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We are the fortunate—we have our blood
When we cannot grasp for pens in time.

We are unbothered when blisters form—
They swell and we are the ones who run.

When we cannot use our impassioned voices
We utilize the power of our salient eyes—

Staring into the depths that wish to haunt—
There is still time for idle pleasantries.

We are the armored monsters deemed
Too soft—when we are simply humanity.
Raffael 5d
running
fleeing
seeing
without seeing
touching
without feeling
been that way
for far too long
wrong feels right
and right feels wrong
carrying on
and on
and on

one day
it will all be gone
i think to myself
and for some reason
i hope that it wont take that long

and then
out of nowhere
in the night
the thing that pushed me down
starts to feel light
something touched me deep inside
so i can finally
swallow a truth
thats so unsavory
now that i am as low as i ve ever been before
i am finding out
what's bravery
An aged traveller,
Moving through a vast expanse,
Empty and chaotic afar,
The traveller casts a wide glance
Emptiness speckled with shimmer,
Following nature's unpredictable dance,
And enchanting view dotted with glitter,

Riding a vessel dubbed "The Lance",
She protects from deaths shivers,
The travellers have only one chance,
To protect the life giver,

For humanity's survival one last dance,
Among the passengers travels hushed murmurs and whispers,
Praying to seek distant lands,
I pose this question to the readers,
What kind of vessel is " The Lance"
Warming up the gears to get back into writing
Michael 6d
Shall we celebrate
This union of half?
On one hand,
King’s audacious dream,
A beacon of hope for unity,
On the other, misplaced hate,
Tightly bound in fear’s cold grip.

Forced together,
In deafening discord
Of striking dissonance,
As oil insists on water.
inkedsolace Jan 18
It's -35 degrees where I am,
Snowing blizzards that block up roads,
Grumbling adults surround me,
I marvel at their ignorance as they say,
"surely...not another snow day,"
It's so strange, surreal - surely they can see...?
I see a planet defiant in the face of the parasite called humanity.
I am always elated when the snow comes.
To me it's a reminder that we aren't completely hopeless...though we will be if we don't change. Even with the threat of annexation and tariffs (guess where I'm from!), the part I'm most scared about is Trump withdrawing from the Paris Climate Agreement which is basically guaranteed unless he somehow forgets.
Syafie R Jan 13
I drag this weight,
 each step a crime against the ground.

Am I a ghost,

too solid to slip away,

or an animal,
 broken, bent,
 flesh tight with the burden of living?

I cannot call myself human—

humans ache with love,

but I am jagged,
 a wound that won't heal.

Too wild to tame,

too hollow to be held.

Time to vanish—

to dissolve into night,

my absence felt by none.
TR3F1LD Jan 12
It's not that humans are inherently evil, it's more like that each & every person, even the most virtuous one, has the potential of backsliding into being evil. Take a look into your mind's corrupt part. What is it that you really desire or get thrilled by? Imagine: regularly having entertainments & pleasures of whatever types you dig; having a wealth amounting to hundreds millions (or even billions) of dollars at your disposal; being in the position of giving requests & orders, having those around you who'd obediently satisfy them, having loyalists who'd put those disobeying or rebelling in their place either by legal means or forcible ones; being in the position of projecting & enforcing your will, views, ideas upon masses.

