar of a train leaving your lonely figure past, past, past...
a father on his bed taking last, tortured breaths
or friends you used to meet everyday but are no longer there when you're crying your nights away
and grudges, leaving them only so you'd feel lighter, if not fuller, again
letting go of a lot of things except
you. Your memory doesn't leave.

“Maybe that’s worse, not letting ourselves be loved. Because we’re too afraid of giving ourselves to someone we might lose.”

They spent the day
eating t.v. dinners;
she had Hungry Man,
he had Kid Cuisine.

Grandma changed the channel
from Middle-Class Meltdown to
an 80's cartoon about robotic bears.
And he said, Grandma, this is scary
- so she turned it to a show with
pre-teen children and vanilla jokes.

The sun melted into orange and purple,
spilling over the horizon like melted sorbet.
Surroundings purged a different dark.
Shadows stuck more than usual, she noticed.
The Lurking was present, even if she didn't
quite understand what it was or where.

A few days passed, where she could
feel malevolence nip at the heels of her home.
She remembered her daughter,
at a recital, dancing with grace --
this helped her fall asleep.

She remembered the phone ring,
radiating a green hue, stating
words she didn't understand.
Answering it. This helped her
wake up.

Isabella 16h

My father’s cousin
Died just days
after planting tulips
Purple red yellow and orange
Scattering the yard with bulbs
To burst through the earth
Come next spring
When he knew he would not be here to see them
Fore he knew of his coming death
They have told him frank
The cancer its terminal
They had told him to do enjoy
And Every day he must have seen his body
In the mirror
Growing gaunt
And weak
with his wife not at home
He planted 200 flowers
A going away present
And that same day
His body gave
Tremors and shakes
A seizure turned to coma
Which turned to the closing of his eyes
And the silent tears of his wife

Two years later
I saw her at a reunion
She spoke fondly of the tulips
How beautiful they are
How they remind her of him
And his love for her
She is with someone new now
She explains
A pilot
Who treats her well
She tells me he is a great man
But with tears in her eyes
She says
he isn’t Shawn

We are standing in a church cafeteria
Surrounded by people
But I feel it is just us
As she cries
I hug her
And she cries on my shoulder
He was my best friend
It is so hard
I miss him everyday
She released me
And apologized for the tears
I told her
I understood
And I missed him too

Later that night and for years later
I have thought of them
The tulips and the tears
In that cafeteria
I have since been afraid to fall so much in love
That I wouldn’t be okay if they had to leave first
But later on
While lying in embrace
I realized that vulnerability
Is what makes love worth it

Isabella 16h

Last Night I dreamt of my dead grandmother
And the fear I felt when she was alive
Creeping through the kitchen
Quiet on the pads of my feet to not wake her
And how she would yell
When I would make noise
Sitting on the couch
That had become her home
For she could not stand on her own
and she lived there
with a blanket
watching the tv
   Who is it
And I would almost whisper
   It’s me
And she would say
  What are you doing
Accusing me of something I didn’t understand
washing my hands
but I was really trying to get a cookie from
the blue tin
And I would run out
Back into the sunlight
Out of the dark house
When she passed
We inherited those tins
And a big box of toys
Because she only ate happy meals
In those last years
Happy meals and cookies
Shouting out who is there
In the dark from the couch

Last night
I dreamt of getting married
standing at the alter
across from a man
whose face kept changing
and I couldn’t tell who he was
but we got married
me and the man with the blurry face

Last night I dreamt of a long car ride
Passing trees and corn fields
Scenes I remember from childhood
But I was Headed somewhere I didn’t know
In the back seat
With no one else in the car

Last night I dreamt of the faces
Of everyone I know
And many faces I didn’t recognize
I had heard in a class that the mind can play tricks on you
Putting things together like a puzzle
That you don’t see anything in a dream
That you haven’t somehow seen before

He said
"Your heart is like stone,
Near the river's shore.
Can only be removed from space"

How in world wonder's
Can the truth be fully told
That it was not her fault

Demons from hell
Came and went
Facing them alone

How on Earth can she say
I'm untouched at all
Demons took her soul
Left the rock all alone

How tough it is
To face all fears alone

Daily there was someone
Seeing the for his own
Nor did they had the right
Nor they had feeling at all

She was stuck upon the mast
On one to help her show greens
And she roamed in dark
Stuck there for all she had

One by one
People came to help
But what did they want most

She tried and tried them all
And you were the right one
From them all

Now you ask me
Would leaving me
Would break the stone

Dying is better than it
Here I go
So you can weep alone

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