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I have paid heed
His weening always makes me bleed
That Fiend with his spleen
Nor let anyone see
That he counsels me
While I dream.

He wants my inferior soul
The more I sleep
The more he succeeds
Paradise he does not want me to reach
Who could it be
Lucifer maybe.

The terrible weight of his deceit
He is from no creed
His steed next to the Tree Eve sought
Secrets he can keep
My wish, to drink
From Lethe for eternity.
Written on January 2, yet I hesitated to post for obvious reasons (Lucy is a sketchy subject). I utilized the name Lucifer instead of Satan because the latter is plain evil.
Carl Miller Jan 15
Only the brightest lights of purest white
Will grace our flesh as we ascend
To the highest plain of humanity's journey
Wrapped in skin our forms will bend

Tears were shed by those who fear
What We embrace to end our quest
Red that flows and black that floods
How hollow the mind that deems our quest a test

A face so bright, humbling, yet wrong
Greeted us with arms like fire
Our bodies burn brighter like embers in the air
Our quest has ended, and we waited so long
Written 12/31/18
Paul NP Jan 7
A desire is a suffering passion that blooms from the fruits of wisdom. It's a yearning for a new sense, a greater pleasure, a sage's joy. It is growth itself, the season of spring extended and stretched out forever. It is Lucifer's Sorrow transfigured by The Sun. The flame in the Mind is Reason, The Mourning Star. It secretly mourns it's innocence and ignorance, and it's own Tears grow it. When you weep he laughs and when you laugh he weeps, tears of joy. Your depth mocks him and his depth mocks you. His roots grow down like tentacles, dipping into the red mantle, drinking his death. His branches grow skyward and **** the life out of the Sun. He is childhoods end. But through him comes The Foresight of The Forefather who has tracked every poisonous path. And he revivifies his youth through his youths, protecting and showing the way, he is proud of you and you are proud to be his son. His son is the Light of his life, and the light of God. And God is revivified in him. Together they cross paths like Christ. Desire becomes the fortitude that protects peace, so that love can never be lost.
SC Kelley Jan 2
Skin like flowing magma
Eyes like infernos
Lips that would make you want to spill every drop of your desires
Soft aggressive fingers brushing sins into your soul
A voice like boiling honey
Promises of wild fantasies
Contracts signed in blood
All tricks of the Devil himself

~S.C. Kelley
For the curious sinners
Sierra Dec 2018
The agonizing descent began with a single tear
Waves of despair washing away glimmers of faith
Sounds of voices becoming insincere
Life at the mercy of the reaper’s snathe

Pleas drowned out by ungrateful minds
Reckless decisions clouding judgment
Sight blinded by all of mankind
Ambition forced into becoming recumbent

Landing with a force so strong
Ignorant to the surrounding shadow
Caught in a feeling hidden for too long
Tempted by the emptiness of tomorrow

Rising a wary eye to see
Dreading what lies in the darkness
Fearing the gaze of a beastly devotee
The last remains of the heartless

A ghastly creature looms above
Paralyzing fear skipping a beat
Yearning the heart of a mourning dove
Gaze lowers in the acceptance of defeat

A facade retreats to reveal a broken shard
A reflection of inner pain set free
Loneliness leaving the soul scarred
Never having experienced the sensuality

No longer held back by the feeling of being afraid
Realizations of similarity
A hand reaches out to pervade
Minds trusting the confidence of sincerity

A bond formed between damaged obscurities
Breaking the mold carved by fate
Mirror revealing the true purities
Becoming a new incarnate

No longer the one to blame
Giving a home to those who suffer
They would call out a simple name
A winged lord dubbed Lucifer
Skyler Dec 2018
bad men doing bad things
that’s common; ordinary

it’s when good men
do evil deeds
that the devil smiles.
M-PAC Nov 2018
On top of the world
I ain’t coming down,
Looking through heavens eyes
Earths turned **** bound,
Don’t worry close your eyes
It’s all good now,
I’m here with you.

Round and round we go,
Dancin’ with Demons,
Dancin’ with Devils,
Don’t worry bout me
I already know,
This is for you.
hart Nov 2018
sorrow found me when i was young it stood over me in my crib, as the fire burned , as dad shouted and dean carried me out of that house, as i cried for dean when dad left us alone, as i begged dean for lucky charms instead of beans

sorrow waited for me as i grew up he watched over me like a guardian angel little did i know that the shred of doubt i had in my mind was only going to grow as he watched me carve my name with dean in the impala, as i watched dean die over and over, through every demon i killed , every monster i slaughtered , every mistake i made and every slip up

then sorrow won he took me at last using Lucifer as a distraction as he wiggled into my brain and fed on all my thoughts until i was nothing no that's not true i was something, i was ruined, i was empty ,i was nothing but sorrow and despair and the worst part of that is i knew it was there all along shadowing me hunting me like i do monsters waiting for me to give up fighting against it

sam winchester
poem i wrote from sams pov
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018

that meaningless word left dangling before children,

a damoclean sword held fast in a gordian knot tied with scarlet thread,

finer than the spider's that once tied men's souls to an angry American God,

birthed in Transylvania,

over the woods, and through the dale, no lie

There is a tale of lies told in Nobel houses, never reachin' ground,

Down here, we situations manifested to, vain, again, stem the tide,

We flounder, fish out of water, why are we sent if


he hears, he listens, haps he knows, and

how such as we came

to be here,

Welcome and see, dare ye ask me in? Might I ply you with lies

and you, believe 'em?

I could make a mindless robot out of your parts, but

that would take forever and

that's not how

Wisdom's child would tend to be, for first,

You must believe a lie and I, amusing as can be,

can't tell lies.

Discernment, fine points, per-spicacity per se, the only way.

Good luck (Luc, said luck in many tongues, said Luc- as in Luc-ifer.

It means light, as in light, regular old granted light.

Lightifier, good, take some, good light, for the travail, in the night.

You see, not so long ago, for me, five years before I'as born,

my momma moved to town.

What was that like, I axed my old uncle, while back,

movin' t'town, in 1943?

Well, he says,

We had electricity.

USA, 1943, some folks still was poor, and all the good men

was gone to war.

Cities, it was different,

if the movies got it right, Bowry Boys, n'em.

In the desert we did, okeh, in town, though,

we had electricity.

He was ten back then. He'd been huntin' rabbit's,

to buy Christmas presents from Sears and Roebucks,

since he was five.

C'mon, I say. No lie, he say,

BLM or some gover'ment

whatsajigger, was payin' 2 cents a pair fer jack rabbit ears.

'Said he bought Christmas presents for his mom and dad,

and my mom, with his first rabbit money, at five.

Shootin' with a single-shot 22, 12 cents a box,

Jack Rabbits, 2 cents a head.

Three Christmas presents, plus postage, $2.56.

Do the math, I think, and go -

Five years old, at ten, he moves to town, 1943,

we had electricity. That's all.
An older man than me gave a thought to ponder. Thought I'd try to share the bounty. This is read, by me at
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