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While I was staring into the heavens,
A vast storm came through the Galaxy.

Throughout the city,
there had been
rumors of a mega galactic cloud,
A star raiser;
A mother of the cosmos.
And unknown elements were colliding
with moonless planets
In her great ****.

And there I was,
Too Weak
to break the skin of galaxies.
I traveled,  
Adrift in the presence of chasmic cliffs,
where the great cloud was eating planets,
  in the dark.
I heard a rumble from her swollen ****;
The resonance of which ripped
The page of days apart--
and the sky spilled
Everything dark,
Down into the trembling earth.

I stopped existing..
I couldn't  hear anything;
no, quiet vibrations of my own voice in my head,
And every second was sore;
each one expiring at birth,
An incarnation of the beaten silence.

I could not move.
My thoughts,
were in chaos.
I didn't know if my eyes,
were open
Or closed,
I forgot my name.
the name the almighty, gave me.
A name...
whispered by raindrops,
Written in my blood.

And even so,
as I drifted;
I heard someone whispering in the darkness,
saying:

"Because the Almighty knew,
that darkness despised light,
and challenged his power,
he hid the lowliest light (stars),
in places far from heaven.
And the galaxies,
that consumed the stars
that the almighty named;
They, were erased from the universe!
Not one remained,
in all of the immensity!"

Awakened,
I waited...for the
Ageless clouds,
And though I knew
That once a raindrop whispers
A name, never again would it fall
from the lips of a storm,
Still,
I am listening.
Listening
for the names
Of the others,
Once I hear them,
  I will search
The wild, raging world
To find them...
I will tell them,
How this world is not their home.
Then,
I will whisper the names,
To each...
His own.
And once they have spoken their names aloud,
They will remember,
everything that men have forgotten,
And they will help me,
Remember my name
And it will succor me,
So that,
without fear;
I may,
make a stand
For the almighty,
Against the sons of the night,
In these days of war.
Monika 7h
I´m in love...

Attracted to the man,
whose deeds have changed.

Behind the angelic face
rests the cruel truth;

There were signs of warning,
along the way,  
I should have seen them.

Even he himself
tried to protect me from falling.

But I never listened.  
Being blinded by his charms
that remained.

Even the devil was once an angel...

It´s a perfect irony
because he once fell too.

And landed in ****,
instead of heaven.
This might be his second fall.
Philomena 22h
I don't understand why you
Love a freak like me
Play with fire
Dance with the devil

You took the monster out from under your bed
And Invited it under the covers

And sure i'm warm
And I feel safe and loved like I never have before
But I don't understand
Why you love a freak like me
Don't you hate it when 2 am you makes you question regular you, and then regular you begins to question everything around you and then you're thinking about this **** and not your final exams and yea...
Mya 2d
sometimes I feel like a failure
Whenever I feel like I like someone
They show no interest
I always end up feeling like nothing
I think the more I get rejected
The more I listen to the devil on my shoulder
Instead of the angel
But when one boy shows interest
I abandon the devil
Yet it only lasts for so long
when it ends the devil on my shoulder says
"I told you to never fall for anyone ever again or you'll get hurt"
and somehow I feel comforted when I hear that
I feel the little devil sitting on my shoulder
is always there for me
He is the can of Red Bull shaking in my hand.
At first sip he does nothing for me,
but then he slowly begins to take effect.
My heart accelerates,
my breathing quickens,
And I soon slip into the next world.
I feel like I’m floating whenever he’s in my system.
My feet are several inches from the ground,
and my head is in the clouds,
and I can’t seem to come down from this high he left me with.

She is the flag adorning my bedroom wall.
A memory fabricated from the ocean,
the stars,
shopping trolleys,
and the sound of fabric being torn at the seams.
She cannot be wiped from my mind,
nor can all the nights we’ve spent together.
Not that I would ever wish to forget about them.

I am the wordless demon that haunts their every waking hour.
The one who dreams of them with ardour,
and the one whose words come across as too strong.
I have been told I bat my eyes too often
and that my smiles occasionally seem more than just friendly.
I have been told that my touch is too tender,
and my motives are too selfish.
I have been told that I am the devil.
sushii 4d
when my eyelids close
you flit away
again today

when the sky darkens
the devil unburdens
giving all his sorrow to me behind the curtains

when the night is deep
the angels sleep
and with their consciousness goes the secrets they keep

when it begins to rain
it marks the return of the pain
eating away at my brain

when you hear the start of the etude
on comes the solitude
and you find it awfully rude

and when i'm done writing this poem
the colors will fade away
all of the hope sinking into the gray
for when it's typed and i can lock the box and put it away
i will have to return to a day of dismay
ómra 4d
For I have seen the face of ***-- eyes averted, looking away. He does not want to see what my child's eyes have seen, does not want to know of what hands have known my skin.

He is ashamed in the way of those who have born witness to some awful deed and not done all that they could do to stop it. If it is not within ***'s power or agenda to help a child, what great *** can he be?

Even the Devil, in his wickedness, does not deign to save a child from pain not deserving to a little girl. If this is the truth of the world-- that horrid, preventable evils may occur to the most innocent amongst us-- then truly, how merciful can this *** be?

What point is there in striving to be by the side of a *** who is so callous, so uncaring-- why deify such a cruel being? Perhaps he is out there, indeed it is likely, but I want no part of him-- he does not want me, tainted as I am.

He disowned me that night when he turned away from my desperation, my cry for help. If he does not want me for what was done to me, so be it-- I do not want him either.

When I arrive outside of his Pearly Gates, he will fall to his mighty knees and beg my forgiveness. I do not think that I will give it.
Skyler 5d
bad men doing bad things
that’s common; ordinary
unremarkable.

it’s when good men
do evil deeds
that the devil smiles.
Shea 6d
The devil plays
With idle hands,
And makes them do the devils dance.
For this I hardly stand a chance,
Cause my idle hands have begun to dance.
The devil met me in the street
Beneath a lamp post glow
He taught me to only reap
whatever I could sow

He taught of wrong and right
He taught the way of life
He taught me not to trust the ones
Who follow in faith blind

I met the devil in the street,
Beneath a lamp post glow
He said to doubt all that I see
Choose my own way to go
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