-This i've seen time and know too well



Some time ago in a land of snow, there lived an honest young woman named Zilpah Hope Drake.

Though she played by the rules of her society, she could never ever catch a break.

Day and night, her  village ceaselessly accused her of having a dark cloud above her head,

Even her beloved family joined in on bullying her and her best friend named Fred.

Disheartened by the abuse she underwent every day, she was overcome with sorrow,

So Zilpah Hope Drake, desperate to flee her suffering ended her life on the morrow.

I never thought I'd see the day
that I didn't think the pain
would be the death of me.
The pain of a life lived in Voluntary solitary.
I never realized I made myself a prison
when I put my walls up so I didn't have to listen to what they had to say.
Then, one day, I decided to listen to someone new, and their voices finally started to drift away.
But it wasn't the voice of God, or an angel.
It was someone who wanted to be a friend. And that's all I needed to be free in the end.
The message I hope you take from this tale
of woe is that not everyone's out to get you. And some people can even help you grow.

LOTP vo[ɑ]miting verses; a strikingly formi—
[life of the party]
—dable, non-stop rising reserve in
terms of thrills & bliss-providing emotions
a megamart of endorphins in bo[ɑ]dily form, b#tch
an ultimate source of blast, like a bunch of explosives (kaboom!)
you're gonna need an ophthalmo[ɑ]logist service
in the wake of getting an eyeful of A̲[ɔ]ll this
inner li̲ght that I glO̲w with
like a ****** pI̲ne box that's furnished
with LEDs; I̲'ve got a story; it's co[ɑ]mic but... morbid
[consider yourself warned]
[blast, explosives, gunner ("go[ʌ]nna"), (a) wake, ****** pine box]
[get the picture?]
————————————————————————————————
awakened early, go[ɑ]t
out of bed, did some daily morning stuff
wet my somewhat dehydrated gorge with squa[ɑ]sh
then decided to take a morning wa[ɑ]lk
strolling through some great, sun-glowing spo[ɑ]ts
I notice twain alluring gals perambulating shoulder ta
shoulder, all murked out: make-up, clothing, lo[ɑ]cks
[murdered out]
and with their faces dolorous
think: "why are they so jO̲Y̲-bankrupt?"
after taking notice o[ʌ]f
the twosome, like a well-proportioned bo[ɑ]d
["toothsome"]
I put on a Ledger Joker mug
["mug" in the sense of "face"]
mask, outflank 'em, then make my way toward these go[ɑ]th-
-reminding lasses from behind in a sly-a## fashion
just li̲ke those dashing cowl-disguised assassins
[assassins from the "Assassin's Creed" franchise]
O̲nce I'm close enough, like self-sacrificing soldiers o[ʌ]f
islam, I explode releasing the co[ɑ]ntent noted 'bove
bawl: "LIT MORNING, QUIT MOURNING!"
so ear-piercing-lY̲ as thO̲U̲gh my nuts
were being twisted, hI̲t, then blown apart
they seemed to bE̲ in total sho[ɑ]ck
had these two squealing so **** hard
you'd think it's a visual-glory-o[ɑ]b—sessed princess woken up
and seen herself in a mirror old with rucked
skin; the ground's pretty firm & rough
with some edgy stones sticking
out behind 'em; while backwards-stepping, both trI̲p on
those freaking stones, then dro[ɑ]p
like a high-schooler's jaw when he gE̲ts a clO̲se view o[ʌ]f
a centerfoldesque fo[ɑ]x occupied wI̲th her yoga stuff
in the wake of tripping, bO̲th end up
with the backs of their bE̲A̲ns split open, blood
streaming, like getting stuff shown by li̲vestream
stand next to their figures frozen up
like a software piece, while both lie dying
find a lipstick in one of the dismal gI̲rls' pants' front
pocket, then make it look like both died smiling
awaken in the bedroom quarters o[ʌ]f
mine, it's dark, night; I̲ hit
the lamp's switch, then hear: "YOU JOKER SCHMUCK!"
said in a loud, low-pitched, fiend-like tone; my mI̲nd in
that moment's still in the sleeping mO̲de somewha[ʌ]t
which is grounds for why I̲ deemed
it's a wicked version o[ʌ]f
that bat guy here to get me iced; turn my sI̲ght in
["Dark Knight", i.e. the Batman; "Heath" (Ledger), who played the Joker]
[in "The Dark Knight" film; "bad guy", which ties in with "wicked"]
the voice's direction & see the murked-out broa[ɑ]ds
proceeding towards my sI̲de with
their **** peepers glowing blood-
-red, like "s'prI̲se, *****!"
like a Negroni, I stare at 'em thinking: "coldish slug!"
["ice there"; the "Negroni" drink is served with ice; also, it's red]
["coldish slug" - "holy f#ck"; "slug" in the sense of "shot of drink"]
[which ties "coldish slug" in with the ice-served "Negroni"]
utter a loud-voiced cry frightened
witless, or as much
as these goth girls fro[ʌ]m mY̲ dream
then I get pulled out of that creepy horror stuff
by the second awaking as I bawl: "F#CK! DIE, FIENDS!"

