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Beckie Davies Oct 27
you told me this cage was a palace
you told me I was lucky to be in a place so luxurious
with beautiful bars to grip and look out through

you told me the people walking outside were the prisoners
you told me that freedom is poison
you kept feeding me stale bread reminding me how miserable they were with their champagne and cavier

i kept looking out at the ocean and wondered what it would feel like to swim beneath it's depths
you caught my gaze and promised me that the ocean would only drown me

you told me this cage was a palace
that i was outrageously lucky
so, why did you never call me your queen?
why did you never join me in this so called luxury?
you spin her the same lies you spin for yourself
Gaugamela
Palace of the Camelids

The roosters of Persepolis crow again. Their disloyal resonances and deadly gloom came from seventy kilometers from the Iranian city of Shiraz in the province of Fars, near the place where the Pulwar River flows into the Kur (Kyrus). The Gallos ghosts came mounted on the houses of the twelve Giga Camels, the remaining six recovered. They were coming to retreat, to take the path to Jaffa. The House of Camels was started, as preservatives of the required immunity, in order to be in accordance with the sanitary ellipticals and adaptation to the departure of Judah. They were going to the semicircle of the Lepidoptera consorts united with the ghostly camels Giga and those of the Early Rising Roosters, who will give the first rank in the game of the Birthright, after seven weeks in Judah. Knowing that the phylogeny of animalia is of wide versatility, this super being of the desert  animalia, which will agree to the departure of all and the repatriation of the hexagonal Birthright, except King David who will enter the Celestial Cenotaph in Jerusalem, escorted by the Cherubs.

From Tel Gomel came the reverberations and voices of the last metallic rattles of the swords and the howls of the Macedonian infantry, colliding with each other with their pernicious weapons. While these screeches reverberate like an anvil falling in ninety degrees on the hail pieces of hope of the Achaemenids ..., and their families had to say goodbye to their family plains, as many already lost their cracked souls from inhaled mutilating curses. Today a miraculous event was to occur, a Dorus Hetairoi fell from the high sky, and it came flaming  with fire. And from the northwest side fell a Sarissa spear, which it intercepted in the vicinity adjacent to Joshua's stone, forming a neat Cross lit with the brightest star. It was nothing less than the vehement fire of Meshuva, which brought with it drops of water from the Jordan with the Image of the Baptist, to make the hierarchical gravitation on the pony of the Camels, which at this point had all the dominance of the plague of the ailments that could cause a great impact on the twelve camels, due to an endemic outbreak caused by some leprosy attacking the surroundings, carrying higher infections to those who ride them.

The scene was one of total rhetoric consonant with Tel Gomel, "Gaugamela Palace of the Camels." This paradox came to resent the reciprocity of magnificence of these camelids in the perfect analogy with Gethsemane, for this purpose of agreeing with The Ghosts of Shiraz, shortly before the great battle of Gaugamela began in 332 BC.  equating the lands arranged before the planted areas where these divine species continued to bring the sensitized sense of war around turned into battering rams of mustangs passing through the auscultated portals of the Orchard in agony of interplay.

Over the soft roar of Tel Gomel, maidens in white tulle with half-crossed dresses came, serene and chaste from the plain of the Palace of India; they were the wives who married the commanders of Alexander the Great. They were from the war lineage that also came to concelebrate the farewell to the Animalia and the Hexagonal Birthright. Today the seven miracles are brought together in a perfect line of the apeiron, which of all things, is identifying this first principle with the "indefinite" or "unlimited." Considering that the constitutive principle of things was the apeiron, which is not water, nor earth, nor fire, nor air; it has no concrete form, it is infinite. The cosmos is born, develops and perishes within that "apeiron" in Gethsemane.

This existential infinity of the principles of the world is born from this feat in Gethsemane. Affirming that only this immaterial element or any other of the so-called elements, will bring the apeiron nature of the Garden in flames of sisel love doves, from which all the heavens and the worlds that are in them are generated in Gethsemane renewed towards the infinity of Joshua's love. Now, from where there is rebirth for things, there is also reconstructive destruction, creating needs; that in effect, they repay each other by blaming and retributing for their injustice, according to the disposition of the time, thus speaking of these things in rather poetic terms, these maidens come in their flocked chariots of Sisellas feathers from Tel Gomel, for the blessed that he bathes the subsoil of Tel Gomel and Bumodos, among the cosmic flushes of the Apeiron of the Messiah beyond its origin in the Kafersuseh (many births under a great single multivalent spirit, among thousands of origin stables of Dimensional Beam powers, where I love her sir venerates from the trapeze hung from beam to beam. The fireflies, Bumblebees, Bees and Wasps resemble the profiles of the hollows and hills that were hidden before the figure of this entire nascent profane world, but grandiloquent to migrate and wear the engineering of the large beams that support the structural sky, predominantly on the horizontal and its bending. The World after decompressing dragged the orographic linear cords of Gethsemane, puncturing the cords of the rocks and their average messianic lithosphere, in this way the inertia was opened twisting towards the rock, gathered a set of guidelines that distilled from later moments and adaptation of the inertia to adapt with the Aramaic dynamics emerging from the mouth of all Bern olive trees after yawning and trapped dust silt.

