Nothing can stop the unquenchable fire,
fed by the flame of the deepest desire.
 
Born of a purpose, intent that is true
in the one who's determined to do what they do.
 
One who believes it can always be done.
One who won't quit till the battle is won.
 
One who gets up every time that they fall.
One who dreams big, regardless how small
 
they may seem in this world of confusion and doubt.
No, nothing can stop one who's figured it out –
 
that the universe bends to the purpose and fire
of the one who holds true… to their deepest desire.

I thought you were an ally,
but walls divide, and I

don’t see a way around
this tonight.

You can’t avoid the fallout,
because being dead inside

isn’t a good reason
to sidestep

when you told
all those lies.

Just look me
in the eyes,

tell me it was worth
bleeding what was left of me

one last time.

I know there’s
the devil in the details,
but as far as I can tell,

I’m over it, and
I’m done seeing red.

Live your own
life in sin,

because I won’t live
my life with your regrets.

The weight of your words..
Keep me up at night...

You point,  
The edges of your fingers cut sharper than any knife,  
Slicing the space we used to fill with laughter and light.  
Your hands are inert,
Hungry for heat,  
Yet instead of reaching, they hover,  
Like ghosts in a room where warmth has fled.  
Each sigh, a boulder,  
That drops into the stillness and  
Unfurls like tangled weeds,  
Choking the garden of us.  
I wonder, do you think love flourishes in the shadows of blame?
Do you think it's fruits bloom where bitterness breathes like an old memory?  
Yet, here I remain —  rooted,  
Waiting for you to look up,  
To step out of the darkness,  
To meet me, halfway..
In that golden sliver of effort,  
Where silence can wrap us in a cradle,  
A refuge,  
Not a battlefield.

The weight of your words..
Keep me up at night...
But the hope in my heart...
Give me just enough to stay another day.

-realness and rhyme x Nachii

It was always about the night.
Always about our attempts to
dominate enveloping darkness.

We pushed it back. Cave mouths
belched fire to warn those legions,
while candles carried us outside.

It was not rocket science which led
us from the dull realm of Morpheus,
but our increasing mastery of light.

We danced at all hours under lasers,
while neon tried to win our favours,
but unforgiving darkness is forever

alert to the smallest crack in resolve.
We are upstarts. Any hint of deference
will draw the wind towards the candle.


Tony Noon

The king of what was stands in silence
and surveys his sunsetted realm.
His spine is straight in stiff defiance
of the twilight of the kingdom he’d helmed.

On a plastered pedestal high he stands
surrounded by the waste of his times.
Carved into it, once acclaimed in his lands,
was his name, now covered by vines.

The pale sheen of low sun as winter nears
casts shadows across his etched face.
Its grooves grow deeper year after year —
he’s the gnomon whose shade this sundial has traced.

He takes no note of the thorny brambles
that have entangled his fixed stony feet.
With flinty gaze and wrapped in a mantle
of granite, he keeps watch through storms and sleet.

Now stripped of his titles and even his name,
the proud king of the ruin’s still there.
For while the long night has broken his fame,
still he stands, marked by his unbroken stare.

Now is, new isn't
Nothing but succinct...
Compare me to something besides wisdom?
Have you seen a care, without believing...?

Can seldom become an occult?
Impatience is mine, for sincerity, to a fault
Sweet Christ, am I a have's vivid salt?
Void is my name of you, until I select light for shalt...

Irony is an awakening source...
Simple futures, fruit like a question
Angel's of a feather, finish a lot with love's force
Answer's of chastity, haven't received my blessing

But beauty has...
An age to itself
Letting bother become your fascination
Is another question, of powers and their wealth?

When a tree makes a wish for you...
Is the world its lord, or should you clarify
An our of held lips, until harmony is due...
The truth of a voice, known as a miracle's vanity