he wakes up to the sight of her donning back her clothing
"what a happy moment"
he thinks, then, taking a good look A̲t her, notes in
his mind: "hell, this lass is smoking"
[smoking hot]
like a barrel of a gat unloaded
she, having noticed that her inamorato's woken
up, gives him a salutation: "sweet morning!"
he replies: "so sweet I A̲I̲n't even sU̲re if
it's real; am I having an amazing dream O̲r it's
paradise?" his reply makes the chica giggle
then she replies: "hope it's not wA̲Y̲ disappointing
to hear, but nay, it's still the sinful
world of the living"; she then sA̲Y̲s she was going
to wA̲ke him up were he
in dreamland by the time she would
have been set to tA̲ke off; "I'm sorry"
she continues, - "but I need to
get to my place; I..."; "hold O̲[ɑ]n, if you"
he interrupts her, - "have 5 plus mins to
have a convo, I'd like to say some-thing to
you"; she replies: "I ain't in a rush, mate
so, yeah, I'll give you
an ear", like a side space on a gazette's front page
as he gets himself decent, he strikes
up speaking his mind:
"in this existence of mine, it's the first time
I'm feeling alive, & I'd be dE̲moralized
knowing our encounter's ju[ɪ]st a one-time
thing; you're pretty as a pI̲n-up & nice in disposition, & I'd
like to know you more
there's already something in which we're alike
music types we both prefer
are similar, right?"; she nods her bean in reply
he continues: "I could teach you to write
multisyllable rhymes, which is, besides
music liste[—]ning, what I get myself occupied
with I̲n my off time; I could gift you a bike
I mean, a pushbike, so, you & mE̲, we could ride
together, just like Slim & 5'9"
["write together"; Eminem & Royce da 5'9"]
[who have a bunch of rap collabs with each other]
and if you like some activity I'm
a stranger to
I'd bE̲ by your side
do I have chances to
meet you agA̲I̲n some next time?"
————————————————————————————————
she replies: "wow! handsome, truth
be told, the speech administered by
you has done some damage to
my inner equilibrium; I
will give my answer to
your query, but, like
you, now I feel like venting my mind"
"of course, I̲t's only right
if you too say what you think", - he replies
she asks him I̲f she is right
thinking that, till last nI̲ght spent with her
he's never had something li̲ke this before
clearly implying that that tI̲me's been his first
it feels wrong to him to lie to this girl, but replying to her
query directly ain't more comfo[—]rtable for
him; he gets out, like a crI̲me figure served
his time, with a reply that his per—sonality type's introvert
somewhat surprised bY̲ what she's heard
she notes: "in that nI̲ght club you sure
didn't seem like O̲ne, you seemed
quite co[ɑ]nfident"; "sorry if whA̲[ʌ]t I'm in—
—tending to say is a ******, sim.
to a bad trip, but my condU̲ct was in—
—fluenced by a supplement"
he replies, adding: "but you can be cA̲[ɑ]lm; I mean
in terms of indulging in
substance consumption, I'm no fiend
unlike a leader of a tough regime
that was just a O̲ne-time thing"; she respo[ɑ]nds to him:
"well, that's what matters the mO̲st, 'cause, as
you may recall our joint small disclosure last
night, we're for sticking to the sober track"
————————————————————————————————
she continues her go by add—
—ing: "now, I want you... to know: I've had
a magnificent night; I thI̲nk that's a kind
of thing we both needed"; the guy
nods, thinking: "I̲t's something I cA̲[ɛ]nnot deny"
she continues by noting to hI̲m that, despite