Vernarth says: "With my Xifos I will restore life beyond the burning of wounds, come worms to snack on your Hoplite meats, come now ..." I am Hetairoi ... "and I usually die several times over the worst pains in the jaws of ambrosia with Hestia, but I do not tolerate others suffering pain beyond my control. In the minutes that the wind horns besiege, the jailer's living Garden will be freed from us, which leads him constrained to unleash the insidious and opaque spheres of isolation that deprives knowledge even when he is drunk on death itself and not attentive to it. that blooms on the thorns full of Saracen alcohol "

On gigantic dimensions the insects copulate  the shadows directed on the shadows of the Camels Gigas, thus beginning the departure of the Aramico Huerto, converted into the new palace of the animalia, but containing the airs of pollen on each particle of the concretions of the Mashiach. , now on the platform of the Palace of the Camelids and on the holy hummus of the Garden of Gethsemane.

The Apostle Saint John says: "anguish urges to go to the other side of memory and have to look at other tree species with water from the universe that irrigates the world the swamp" ... Petrobus appears sitting on his golden cloud with Raeder...
Raeder says: “I will go with miraculous airs, and terrified themselves of our own miracles, bathed in the water of the stream and from the head of Petrobus we will go dispensing water where there is none, but he has no memory only the instinct of who need. That is why I have to hang on his jade rings that his webbed legs carry. Now is the time to continue somewhere in the line of the twelve camels after these seven weeks in Judah”

Eurydice intervenes: “I will climb on the camels and talk with them about why the line that leads us will never separate from Gethsemane. We know that we have to return from Jaffa to Limassol to remove the Mariano gold medallion, which was bathed in the background, and that Procoro awaits us immersed in the aroma of the Orchard. I keep a crack in my heart where a Berne Olivo tree grows, and that from its shoots that come, will populate the houses of Skalá and the heights of Patmos”

King David: “I will proclaim on the baptismal airs, and that the ghosts of Shiraz will raise Olivos from the columns of the avenues of Bern, to raise the columns of passageways that lead to the heights of Agamemnon creating the kingdom of Mycenae in the mythology that propitiated the sovereignty of all Argos. This is suddenly ingested in the triad of the Hebrew, Aramaic and Hellenic worldview, to triumph over the excess of external knowledge that they had of it and it will have to be kept in my cenotaph full of wandering aromatic insects”

Etréstles states: “the emanations of the Sun and the progression of other suns will always be the adjective that will make us be part of each particle of land here in El Huerto, Messolonghi, Limassol, Rhodes and Patmos. Wherever I have ever been, the lashes of my eyes have closed completely enough to keep them semi open until the encounter of new lights that protect those of an anonymous dawn with them closed.

Also after this episode, Campaspe, one of Alexander the Great's concubines, appears. She came in the name of all the maidens and concubines who were betrothed to their commanders in India. The beauty of this noble woman is renowned.

Campaspe says: “We were all going to be Sovereigns, but the face of death was always in front of the Commanders of Alexander the Great. The outfits we wore were only black and scents of Palacios de Guagamela. The cold that comes from another leads me to possess those of others that are not what brings me here. I was delivered to the hands of a painter who portrayed me, but the true meaning of the warm mustard lands of Gaugamela are in the din of the wasteland pleasure of the solitude of the spaces, there is no more striking and curative good, than the one that has come from Vernarth to Tel Gomel, paraphrasing as the sensuality of sadness that continues to manifest itself here in the floating ungulate hands of the ghosts of Shiraz, bringing to the greater confusion of uniting all the forces of the world, for all the blood that has not been emancipated or renamed "

