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Sudzedrebel Apr 19
Life can be a real rut
When you're running through it
Like some kind of a feral mutt.
Big pits that open up
In which you can get stuck.
Rabbit holes made by voles!
For spry are the gophers & moles.
Still, I have love for a rodent.
Yet, ever as such, always
Unprepared for a real owl!
If it ain't the bark or howl
The bite you get is quite sour.
Just gotta give a hoot!
Don't run a foul chasing after fowls!
Sudzedrebel Apr 17
You couldn't tell if I was crazy
If you were even any sane!
And you're not.
You couldn't tell if I was sane
If you weren't any crazier!
But you are!

Does it hurt your head to think?
Why, let it stop!
Does it hurt your chest to breathe?
Why, just quit it!

Soemone else can do that for you,
You can just take the credit!
For if the heart should ache
You're better off without it!

But serious-
The cloud tells the rain
What is & is not water.
Do the falling droplets care?
"What are these foreign definitions?"

The destination is the same,
Their own priorities remain,
And perspective is unchanged.

These strange properties,
Words themselves as elements
When strung together by sentence.
Is repentance within a reflection?
Redemption by sight through a drop of liquid?

What grippings within these pensions,
What potential within these tensions,
What whippings within these conventions.

By the accounts of every party attended,
What stern material has been cobbled.
Yet, poverty is worn stronger.
That which itself is as the weather,
I think it closer to trinkles
Than shine & twinkle.

What do the poor pour?
What do the bums toast?
What do the homeless shower?

A buddy of mine
Left really only notes.
Another was a rotten cheater.
I knew one that liked to play with guys,
Knew one that liked masks & needles.
Comes what? What goes? Who knows.

It can't be worse than before,
But that's not something you remember.
Of course, I mean, not someone you know.
Blind
A frustrated mind
Sees nothing.

A positive aura from your side
When the day
craves the young night.

Don’t rebuke where you are
Don’t rebuke your slight.

In the orb of Arbiters
Surrounded by.

Perhaps human life
Is a flock of birds
soaring through the sky

Perhaps the human mind
Is like an unearthed
Exciting thrilling science.
As shadows take the stage, patterns merge into design.
Not shapes nor in lines, more like visions in the mind.
Through this foreseeing lens, light dances with the dark.
My Conscience, transmogrified. Truth is leaving its mark.

Actors step with intent, and I see the revelation.
Their motions send spears into my imagination.
The audience watches in awe. They're spellbound.
As the story unfolds, I conclude without sound.

On stage, Something hides what I somehow can know.
Like a whisper in my ear, secrets are already told.
There's a clairevoyant truth behind the gaze of my eye.
The creator himself is showing me all that hides.

The stage becomes dim, the actors in place.
A dark, twisted tale. An ending I can taste.
Curtains fall as I reflect, to the cue of a song.
I see all the outcomes, Why can’t I be wrong?
My frame is decaying, even faster when I stand.
A house, and I’m haunted, on hope’s burial land.
My windows, hollowed eyes that do nothing but stare,
At a world that shunned one with a life meant to bare.

These floorboards that shriek, are like my mournful cries,
As serpent-like phantoms shed skin and pass by.
Warm words that were etched in the walls are now cold,
Just echoes of a story that will never be told.

The clocks restless ticking, its echoes, they scream.
If only to remind me that I’ve shattered, like dreams.
My will to live was buried long ago under a promise.
These cobwebs were spun, only to trap any solace.

-“Oh, cursed soul,” a ghost haunts as I weep,
“Do you feel my icy grip as you’re failing to sleep?

I’ve watched as you wander these fated terrains.
I have hollowed your heart; I will empty your veins.”

- “Forget now, the warmth that ignited your soul.
What you thought you could hold; I have made to turn cold.”

- These words no one hears, they disturb my fraught mind.
As my black stricken eyes pierce the void till I’m blind.

- “Awaken, child unwanted!” he pleads through the dust.
“Once I’m fed from your essence, you will finally rust.”

- Those words make a promise, my hopeless future forms.
Reassurance that the curse set for me has been born.

There’s a cold empty room, where my hopes should reside.
Shattered mirrors hold proof, that my dreams have since died.
A vibrant tapestry now sways, ripped in the wind,
Whispering of lost motives to a life that wants to end.

The doors are creaking open, letting in all I fear.
My tormented nightmares are all that is clear.
In every shadowed corner my demons reside.
If only to remind me, I’m imprisoned here inside.
To be as The Moth, born to the dark.
A fleeting fragment, a flickering spark.
To live life alone and die by the flame.
To be its own shadow. To not have a name.

Guided by stars too distant to hold.
To exist as a soul, that exists all alone.
To run into hiding by dawn’s first light.
To be haunted by, and to haunt all in sight.

Each light forms a lust that burns like a vow.
A promise of warmth that its fate won’t allow.
With wings, so fragile, that are pinned to this fate,
Its destiny cursed like sins born into saints.

Not resting at night, nor waking in peace.
For the pulse of the glow, we know, doesn’t cease.
To be called to the light as it paints life black.
To be deemed punishable before any ill act.

Yet The Moth questions nothing, asks nothing in return.
Never questions its darkness, or why the light burns.
A creature that lives in desperation of the night.
A creature that dies by desperation for the light.

Its symbolism, carved in my endless pursuit.
My shape stitched into the seams of The Moth's truth.
A life chasing embers no matter fate’s cost.
To be as The Moth, to find only what's lost.

Just like The Moth, I was born to the dark.
A fragmented soul with a flickering spark.
To live life alone and die by the flame.
To be my own shadow. To forget my own name.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
Asuka Mar 30
The sky wears my grief in a veil of storm clouds,
Each thunderclap an elegy, each lightning bolt a verdict.
Even if you wash away the crimson stains,
The echoes of your sins will never fade.

Why does sorrow weave my fate into thorn-laden tapestries?
Did my cries kiss your ears, or did you weave silence as a shield?
You shattered me into constellations of agony,
Each droplet a relic of your unatoned sins.

The valleys yawn like ancient wounds,
Rivers of rubies spill through their veins,
While mountains rise as merciless titans,
Laughing at my feeble hands that cannot scale their spines.

The fire you kindled consumed more than my flesh—
Only ashes remain, whispers of a tragedy embalmed in wind.
Yet my soul lingers, a wraith woven from anguish,
Drifting between dusk and dawn, pleading for reckoning.

Lost in the labyrinth of wailing willows, I hunger for justice,
Yet solitude devours me like a specter feasting on the guilty.
You were the beast cloaked in borrowed skin,
A shadow masquerading as light—could you not be human for a breath?

Justice rides the chariot of time, relentless as the tide.
Soon, the wind shall carry the taste of your own venom,
And the stars will script your downfall in the language of the gods.
Megan Mar 24
On a tight rope
Between spiders webs
Swaying in the wind
Life flows and ebbs

Rain crashes down
Choices to be made
To run back or ahead
My vision it fades

To my rights whats known
The ideal bubble
From whats been told
Risen from the rubble

To my left it whispers
A gentle caress
It sparkles, it glimmers
Feels free from the mess

If I turn to my left
A cord tugs my back
Could I free myself
To cut some slack

Seems if I let go
Ill fall to fate
Will I fly to the sky
Or claim check mate

Taking a deep breath
I release whats safe
Trust in the unknown
With this leap of faith
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