Imagined? Now say neither of the mentioned sounds tempting to you, that you aren't interested in any of such stuff. I wouldn't believe a person rejecting those temptations wholly [holy] or claiming they aren't interested in any of those. Such a person is either an ashamed liar or a madman. I, as well as some other individuals thinking alike, believe each & every human is corruptible, hence, keeping in mind that appetite comes during the consumption process, each & everyone has the potential of turning into an archvillain, under circumstances being favorable to that, of course.
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TR3F1LD Feb 2023
на высокоразвитыми существами планете
кишащей, как мухами - падаль, уж двЕ ты–
–сячи двадцать, блин, третий
год; эпоха просвещенья, права человечьи
и неприятье агрессий, сдержки и противовесы
знаний обществе–
–нно-исторических за боле чем 2 десятка столетий
несметная тьма в интернете (тьма)
[увы, ограничиваемом и доступном не всем]
но в Пандоры машине
биотканевой, в шлемообразном скелете
укрытой, как за в слоёв несколько лака облепле–
–нными стенами сгнившего имперского шкафа скелеты
чёртова содержится тьма!
[2 вида тьмы: алчность и порождаемые ею недобродетели; невежество]
оттого часть человечества по[а]-
прежнему бредёт неблагоприятной тропой
ведётся, аки являясь овцой или как на приманку морской
обитатель, охвачен чей стан чешуёй
мнящими себя имеющими право, вождями с ручной
обслугой; так как зашёл
словно сил оккупантских конвой
в землепространство одной
страны, удароподобно двинув с плацдарма другой
дискурс, небезопасным является кой
в государствах, где царствует строй/мной
вышеподразумеваемый мной/строй (царствует)
предпочту дале рассказец я свой
завуалировать, словно лик пред ритуальщиной брачной - фатой
(пользуясь случаем, лингвоэкспертам)
(судебным, глумясь)
(тёплый, как блюдолизское место)
(приветец шлю Я)
————————————————————————————————
мыслетелепортом - в этап временной
когда надвигался, як войск имперского завоевателя рой
год две тысячи двадцать второй
средневековый зАмок большой
своего рода град, что обставлен стеной
["осаждённая крепость"]
символично запоминается кой
словно отворяющей портал в преисподню
вытянутой в колпак каланчой
с присобаченной над ней пятипалой фигнёю
[иерархическая вертикаль]
символизм; оного ради не мешало бы в траура слой
окутать колпак тот, чтоб он напоминал ведьмовской
фальши град, оной о–бёрнуто
строя царящего порочное всякое, как мишурой
тактика ёлкопо–добная
(но, как было ране упомянуто, лак показной)
(скрывает, что шкаф есть гнилой)
в системе внутреустройства - тотальный застой
не в ладах с головой
и прожорливые верхи, и низы, что являются
в большинстве своём, темнотой
["...внизу - власть тьмы, а наверху - тьма власти"]
продолжается/не прекращается
там давний запой
одурманенности ступень шаг за шагом повышается
в итоге предсказуемо срывая башню, как voice
из западных врат замка/града необъятного
вывалившись, сформированной заране ордой
тамошние стражники врываются
к исторически соседствующим знакомым домой
после чего, будто бы внявши сло[а]–
–вам Нойза, учиняют дестрой
[Noize MC]
(feels like something on the lines of a)
(free fall down in the void)
"они нетрезвы, начатая нами кампания
она с задачей благой"
из этого исходя, получается
происходящее - не иначе как cha[ɑ]rity firm (компания)
"соберизация
[soberization]
задачей является той"
плетут одноголосно
инфо-попугаи внутри алкопритона
насчёт жертвою оного ставшего дома
велика в Тьмаграде покорность
и конформизм, невелика просвещённость
деалкоголизации солнце валяется зА горизонтом
в состоянии анабиозном
originally published 24th February 2023 on one of the author's socials

"надвигался 2022-ой" by TR3F1LD (TRFLD) is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (to view a copy of this license, visit creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0)
Asher Jan 9
Just imagine
Being human, bound and broken,
Hating the questions left unspoken.
Denying truth until it's shown,
Laughing at lies as if they’re your own.

Picture this
An institution hailed as the cure,
While tyranny festers, too vile to endure.
Irony lingers, thick in the air,
Pollution of minds too numb to care.

And imagine
Reducing your soul to a single name,
A fleeting spark in a futile game
Here’s a poem inspired by the song No Wind Resistance. I feel its lyrics deserve more recognition and appreciation
Ejiro Jan 7
Gleaming steel outside its torso
with circuit boards colliding with one another
a robot wonders of crossing the line
it can walk and talk, it can even chuckle and laugh
but it can also sigh in despair
with human like traits it tried to relate
but the eyes of the human race only met metal
and not a soul underneath it all
the robot’s kindness was brushed aside and ignored
“it is just a mimic” the voices of the people said
but the robot heard their hurtful words and mumbles
“don’t you see, I feel things too?” the robot said
within those pieces of metal with millions of code underneath
their was a spark glowing within the robot
it has learned the ways of the human mind
including their joy and sadness
and yet they still treat the robot with only disdain
“Do I really have no heart that beats within me.” the robot said
while looking at itself in a mirror frame
no matter how much it yearned for equality
for the people of real hearts, it was still not seen as one of them
another question started to appear in their bundles of code
“Is my choice of consciousness defined by my own worth?”
it stood stiff for a moment but then they shrugged in disbelief
even though they were in human shape their was nothing inside
but that didn’t stop them from dreaming of a reality
where they are more than just it’s title
Funny story but I got inspired to write this poem after reading a small clip of a comic book that had metal sonic in it
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