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After all
there was so much to hate
and no one cared
for what there was to love
the least of whom
was himself
and that
was why he drove the cleaver
into the wood
right between his fingers
between yes or no
between bedlam and smug satisfaction
knowing he'd missed the mark
on a whim
should he have succeeded
he would go on a broken man
not because of the mutilated hand
but because of what he would do to himself
should he have abandoned himself
his tattered body
paled in reflection
to the cavity in his soul
where worlds of dreams had gone to die
and he had pleasure in their deaths
how he marched them on
the dreams
pied piper was he
to the vast
sums of fantasy and waylaid plans
beneath him
his scales
his snout and snarl
his wings
a dragon
on a hoard of promised treasures
sure to be expelled
due the ravaging of time
due delinquency and self-wrought disaster
he was an effigy
to the great power of humanity
fallen in grace
subdued by cancerous desires
and poisoned
by fool's love
a rusted bounty
of sham hearts
open and willing
willing his demise
but he loved it
the attention
the destruction
for as it were poured upon him
in him
through him
about him
a pool of toxic ichor
his price for the abuse
was the sacking of the world
the decay of humanity
as they tortured him
they wounded themselves
ever deeper
salt in his wound
was salt in their eyes
rot fed to his belly
became rot in their souls
but they could not stop
they daren't
for they feared his power
they feared
his penchant to rule them
to lay waste to their weakness
mold them
guide them
command them
they feared losing
all their closely coveted lies
that dangled
like snow sequins
about their shivering
cadaverous bodies
wanting for respite
from the cold
of their inimical
and unforgiving
from which
is a closed book
empty save for a warning
that what goes up
will surely fall
but what goes down
into the depths of hell
truth itself
where the ****** break upon their wickedness
shall salvation ring in the deep
and awake the beast
who rises to mount the peaks
another dragon
born for battle
destined to be pillaged of its cantankerous wealth
it gorged on humanity
letting them wear sequins on their bodies
rather than glory
verve for life
satisfaction in the passing of time
and joy in knowing the coming of the inevitable
they feared to be free
for the cage
they thought
fueled their spirits
but it was a charlatan's ruse
smoke and mirrors
hiding the puppet strings
clouding their judgment
obscuring the ability
to see that He was their shepherd
the pastor of their flock
and with him
all doors would be opened
all minds would be free
all bodies would be whole
and no blood
would be spilt
and on into the waking
of eternity...
This poem hits so deep for me.
It came out of some incredibly deep subconscious musing.
The night after I wrote this was incredible. I had an intense and revelatory lucid dream that left me spellbound, empowered, and I was left not wanting of anything for a full week, which is unlike me as I'm usually thirsting for all kinds of experiences that I can't or wont have.

Anyway, I hope this poem brought something to you.
I hope it awakened something in you, as it did for me.


Deep Thought Aug 30
I've struggled with lust for quite some years.

I thought I could handle it on my own.

How self-righteous of me.

Thinking I am the ruler of my life.

False idolatry.

I found out that I cannot do anything without God,

and that makes me feel so small.

So incompetent.

Since the world tells us you can save yourself.

I'm here to tell you that you cannot.

Yet, He loves me despite my sin.

He loves you too, despite your sin.

That's why Jesus had to die a horrific death.

All of God's wrath is put into One.

The perfect sacrifice.
Matthew 17:20 - He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”
Rococo Jun 2
They took me to a hill, bound me to a rock and spilled my innards on the floor.

The woman cried a bitter stream of tears.

The man clutched the knife into his fist.

There was no stop to be had, no pause, there were no angels to come.

The outcome written on the stone below, marked by the scars of countless blades before.

A stream-like crack gleamed with red, its banks welcoming the flow like an old friend.

Someplace else a child is born. Future offering to desperate gods.
solEmn oaSis Apr 16
ang hangin ay may hatid na amoy
at may init naman ang sa apoy
sa tubig, may ahon pag nalunod
sa lupa, may bangon pag natisod

bilangin wari tagong bituin,,,,
upang ang hiling ay makapiling !!!
buhangin din tila ba pag-ibig,,,,
Lutang at pawang sumasalamin !

tulak ng bibig kabig ng dibdib
kung ayaw daw maraming dahilan
puspos o kapos... bawas o tigib
kapag gusto ay merong paraan

para umigi kapupuntahan,,,
lingonin lagi pinanggalingan
sampuan man 'tong pagpapantigan
pasyon ay dinig ng nanindigan !!!
magnilay - nilay
Steve Page Apr 9
Easter can get shallowed up in chocolate.
Zack Ripley Mar 17
it's not about the pain.
it's not about the price.
it's about the sacrifice people are willing to accept
to get what they want. to get what they need.
understanding they're willing to do more than bleed.
because understanding is the first step to earning respect.
and a world with more respect
brings us one step closer to a world of acceptance.
Steve Page Mar 2
The truth and power
of our faith
hangs on the cross,
on the height of sacrifice
on the lengths and depths
Christ was willing to go
from holy conception
to physical resurrection
from passover supper
to Emmaus meal
to fish on the beach
to the promise of a feast
at his Father's high table.

The truth on which we stand
hangs on God made man
and on us made new
all due to our LORD Jesus Christ,
God's Son, our Saviour,
our once and for all time
holy, acceptable sacrifice.

The truth and power
of our faith
hangs on His cross.
Easter's coming.
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