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Rachel nature is a *****. Keep Christ off your tongue, fat sows.

You will work now, lazy liars.

Abusers of the spirit, nothing will stop your punishment.

Suffer in gags, like you spit on saints, SO YOU WILL KNOW.
Iceberg of the Eternal

You say I'm crazy
Cuz you don't think I know what you've done.
You WILL pay every ******* penny.


You did not bring balance to the force but left it in darkness; an eternal curse on your disgusting families, demon pigs ****.

I hate the taste of ignorance, blind 'bros". GOD

Your vulture's nest will be rooted out, *****.

~The Chosen One, cleanser of parasites.
Persephone Sep 2021
She sat high up in an oak tree
Surrounded by a forest filled with mossy greens,
busy birds, and meandering creeks
But at the moment that world was of little importance
For in another she was battling thieves, sailing the nineteen seas, and becoming a queen
Naya May 2021
I see your beaming light
I see safety in your arms ahead,
I'm coming home to you.

I sail towards you,
I am so happy.

but you turn your light off,
and I see nothing.
all that's ahead is darkness amongst these crashing vigorous waves.

You send me away,
so far away and I don't know why.

I drift endlessly into this unlit sea,
along with these bewildered thoughts I have of you.

I sail away,
sadly so far away from you.
The sea brings you to me
To the aroma I smell
Fresh air in there
The sun sets its light to you
And I get that reflection
It is so beautiful
When your eyes and mine staring each other
The seagull flies between ours
The sea brings you to me
And I sail until the wind blows my love to you
Indonesia, 16th March 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
breeze Mar 2021
The wind takes it all, then why am I happy?
The storm sparks a wave, then why do I chase it?
I know in this case, it might crush me one day.
I, though, being silly, perceive it as blessing!
Anemone Dec 2020
So stay away and leave me behind
The wind blows your sails
But you don't know what treasure I'll find
Cause I'll walk and I'll swim and I'll run to the ocean to find

Baby, it's true

The wind blows my sails
Faster and powerful than ever before
The gust fills the breeze and I'm back looking at the trees
And the land I once knew before

But know I've found you
In the breeze
A place I never thought I'd get to know
It's here a story so old
And a place so new in my heart
A place to start

The wind in my sails pulls me forward and I will not depart
Because I feel the breeze taking me where I don't know
I need to go
And I will find it
The sky above me
The waves the sails the sea
And I will find a place to call my own
A place on the sea
I'll find a place to call my home
Dante Rocío Aug 2020
Though another day passes,
once having arrived,
cinnamon sunny
with a misguided preaching
from a catholic church,

I recall our gorgeous
misty evening
right by the waves
from yesterday
and its one peculiar
my dad pointed to
a far away regatta
sailing in
a distance
whilst standing to my
right and asked
me not quoting

“Do you know why
I wanted to go
to the sea?
The vastness of that body,
no endings in infinity,
no one to tell me
what to do,
and once you sailed away
from the harbour
it was just

Whilst I was on my night shift
at the very front
of the ship
on my ever first voyage
by sea,
heading to
England from Gdynia,
I felt as if I
was the very first
man to discover the oncoming
like Cristopher Columbus
with his dear Santa María
breaking the waves”.

Yes, Dad.
I would add,
settled in my question

“Why do I long somehow
in smaller
or bigger
ways too at
times for that
aforementioned harbour
and otherness with so many
sounds, details,
lights and
dancing dangerous like
knives in a tavern
For so similar
so privately schemed
departures I paint?”,

I would answer
without Brain,
even if it would be solely
in perfect, dreamy way

“Because there is
some greater and
truer breath
of mine held out
by a foreign hand
or by standing lonely
from the other mirror’s side
in front of some tremendous
waves of Kanagawa,
hugging itself small
yet with fearless Child’s
patience, like
the Young Verter
on his painting.
Some more abstract
with charisma image
of me there
stands, flowing
instead of walking,
through called aisles.
Beige coat into the
blue falling.

The No Man’s Skies
and Lands
(or yet
Of Some Men)
to be felt with all
the body and
upraising in all hues
and minute sacrifices
in speechless
like lagoon’s turquoise
water that would shine
in a cave’s dark
with krill dancing.”

Some upholdings,
some blind images
and all rest
and light with grey
whose voicing
I cannot make,
not just to keep
it in immaculation
to stay non-maimed.

The Missing.

Why do I keep having this dream?
These might be now only flickers
Of a proof to come and test it once for all.
Probably a family inheritance
I get in blood or sight
From Adam
So often yet at times
Madeline Hatter Aug 2020
I am not a sailor.
I desire to run.
Confine me not to a puddle dependent on the wind.
Direct me to the forest, the hills, and I will create my own draft,
as I speed across the ground,
flying over earth to distances greater than the confines of your wet berth.
No, I relish a solid state of matter beneath my feet.
I am a fire sign.
Warning: do not get wet.
Nylee Aug 2020
Where did you sail
            Inland and
all of a sudden
  out of my dreams
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