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The Ancient of the Days,
can you see what he is wearing,
Cardinal shoes made of children’s skin
wrung out from the veins
Last drop of blood that remains
overflowing tankers

Come through the secret bunkers
Descend to the underground
To the cities of gold
The gardens in diamonds adorned
Hotels palatial
Death camps infernal
Where thousands of children abducted
Cry in the clutches of the devil

They will invite you to dine
Pour adrenalin into your wine
Baby roast on the menu
Bones burning in the fireplace just for you

They will forever be returning
Rejuvenated with blood, rejoicing
to walk among men in shoes of cardinal skin
Stepping over dead bees just the same
Compassion they’ll say is their name
Whilst from those cities underground
From their laboratories
Millions of bacteria and viruses
Are killing your world mercilessly

The poles and icebergs they are melting away
Torrents will bring you to dismay
Tsunami will crumble the cities to ruins
Earthquake will shatter graves and dreams
Everything you have they will turn to dust
Drought will ablaze crops to crust
Of hunger millions will die
Poisons are raining from the sky

To the bones of children cast thy eye
to the bottom of the sea where they lie
look inside the savage eyes,
yearning for demise
gleaming with innocence
of the fallen victims’ cries

The Ancient of the Days can you see
The Heavens are yearning for equity
Without the soul void is poetry
Let the world,
That endures the humiliation silently
Frightened of camps and lethality
- be free.

Saša Milivojev

Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska
We are married to pain.
A harrowing relationship of toxicity.
A forever maelstrom of “why me”.
Look at you, begging for death to come earlier than planned.
It’s like staring at the knife to do the deed for you.
It’s like feeling grief for the first time with no solace.
It’s like choking on your own ***** while gasping for air.
ill with sorrow.
Knotted with no release.
Kissing the barrel of a gun.
Lust with no body to touch.
You are sick, you never get better, but they say it gets better, trust me it gets better.
Glass in your mouth, cutting your cheeks every time you force a smile.
It’s the bottom of an empty bottle that didn’t drown your feelings.
An emptiness of a bottomless abyss.
A sinking hole in a heart that’s decaying.
Seeing in black and white in a place full of color.
Numbness like the anesthesia you beg for so you don’t feel, can’t cry, can’t hurt.
It’s forever, it’s now, and tomorrow and tonight, for hours, and months, and days.
It never ends, it never stops.
Pain until you see black.
Pain until people cry over your lifeless body.
Pain until crows pick at your flesh.
Pain until you rot.
Pain until life stops.
And then pain creeps into the lives of those who cared for you, now they feel the pain.
Pain is a disease.
Pain is torment.

Tell me again, what did I do to deserve perpetual torture?
Ave Maria Jun 6
What is there left, when humanity can no longer ensue? When our kind is wiped off the face of Mother Earth? Will the planet be destroyed itself from the sun, or from our own foolish actions? Or will the earth instead remain with our souls tied to it as we wander aimlessly, our ashes permeating within the dirt? How many places will our souls be within? Heaven and earth together? Will the animals be with us in spirit or in a different realm? Will a new kind be brought forth, or perhaps a new planet?
If only
I was
able to
the wounds
you hold
deep in
you with
the touch
of my
for now,
I only
but, do
you not
they are
not enough,
only you
There was so much
left unsaid
words hung in the air
suspended in the silence
Stuck in my mind
I wish I had said it
all. Now they emerge
not words anymore,
but regrets.

Those words unsaid
hang in the silence
now not words, just regrets.
Mrs Timetable May 21
Your voice
Deep soft tone
Is a comfort
Puts me to rest
The man voice
I never had
As a child
To read to me
Or even miss
Now I have my own
Who knew how badly
I needed this gift
One of my favorite things is when he reads to me
𝙶𝙽𝙶 May 17
𝔄 𝔡𝔯𝔦𝔣𝔱𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔠𝔢𝔞𝔫,
𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔰𝔞𝔩𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫.
𝔄𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔨𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔟𝔶𝔢,
𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔴𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔟𝔶,
ℑ𝔱 𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱,
𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔪 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫.
𝔏𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢𝔰 𝔟𝔢,
𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔰𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔯 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔢𝔩𝔡𝔰.
ℑ𝔱’𝔰 𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔲𝔭 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔪 𝔞𝔫𝔡
𝔗𝔥𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔭𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶.
𝔏𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔰,
𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱.
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔞𝔳𝔶, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔯𝔦𝔣𝔱𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔴𝔫
𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰
𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱
𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔩𝔢𝔡
𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔬𝔣 𝔡𝔞𝔴𝔫.

ℑ𝔱 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔩𝔶 𝔡𝔯𝔦𝔣𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔞𝔶.

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔰𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔡𝔩𝔶 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰,
“ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔢”
𝔄𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯,
𝔏𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔰 𝔬𝔲𝔱.
ℑ𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔪,
𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔡𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔰
𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔨𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔡𝔯𝔶 𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔡 𝔩𝔦𝔭𝔰.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖜𝖔𝖔𝖉, 𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖎𝖙 𝖇𝖊 𝖒𝖊
𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖊,
𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖈𝖊𝖆𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊,
𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊.
𝕴’𝖑𝖑 𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖊𝖆𝖗,
𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖕𝖘 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖞 𝖜𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙.
𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒.
𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖇𝖊,
𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖊.
When the love starts to fade...and begin to reminisce. As weak as that love feels, it's there, you just have to poke the fire and add some wood. Give it some lovin' and surely you'll find warmth.
I appreciate the read.
© 2 years ago, snoW
Leah Carr May 8
Deep, deep down
Where no-one's ever been
Hide dark, dark waters
Of tears unseen
Far from below
I hear my own, muffled screams
Of when you all turned
and hurt me
I like the way you say my name.
It’s the only resonance I need as I lay alone in the onyx night.
I miss you the most when I feel insignificant.
Maybe just maybe, you’ll think of me when I’m not around.
Maybe you’ll remember how much you aroused my heart.
I cherished you more than I did my own sanity.
Mark Wanless Apr 21
no coincidence
deep mind manifestation
and the world moves on
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