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Kyla Nov 15
Like a plague in my mind, I didn't ask for you here
But there's no antibiotic, you won't disappear
Musing of times long past
In my mind, I feel I am trapped
The people around me have changed
You and I are estranged
The reflection shows my years in the sun
But my mind is cast back to when I was young
Like a plague in my mind, I didn’t ask for you here
Thoughts swirling around making all things unclear
Keep concealing
Stop feeling
Rene Arreola Apr 14
Sinister Omens.
The ocean runs blood
As our trees burn into the ground.
Evil is spiraling in gray clouds,
Starting the thundering of trumpets
In the city of the sky.

Nine levels are being climbed,
With fire and blood on their hands.
Plagues and curses
Were just the beginning.

As difficult as it is to say,
We are deserved of our sins,
People of the land.

You aren't born to please anyone, neither accepted by everybody.

But your purpose is to make sure you live good making better thangs, making thangs better.

Spreading love across to each and every one wisely. You're born to rule not ruled. Everyone is meant to live fee free. But it takes bravery to make a living, on the field of struggle, busting and jostling, in search for fortune, get yours, I'd get mine. living in dreams,

getting goals accomplished unyielding. Thinking of living again tomorrow,

when we hadn't none reaped ou'ta momentum.  Is there future promised to us at all.?

When we had spent perhaps even the half of our lifetime , achieving nothang.

Stagnated, disdained, and denounced crazy sage, labeled mad. Does it not mean we were plagued? God forbid! Sango in the altar.

History's mystery new testament era. Jesus is Lord a slain Saint sent from above.

Make a melody 🎶 sing to the world, lengthening fasting season.

Faithful journey  along with Supreme omniscient ghost. Awe! - C9fm
CIN Feb 2022
What's it like to be free
Like laying in the middle of a wide open field
Still, mind haunts and head rots
There's a plague in the air
Silently taking over us
It affects all
weak, young, strong, old
A certain stride in your step while you decay
Brain in shambles yet you stay
At night those who rot feel their sickness spread
Lungs caving in and organs sick with rage
There's bile in your closing throat
Swallow it down, choke
Disguise your growing illness
Despite its universal despair
Quietly we fall
Clawing our way out of the grave
With one hand in hell already
we are all dying slowly with time
Ren Sturgis Feb 2022
I am afraid.
Afraid of losing ;
losing those dear to me, losing myself, losing what I've yet to gain.
But how can I lose what I've never had?
I get so frustrated because I can't stop time.
I can't fix everything.
I'm not even anywhere close to being healed.
I want to heal others.
My loved ones deserve to live.
We deserve to be happy.
What did we do to bring about such pain, such sickness?
Why are we plagued so?
I'm always asking "Why?"
Please let us live.
I'm tired of hurting.
Elliott G May 2021
Sickness, death, disease,
rats, bugs, ***** fleas;
Royal knights at ease,
not trying to appease
the masses anymore
as bodies amass on the floor.

Stomping down the corridor,
black-gowned conquistador
in court known as le docteur.
Majestically pointed beak,
leather satchel, utensils squeak
as one two three and four
the man takes to the floor-
And Waltz!

Clack the Castle door.
The wicker-faced figure
grows taller, grows bigger,
and one goes to figure
who first pulls the trigger
And Clasp!
Hands come together as one
step by step, step on the gown
almost trip and fall down,
white as silk and black as dawn;
A smirk met with a frown.

Endless days, deadly gaze
from beyond the red-glass eyes:
A mosaic from the skies
as God's son met his demise,
idolized by commonfolk,
glass sculptures embedded into walls.

The ******* of angels,
interlacing strangers;
masked visage from nature
in the form of bustling bees
busy beguiling Byzantine baronesses,
backstabbing brides, burning bioessence,
*******, burdens, nature's reconnaissance.
Tiny creatures nestled into wooden crates,
by the hands of humans' race;
the beekeepers their only living grace.

The two figures intertwined
Ying-yang dancing under starlight
Snow-white and the seven plagues
dressed in crystal, black parade.

The court jester coughs and gargles,
the monarchs paint the floors with blood,
as the silk road lifts embargoes;
a thousand-year old flood
of plague-infested spices,
time to roll the dices,
is it rats or mices,
who really cares,
everyone's already dead.
To look for love
Where there
Is no love -
To understand the mystery
Of the absurd world -
To put on another mask
In the time of the plague -
To put it aside for sometime:
Meeting with loved ones -

Man Mar 2021
there are more things in this life
than love
though it seldom seems it
with love itself, in scarcity
the norm are hearts hurting
and in these times
getting close can be a death send
read and write and dream
of times better suited to the casanovic tendencies
that consume you to no end
when the plague is dead
and we have become
but even handicapped, love lacking still sullies you
so put it to the side
just for now my friends
Purcy Flaherty Feb 2021
For the last few thousand years, humans have continued to trespass, venture into inhospitable areas, burning down, meddling, or just poking around in natures complex, natural chemical laboratories.

The more humans encroach upon the natural world; the more exposed we are to a highly complex eco system; a system that has evolved over millions of years to support a huge diversity of life in which humans play a tiny part.

As a species we struggle to survive the mosquitoes, not to mention the trillions of other diverse insects, animals, fawner and flora we are now disrupting and introducing to our populations, is it any wonder so many of us are dying.

This disease is a symptom of our consumption and lack of contentment?
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