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A Sin! A Sin! Yet one i shall keep!
For whatever we sow,
Together we reap!
Mia Kuhnle Dec 2018
Our affections are resinous
By the grindstone, made

Our patience tasteful impressions
By words, sweet turpeny made
Ever-growing since.

Our laughter like camphor
Sowed by thyme, made
Love, after.

Your love is unwashed
Grown and ground, made to steep
Cherry beans, grown in their burgundy glove.
Nyx Dec 2018
When emotions well up
Annoyance and anger hits me
Recentment burns
Yearning to be set free

And reluctantly I let it
Slowly seep its way through the cracks
Waiting for the perfect moment
Where it can launch its final attack

Silently it brews
Subtly it shows it way
Be attentive and pick it up
As then we can begin our play

Where we act so innocent
Oblivious to what surrounds
Hands over our eyes
Refusing to make a sound

Let's see what you can do
Tho your actions won't go unanswered
In the end you'll reap what you sow
But until then nobody has to know

Except for me my dear

When the flames around you roar
And you scream out to the sky
There will be nobody left around
Who will listen to your cries

Its funny how things change people
Into beings they use to resent
And when their time comes
Its their turn to repent

And you hear the little whispers
Amongst the friends that you hold dear
No longer knowing the reason
They refused to keep you near

You never could see it though
You were always searching for more
Taking for granted everything you had
There is nobody left to adore

I hold no sympathy
As this was your doing

You reap what you sow

Blade Maiden Aug 2018
I'm a hopeless dreamer
A full-blown love-believer
An apologetic oversharer
Might as well give you my preprinted waiver

But I don't need anything
from this funny little human thing
you call a heart and stand tall
Non-believers can't get through my make-believe wall

And you're the biggest one of them all
Push and pull, careful, you might be the one to fall
Never heard of "we reap what we sow"?
Your love was only a glancing blow.
Danial John Feb 2018
Every weekend, I sow the seeds
And then reap my harvest.
Until death I’ll try my hardest.
The devil should be scared when we meet.
Initially, it was an innocent feeling
A longing to escape treacherous lives.
In one season the seed was sown,
And in another hope was reaped.

Before long, the path to new lands was paved.

Differing thoughts bound by creed,
Met at the river of blood
Parting between Ebony and Ivory.
It was grief that sheltered them.

At home, it was prosperity that was desired.
Love was for Lady Success, yet unrequited.
But amongst the best, the love brought setbacks,
And amongst the worst, it carried envy.

Thus the path to wealth blocked with thorns and thistles.

The seeds sown among the thorns,
Are the peerless seeds.
But disillusions of wealth and pleasure choke them,
*Reaping nothing but unfruitful labour.
joel jokonia Jan 2018
I choose to have a choice
Let my voice be heard
Me no mind not if their ears dead
As long as I let free my thoughts

Choosing to have a choice
Not a ticket to wisdom just free will
Willingness to take the blame when miseries fly in
Reaping from choices we making

Still when crowded with evils
Our fingers will find one to point
As the point of what we reaping
Forgetting our choices

A choice may be small today
But results will come in due time
U may choose to sleep with her today
Kiss him tomorrow
Be friend them this week
Sow all these choices
And let time decide your reap

Don’t blame me
Nor her
Or them
You chose these to be part of your life
You chose your friends
You chose
It’s a pity you chose bad
Cause Good choices exist
Nabs Oct 2017
He write in bread crumbs,
trails of clues that will not be found because the birds have eaten them. Fleeting, unremarkable, but it feeds and feeds and fills empty stomach. Unfulfilling but full.

( Most of the days that is so much better than being hollow)

Over the years, the forest grows.
Grasses mold it self into canopies, rooftops that shields him from the light. A darkness that blinds but pulsing with warmth. Branches twisting towards each other, entangled in each other stories. 'write better' they whispers.
Flowers will not blooms but the sweet smell of honeycombs wafts through the air like hunger.

( we are hungry and hungry and lonely tell us stories, tell us more more more more please moremoreore-)

So the path to home become unrecognizable. Intangible, flickering as if it wanted to be real.
He feels kin ship down to his bones and whimpers fall out from his mouth, quivers but does not fold.
He curled but life would not, will not let him bend.

What should a man do if he cannot curve, cannot bow and break? They all said that to achieve greatness, he have to taste 'broken' on his tongue. Ripe to the point of decaying, fingers sticky with black honey.

He let his teeth chatters, secrets flew out of his mouth like love letters. Carved into him self are the promises made by breakers and yet, honesty is what he sounds like. A forest is an illusion, they say. Wrap your perception until everything look the same and there is only doubt in your self.

( After all everything have to protect their heart)

Peeling barks, bleeds. He bit his lip, wounds are his lovers but everyone knows that love is treacherous. There is a little boy and a man. There is Him, the one who only grows and feeds but never fulfills. 'Isn't that enough?',he asked.
This was what you sow into me, you make me grow into a man but not a human. So he becomes,
forest isn't the only thing that can burn.

( How do you escape your self?)

This is a mirror house, a forest where every trees are your thoughts, their roots are your beliefs, and their seeds are your doing.

(most of the times, it become your own undoings)

You reap what you sow, but what if you are the one  who was sowed.

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