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Dylan McFadden Jun 2020
Behold the King upon His throne
Who utters judgments set in stone
He gives the wicked what they earn:
The death for which their own hearts yearn

Though oft for filthy, guilty men
Whose sins no scribe could tell by pen
This King, in love, steps off His throne
And trades their rags for His own robe

july hearne Apr 2018
fifteen thousand days
for things to go wrong

it was just one of those fifteen thousand days
where things didn't go so well
that was today,

in my time
there is no more time
only stoner time
and five dollar andre wine
marked down to 4.99

tired of the everyday loser
in the last of light
hating sunday nights
for all they're worth
for all their worth
change the tense to the time,

in my time,  there is no more time
only stoner time
i couldn't make the distinction
in time

at least bill cosby got handed a guilty verdict,
so much for america's dad telling everyone to pull up their pants
while he wore his patchwork robe and ***** all those women
My jasmine is in my arms wearing her white shirt
She is pure and chaste like ****** with white robe
My love is in trance my soul is just in real concert
My sweetheart just allow me to explore and probe

My sweetheart I can not survive with out just you
My love is enthralled in the company of your beauty
We have to go hand in hand just through and through
Let us be together on love and beauty to take to agree

My white beautiful flower I cherish and celebrate
Each moment in your company to be in companion
Let me be frank to declare you wonderful and great
Let me tell you frankly to each we meant to destine

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Phaedrus was always there: before and after
In this life and the next there was always laughter
which one was wearing the white robe, it didn't matter
when they came, the crowd would always scatter

'Ah, Phaedrus, my old friend - would you wish to be me?'
'No, master - how could I emulate you and the things you do?'
'But you are a philosopher who travels between civilizations -
I would wish to learn from your soul and inclinations.'

'I learn from the Son of God always - your spirit guides
and nothing hides, even the very core of existence rides
on what you have to say and even what you don't say
beacause you are always with me to this very day.'

'Ah Phaedrus, we shall always meet - see the holes in my feet
and hands, remember them, in deserts and distant lands.'
the clay watched with rented breath
the red robe genuflect before
the dirt-dark nailed wood.

strange words were uttered
choral echoes flew
they too would bend their knees
those veiled long hair
those oval faces with scanning eyes.

the red robe spoke
they moved the corners of their mouths
till they were too far
they nodded, and nodded, and nodded
they did not know how to stop.
the red robe did not speak
he read from two slabs.

the air cracked by a
tip-toe cadence of metallic muttering
they held their breath
but there was panting.

with one unseen flicker
that stole as fast as
light shot from up beyond
perched on that dirt-dark nailed wood
a dove of light of blinding vaporous whiteness.

we hid our eyes.
our faces too.

we only saw a tall slender spiral staircase
that ascended a long, long,
long way.
argus Feb 2015
Tonight I dance alone, in my red robe.
Alone, with what I have come to let haunt my mind.
The temple of solitude is breached.
If I am the Soliloquist,
I have too many voices within me to be heard.
If I am the Sciamachist,
I have too many enemies to hope to win.

Tonight I dance alone, because pleasure eludes my mind.
Alone, excommunicated and,
in some sense,
left behind.
In this river of wine
I love my love with love
Never known before

Don’t walk into this river of hope
wearing a robe
You don’t take a good bath
wearing your gown
Come naked
In this garden
Without clothes, without figs

I am glad
that you found me
How pure a flame now burns
This thirst
with which I burn
#river #wine #known #before #hope #robe #good #bath #wearing #gown #come # naked #garden #clothes #figs #glad #pure #flame #burns #thirst
Ezra Nov 2014
The robe of haze is wet at its hem,
It must have felt the dewy drizzle.

The robe of light is dark at its hem,
It must have seen the solar eclipse.

And your lovely face is spoiled inside,
It must have seen who you really are.
Silence Screamz Sep 2014
I used to love to sing,
with my lads from the alter.
Unison in song
and praised by the fathers.

After the prays were over,
the congregation was home,
a father standing by me,
prowling in his robe.

"Follow me, my son"
with his stern, demanding voice,
Terrified and staggered,
I had no other choice.

Praying for my Lord,
the only way I know.
Make this devil stop,
I only want to go.

Silence to everyone,
no one will believe.
Suffering inside,
makes me want bleed.

Ten years later now,
the pain will only stay,
burning up my soul,
so much left to say.

I will never forgive him,
he committed the biggest sin,
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