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Pranav kastury Apr 2015
His feet scorched on the burning embers, treaded,
As he sifted through the Nightmares he dreaded.
Weaving his way in and out through the debris,
Cutting himself as he raced for the ferry.
He paused, panting to catch his breath,
And let his eyes sink in the surrounding death.

And behold, what a sight he saw,
Human flesh cut, bleeding and raw.
Mountains of  bodies piled up with Sin
Naked and writhing amidst the splitting din.
And the gong of the bells from the deep chasms,
Resonating with the screams of the dyings' spasm.
Screaming and kicking they went up in flames,
Beggars and kings, lads and dames.

Stumbling he began to brave the road,
Hoping and praying he would reach the ford.
With each step his strong virility,
Started showing signs of debility.
Urging himself to reach the ford,
Where waited the ferryman on his ferry aboard.
He purged all the sinned who embarked,
The magnificent ship on the banks, parked.
Leading them on the infernal waves,
Over the lofty hills and the deepest caves.
Until they reached heavens door,
Freeing them from the sights of blood and gore.

As he ran, he saw high atop a tree
Whose branches were stripped off leaves, free.
A large bird with molten black eyes,
Gorging on both men and mice.
He saw that it was a vulture
Tearing a man and leaving his lungs rupture',
Quickening his pace he crept away from the bird,
Camouflaging himself with the dying herd.
Thinking he had passed the demonic beast,
Who was busy helping itself to its feast,
He slowed down and moved with care,
Only to be stopped by a shriek high in the air.

He looked up with great unease,
With sweaty eyes and shaky knees.
The vulture jumped up with a great swoop,
And circled the man in a closed loop.
"My, my," it cried, landing next to its target,
"Are you trying to escape my food market?"
"No, no!" He whimpered and crowed in fear.
"You will not reach the ford, my dear."
Said the vulture in a pitched cacophony,
"you will not hear the heavenly symphony,
As one draws close to one's destiny,
For the feral beast in me,
Will not allow you to let it be."
"Please," he cried. "Let me see,
What is meant for me."

The vulture roared in laughter,
Cawing and rocking faster.
So much it was immersed in mirth,
That it didn't see its prey of large girth,
Try to slip away precariously,
From the gaze of the bird which was nefariously,
Waiting for the moment to take the plunge
And drive its beak through the man with a lunge.

With a shriek, it jumped up in flight,
Spreading its demonic wings blocking the light.
Swooped down at the man and spread its wings,
Opening its beak as it sings,
The death hymn that flowed from his beak crescent
Echoing through the emptiness as it made its descent.
The man gazed in fear at the looming death,
With unblinking eyes and taut chest held with breath.
Looked up to the heavens and screamed "God!"
The vulture chuckled and reached its prey, with eyes agog.
Covered the man with its monstrous plumes,
With its beak dripping of drool, in flumes.
Drove it deep into the mans heart,
And made him part of its food mart.
this is the first poem I have penned and I hope its appealing to all sorts of viewers, as it is very brutal and gory
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
Your voice echoes in the halls of my mind,
Fills them with a few sweet memories
Just enough to get by until the day I die,
A vague impression that at least someone
Had love that I could seek or find the vine.

But in the end we'll all be in the room,
Standing before the alter, right? Judged.
Some sort of ideal of someone who is
Angry at the world and wants them
To get what's coming to them, no way
To break this cycle with patient time to lend.

Bitter sweet this whine, it grasps at straws,
Seeps its way into our hearts and minds
Where it finds there is someone divine,
That which we must all face his wraith,
"He'll" be the one, this God, his kingdom vast,
To fill our world with firey pain if we all
Don't confess and repent again and again.

No, I'm not here to argue that a God can't exist,*
Or tell you that no one made this world,
That we can't find ourselves in a better place to live,
All I'm saying is that if there were such a person,
Someone behind the mask who made all of this,
They'd certainly not be here to seek so much
A way to make us to pay for every wrong we ever did!
Marisa Lu Makil Apr 2015
The greatest lie I've ever told:
I'm fine.

The greatest food I ever had:
boreg.

The greatest book I ever read:
I know why the angels dance by Bryan Davis

The greatest sin I have ever committed:
making someone like me

The greatest thing I ever said:
"it's okay to cry."

The greatest thing I ever did:
hold someone and tell them everything is alright.

The greatest moment in my life:
a car drive with two friends

The greatest thing I ever heard:
*"He who testifies to these things says 'yes, I am coming quickly.' Amen, come Lord Jesus"
Asa D Bruss Apr 2015
Reset pv4 pin ID add host lvl
with my broken concentration,
while the reboot computes and
command prompt prefers
and no I don't have the router,
but yes I'm an administrator.
Who is in charge,
and who is punishing me?
Superstition sends me around back into the
Ground beef while I'm repenting of my sins
to get my hard drive running smoother,
like it's a catholic father
who just gets crotchety in the presence of gigabits
and lil ***** who won't behave
and condemns this piece of crap to an early grave.
Oh, but maybe it's just I need to unscrew and then pull out and blow off and put back in...
doubting it all again and a big circle starts anew.
Just one of those days of realization.
Poetic Artiste Apr 2015
I tasted heaven on her lips.
How can love so pure,
Be piercing sin?
If the shadows of hell,
Are where I shall be outcast alive,
I'll go so willingly.
Behind scarlet flames,
The beauty of our love survives.
Love who you want to love <3
aar505n Apr 2015
All roads lead to Calvary
It's three hours of agony
away from friends and family
To get there you'll need more than bravery.
A man did died there
for baring our sins
so we wouldn't have to.
We remember him in glory
for dying for us.
And we sinners turn to prayers
But this is a fallacy
Appeal to the stone
because it cannot be disproved.
I have no time for circular logic.
So live in ignorance
That only the dead man on the cross
can provide salvation.
Born to sin and die in sin.
Pin down by fervent belief
Even though he spilled blood
for us, makes no difference.
Say your prayers.
Meaningless repetition
Just as bad as the pagans
So repeat it till the day you die.

"Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour our deaths, Amen."
*ad nauseam
3rd April 33AD, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews, did died
Lauren A Todd Apr 2015
All the little cars pull into their little church
As concrete steam slyly reminds us of the temperature.
The night sticks to the bottom of our feet
While the sins of Tuesday
Stick to the palms of their hands.

And all the pews are filled
With the drooping eyes of tired members
As they beg their minds to
Absorb each word of “wisdom”
Offered from the mouths of the “holy.”

Censure seeps from the sideways glances
As the mothers move through the lobby.
***** water spills from their mouths
While the laundry is aired through lofty sighs.
As if they, themselves had no other chores.

Little girls hide from those mothers
Pretending straws are cigarettes
While yelling at invisible boyfriends
As if somehow that is the mark of maturity.
But how else should they play “grown-ups”
If not by mirroring?

Pulling away from their shrine of insolence,
Those mothers point at me across the street.
“See what happens when you don’t stay in church?”
They’ll say to their daughters
Because I no longer pretend straws are cigarettes,
And only siren songs are heard from these lips.
Daniel Thorne Mar 2015
It's funny how it works,
Easy said, hard to do,
But He asks us for our trust...
What restrains you?

Is it the fear of the unknown?
The darkness of sin?
The pain of failure?
Or your demons within?

I really can't tell you,
How to take a leap of trust,
But if you want to succeed in life,
My friend, you simply must.
Hard stuff.
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