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Objectified manifest's dimensional delineations are totally tangential to trajectory extant.  Infinite possibility's exponentially extemporaneous eidetic prospectus perpetrates incorporeity ideology's perfectible ontology.  It's sheer omnificent ubiquity.   Manumission's vicarious recalcitrance to epistemological entelechy's maieutic had an exogamous homogeny with spatiotemporal telemetry's exigence.  The basic fecundity of cosmic continuum's radix repartee's mesomerism becomes corporeally preternatural's impetus intrigue to intuitional intrepid.  Livid lucid lambent loquacious emanations that presage synergy's retrospectively retroactive to nuance fulgurous fulham's fulcrum.  Cognizance categorical imperative's cognitive, clairaudience clairvoyance, omniscient omnipotent omnipresence.  Unary's unbridled aorist actuator ethology's entelechy.  Zoomorphic zoolatry's social contiguities to demagoguery.  Hegira to Xanadu ne plus ultra exodus.  Elan Vital's apotheosis.  Hectic duty deontological probity.  Noumenal sentience's irrefragably inevitable semantics.  Pandemically phatic futurity fatidics to kitsch kithe.  

I'm sorry Melan but I don't believe that we must lose track of our corporeal being's identity to experience the true essence of love.  We should enhance each other's  cognizance constituency.
Written in response to Melancholy of innocence's poem of the same name.
Little Mary was a dreamer
A very sweet one of course

Though the chains of reality bound her to a myriad of troubles
In her dreams she was free

She was free to dream of a home
A home decorated with a loving husband and successful children

She was free to dream of grandchildren
Little ones sitting close and listening to her tell stories of old

She was free to dream of one day
The day her afflictions will finally go away

She actually had a lot of dreams
A lot she never had the chance to live

Dream on Little Mary
Dream on
Until we meet again dream on
Your dreams may see reality on the other side
So dream on
unknown Jun 2023
You always wanted to be treated like a queen, like a princess.
Be in a kingdom of love, faith, hope, care, respect, and honesty.
Acting as if your life was filled with fairytales, filled with possibilities.
Drowning with the thoughts of battling with once upon a time and happy ending.

You once painted him as your knight in shinning armor.
Described him as your light in a place that's filled with darkness.
You wrote everything perfectly, but on what reason? What purpose?
Were you just overwhelmed by fulfilling the thought of being with him?

Two different paths to take, one choice to make.
One choice to make.
One path to take.
And without hesitation you choose him, over and over again.

Little by little you started to wonder,
What was really the purpose of doing this? Of being with the knight that shined light?
Was the light made everything clear? Or did it just blinded you?
Still you've got no answer, you're lost in your imaginations.

Your knight in shinning armor? Did he really saved you?
Your light in the darkness? Did you really see everything?
The path you took? Was it really the right path?
You should be saying yes, but why are you gloating?

Didn't you want this? Didn't you prayed for this?
Didn't you waited for this? Didn't you work hard for this?
The story you created for how many years just to make your life magical,
Yet you're stuck in your own fairytale that has no spark anymore.
Sharon Thomas Jun 2021
Write me a letter;
About all the things that haunt you.

Write me a letter;
About the adventures you have.

Write me a letter,
About the imaginations;
That you've created all so perfectly,
In that mind of yours, so fearlessly.

But most of all,

Write me a letter,
Telling me why you'd choose me,
To spend an eternity.
With love that you give out
So carelessly.
VKBoy Sep 2020
Every life exists
To live and multiply.
Every note exists
To compose marvelous melodies.
Imagination exists
To see the worlds that cannot be seen.
Emotions exist
To express in languages that cannot be spoken.
Death, too, exists
To let the living taste the pain of losing.
All things exist for a reason
To make every mother’s son as they’re now.
So fret not, folks
For no one is an exception
To the wonders and woes of this world
Set in motion by the biggest yet gentlest hand of all.
By: Yohann Rosenthal, Shambala Sect
dabble Feb 2019
What was warm that night
Was not the fire but his touch
What was bright that night
Was not the starlight but his face
What was deep that night
Was not the ocean but his eyes
What was sweet that night
Was not only berry but his words...
Not our first touch but still new
Not out first hangout but still fun
What was new that night
Was not the location but our love
He gave me all I wanted...
He was my Edward who will wait thousand years...
He was my prince charming even if he knew I ain't Cinderella..
Loved me dawn to dusk and
he held my hand
Coming close to me
Only one thing I felt
What? .........
'hey wake up... It's late already'
A voice of my mom
Water in my face....
The story of my life....
Water dried but he still stayed...
My imaginary boyfriend
Well... Imagination- a beautiful gift to experience everything
Dee Sep 2018
It burns doesn't it
When you struggle to see
Even in broad daylight

That's what it felt like

A burning sensation in my eyes

Although I couldn't quite capture the figure
I knew danger was in the air

I did what I deemed fit
I took my last breath

And swallowed my death potion

For I was only trying to escape

The figure in my imaginations.
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