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Nick 4h
We eat, we sleep, and we pray.
But who do we pray to?
Is it the ones who promise us salvation
but only give us disease, darkness, and blood?
Or promises of hope, love, and flair?

We starve, we wake, and we sacrifice.
But who do we sacrifice for?
For the ones who only take, take, and take,
and give not even a dime in return?
But only death, darkness, and blood.

I look at the heavens and see light,
but not lights of hope or redemption,
only lights made to blind us and bind us—
to show us we are unworthy of them, of the divine,
to make us feel like envying them is a crime.

I search wide and far for a story without any bar,
a story where they were selfless and not so afar,
a story to help us dream and reach the sky—
not act as silent observers of the moonless sky.
But all I hear are hopeless cries of mine.

Who are they to decide what we are, what I am?
Who are they to decide my fate and worth?
Who even are they, when they haven't felt the pain of existence?
only seen the suffering from their lofty thrones afar?
All I see is cruelty and worthless promises, hearts as black as tar.
I have tried to leave my mark–
Pressed my name into the trees,
only for the bark to scar
and swallow my touch.
Spoken into open air,
only for the words to fade
and sink into wind.
Let ink bleed into paper,
only for the page to thin
and crumble to dust.

The world is good at forgetting–
The rivers scatter my reflection,
the mountains shed my step in landslides,
even stars do not pause to mark my loss.
It has watched as I have swirled away
until nothing remained of my shape,
as if to whisper:
you were never really here.

Time is a slow and gentle thief–
Not cruel, not kind,
only certain.

And yet–
Somewhere, the laughter I gave
finds its way back in memory.
Somewhere, the kindness I gave
lives in the hands of another.
And somewhere, the love I gave
spreads unseen beneath the surface–
Like a stone slipping through water,
its ripples never truly gone.
Gustavo G 18h
I am weird  
Born weird  
I am the only one who sees it?  
Can I fake it?  
Can I hide it?

Everyone wears a mask.

Some hide feelings,  
Others hide desires.

But mine...  
Mine is different.

It hides not what I feel,  
Not what I want...  
But who I am.

To hide who I am:  
Differently weird.
I am weird  
Born weird  
And in the desperate urge not to be  
I tried to take another form —  
A shape made from a mold that wasn’t mine.

And the pain of not fitting into what was expected off me…  
Turned into despair.

Claustrophobic, crushed  
Inside a mold that was never made for my shape.

And the pain?  
The pain of the molds  
Was greater than the despair itself.

Still, I go on
Still…  
Weird.
I am weird  
Born weird  
Since the first breath  
Since the first blink  
I knew it.  
I felt it.  
I was… weird.

And with the weirdness  
Came the pain  
The pain of knowing  
The pain of self conscious
The pain of being... weard

And in that pain  
A cold, cruel hope—  
To change.  
Change.  
Change…



Impossible.  
Change.
One and One Equals One

I know of a being that's potentially me.
Only fractions shy of my energetic frame.
Like quantum puppets, attached at the beams.
Like watchers, observed. Opposites yet the same.

As gravity pulled his essence to earth,
New light begins forming a gleam in the mind.
I wait; I watch from behind my own eye.
I'm trapped, he's free, but neither are defined.

The real animates, a well painted vision.
The paint is too thick. His voice is too thin.
But still, this figure creates our collision,
Yet somehow never stains the glass within.

If I'd never looked, would this being exist?
If I look away, can I remain undefined?
Perhaps we're just flickering waves made of mist,
In the glare of forever, fates born to entwine.

The mind that can hear the voice that can't speak.
Echoes that invaded the boundaries of my dreams.
A quantum equation, an impossible sum.
One and one equal one, when lost in-between.
My shape is a puzzle of shattered light,
From a darkness beyond the hands of clocks.
I've floated in crystalline tears through nights,
That drowned my pulse in their quantum shocks.

Once I'd kissed the rim of my own dissolution,
My dreams became ether suspended in place.
Heard echoes from heaven of my soul's exclusion,
Banished to blackness, forbidden from grace.

But my system of nerves, interstellar threads,
Each signal, a hope that I'd lost in the fire.
They reshape the grid of my own waking dread.
I was Disconnected. My perception, unwired.

My atoms, ensnared in this love unaligned.
The flux of euphoria then glitched the code.
Chased every god who tread through my mind.
As my belief in them began to implode.

I transcended fast as a Tachyon verve,
Connecting dimensions with chords of my ache.
My being, potentialized, now unobserved.
As moments of reality shown to me, faked.

With every tremor that left a deep scar,
Is a power evolving my mind, kinetic.
I arrive in the void passed the brightest of stars.
As high, pathetically, as the hypothetic.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦  
"The Quantum Bound Poet "
𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝.
𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜;
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕’𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

𝙴𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎,
𝙸𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌, 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠.
𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎,
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠.

𝚄𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎,
𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍,
𝙸𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕, 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝙰 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔.
𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊  𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚎, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍,
𝙱𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎.
𝙰 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍,
𝙰𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎.

𝙽𝚎𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝙱𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 to 𝚏𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜.

𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚌,
𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎.
𝙼𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔,
𝙰𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎,
𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝.
𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍,
𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊’𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.
𝙸𝚝𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋e 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚍,
𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝, 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒n 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎.

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚍𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍.
𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚖y 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗,
𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏𝚜.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚟𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚛; 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚡,
𝙽𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎;
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 lays 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝,
𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎.

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍, 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗,
𝙸𝚗 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜,
𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐s my 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜.

𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝?
𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
The 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕’𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝙱𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚝"
Above the black, I'm trapped beneath the white.
Time slips away, past my distracted sight.
My mind, clusters all of my pain and my fright,
They tangle as one with life's cold endless night.

I reach for stars that used to guide, used to teach.
As I Begged for my cleansing while soaking in bleach.
I trusted in the magic of the moon, now I see.
It's nothing more than a rock, that I know I can't reach.

My Quantum perceptions, once clear as the day,
Elude from my vision, like dreams, they drift away.
Every feeling is just harsh. Each thought runs astray,
My body outlives the suffering my spirit's slow decay.

Hung swaying, for all to see, can't live a disguise.
My Agony is screaming, but at a deaf, silent sky.
Through fractured, foggy lenses, I see only hidden lies.
The cosmos entrapped behind the cage of my eyes.

Emotions do not live past the span of human life.
The universe continues, far past our demise,
To a divine destination. Our progress will be forgotten.
Emotions deemed redundant. Our egos will lay rotten.

All else has true purpose, even without eyes to see it.
Or emotions to feel it. Or belief to give it reason.  
No matter who believes it. Time lives, never freezes.
An endless puzzle shrouded by he, who designed the pieces.

I struggle just to get clean cause my demons are not leaving.
I have fought for a belief, to find there's nothing in believing.
Something stealing all the meaning and replacing it with feelings.
Terrored dreams keeping me screaming, pleading with the ceiling.
Saanvi 6d
If I never get to be as beautiful
as all the pretty girls around me,
at least let me be

the scattered breeze ruffling your skin,
the scattered wind carrying whispers from the mountains,
the scattered sunlight illuminating cracked walls.

If I never get to be as graceful
as all the eloquent girls around me,
at least let me be

scattered like desert sand
all over your landscape.
At least let me be

scattered like drops of water
coloring the morning leaves.

Scatter my ashes, aghast, into ocean water,
because—

if I am never pretty enough for you,
at least let me be...
at least let me be,

who I am in reality:
a scattered mosaic
with missing pieces....
I am a scattered mosaic with missing pieces. My soul has been fragmented time and again....
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