The gray haze of the Orchard mourns on gomorresin, the insects moan the evidence of the triangulated pollen that Campaspe spreads in her nascent genome, and the twelve camels begin to turn on themselves, along with their long and prolonged snoring. The slopes snort in the sound of procreation in the whistles of the fresh air, disputing the borders of the Bern Olive Trees that ebb the elongated bands of their white dresses, stripping. The Mashiach was leaving between the gray fringes of naked nubile. The insects continued to come out of the caves of previous character of Golgotha, and the Lepidoptera voices emitted voices in ancient Aramaic, similar to the event of Bethany in the hands of Lazarus contracted to immortalities in the shreds of his shroud, turning green in the olive trees reared in a epitaph never chanted.
Gethsemane became a mezzanine scale of Persian architecture, but of a channel of affront of a high measured premium, Mashiach on each of the four wings of the Lepidoptera and the Cherubim, frolicking in the jelly of the phrases exuded by the aerial rounds of insects that were compressing the new cycle of language, together with the overflowing candle of pearlescent matches running through the scrawny flannels of the goodbye of the Mashiach united in the foamy saliva of the Olive Tree and in the dominant beam of Kafersesuh.

Vernarth and the Apostle close their eyes already mounted on the camelids, they take a slow walk on the mezzanine that suggested walking through rocks and desert lands. All were already mounted on each of the Giga camels, leaving Gethsemane flooded with insects, birds and blades clouds of pollen on the fumaroles of the quantum.
Gaugamela Palace of the Camelids CHP
What I want
Want more than anything
Isn't a castle on a cloud
Or a palace and king

It's my life as it is
Only extended beyond years
It's my life like this
Minus all the fears

A place where I don't have to build up my armour
A place without this international drama
No climate change or ****** media
No wars and no 'Corona's newest feature'

So it's no castle on a cloud
And certainly no palace and king
I want a world with peace
That's what I want more than anything.
hiraeth Sep 18
A wooden palace for the dead
had everyone came in black
flowers, voices, mother earth was awake
To celebrate, regret and retract

The living came to purify their souls
By invigorating adorned cathedrals
And singing songs about loss

Almost as on a causal wedding day
They did not come to celebrate the dead
But to cry about the left behind
Together, to feel more alive

And they were dancing
Around the gone
Voices creating vibration of air
Which sounded peacefully
To the song of despair
Amanda Apr 20
My quiet place is no longer quiet

My sanctuary built inside skull  has blood spilled on its white marble walls

This life I escape wormed it's way through and is slowly occupying my refuge

This lifestyle I lead finally overtakes my one area of stability

And now peaceful palace harbored in my head has become a living hell
They say find your happy place but even my happy place is sad now
You're only as free
As you allow yourself to be
And I kept holding myself back

I kept building a cage
In every life stage
Imitating what I knew were facts

Because where I belonged
Was in between four walls
To make up for what I lacked

I couldn't handle the outside
My own potential was denied
It was best for me not to overreact

Head held high with a stern gaze
Always keeping a royal face
Every movement was a graceful act

Poised and perfect I shall be
For one day I will be free
Maintain composure before I attack
Zack Ripley Feb 10
A palace by the sea for you and me.
a palace by the sea where mermaids swim free.
a palace by the sea where I wrap my arms around you tight
as we get lost in a beautiful sunset every night.

What's your happy place?
Blind Eye Jan 12
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https://dennislaj.wixsite.com/website
Gem Palomar Sep 2019
You can build up a palace in me with your touch and your tongue.

But no, not the big and massive kind of palace with many different alleyways.

No, you did not create a palace in me that is made up of silver and gold,

nor a palace with glistening windows and tulip-filled gardens.

You have created in me a palace with empty halls and blank walls, so empty, not even a voice would echo. No glistening windows, but instead it is cracked and has shards of broken glasses on the floor to show how broken I am. No tulip-filled gardens to soothe and satisfy your soul. Only thorns, vines, and I, still tangled in the idea that you would come back.

Only hate, regret, and pain is in here within the abandoned palace where you once stayed

...and left.
Yanamari Sep 2019
Running my fingers
Along the frozen walls,
A feeling that lingers;
To a house, its doors.
I stare out at the melting
Burning Sun
A fire too intense;
At its distance,
On my skin, a warmth almost a hum.

The Sun is too close, too close

Foreign is the feeling of the hum,
Dancing on my skin,
Never delving deeper some.
My mind can only wonder,
Sunlust echoing in my gaze as I
Cross my legs and enjoy
The cold while basking in the Sun.
Neither overly warm
Nor am I frozen to the touch;
I have faded into the cold
And currently, I have no plan
Nor rush.
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