that scene in the night
club that he made
like that game where the MC̲ undermines
a corrupted *****'s reign
just 'cause... hE̲ didn't like
["Just Cause" videogame series]
the stuff the DJ
was playing, hE̲ doesn't strike
her as a ***** of a guy; she adds that she twigs what it's like
to be by oneself & that being a psy—
—chotherapist, as she unfolds herself
to him, her job's providing harmed souls with help
he thinks: "this can't be real", like cold in hell
then he says: "you're... a therapist?"; "right"
she quickly replies, adding: "you seem really surprised"
he says: "wE̲ll, doc, if I
were to guess wha[ʌ]t a girl with such a curb
appE̲A̲l does in life, I'd think it's some-thing that prescribes
being pleasing to eyes"
then he adds: "speaking of whI̲ch, these remind
me of a smile: you've got this green in your eyes"
["grin"]
as she gives him a slight
smile, she thinks in her mind:
"is he really so sweet, or hE̲ simply tries
to increase his odds wI̲th me?"; "alright"
the gal breaks the silence
being 'bout to say something else, but the guy
manages to outpace her timing
saying: "since you're a psy—
—chotherapist, guess it won't hurt if I say that I̲ am
somewhat sick & even evil inside
but to you, I'm a null danger, darling
so stay composed, like a
tune"; she giggles, then says: "you're droll, now ta
your question posed prior: yes, I'm bone down ta
meet with you again"; she gives her phone number
to him, then it hits her: "I still don't know how ta
call him"; she asks: "by the way
you've go[ɑ]t a name?"; he replies: "mine is Blake
and yours?"; she replies: "Lucille"
with a joke on his mind, he says:
"well, that pretty much explains why you babe
are so mind-blowing"; stumped, she says:
"sorry, but I don't think I grasp
what you mean by that"; he says: "Negan's bat"
after which she gives a gentle laugh
[that scene where Negan blows Glen's brains [mind] out with his bat called "Lucille"]
then says: "I'd jest why
I feel like HA̲rley Quin, but I think
that, by this time
you've already cO̲[ɑ]ttoned on wha[ʌ]t I mean"
he says: "an adorable therapist
who's met a sort of odd E̲gg who seems
to be a joker"; afrE̲sh, she gives
him a slight smile; "well, dolcezza, it's
["dolcezza" (Italian) - "honey"/"sweetheart"]
been nice to have a chat
with you", - she starts her response, whereafter adds:
"A̲lthough, A̲s I have
said prior, I need to go"; "wA̲I̲t just a bit"
he says, - "I'll call a taxi cab"
"by the wA̲Y̲, it's on me"
he adds while he grabs some cash
then hands it to her like: "as a sign of favor, no re—
—jections are accepted"; she replies: "um, thA̲[ɛ]nks, it's so sweet
of you, much appreciated; feel free
to hit me up later so we
could pick time & location to meet
the next time"; both exchA̲nge "byes" with each
other, then, taking into consideration that he's
awful at osculating, she gives
him one aimed for his cheek; a blush-making thing hits
his mind, saying he'll need
her to provide him some training in this
kind of stuff; as she walks away, he can't help but gaze at this chick

****, bruh! call a bo[ɑ]mb squa[ɑ]d
'cause she's a bomb—
—shell, whose rear evokes a somewha[ʌ]t
unholy, wro[ɑ]ng thou[ɑ]ght
reminds him of a jihadi-done jo[ɑ]b
'cause this ***'s (boom) banging; this honey's dancing
boldly & lewdly, got his ja[ɑ]w dro[ɑ]pped
she's beyo[ɑ]nd "**[ɑ]t"
this gA̲l's freaking blazing
his hand's in offensive motion for her hind part
a haptic invasion
she moves on from wining to fondling, she's eager
like someone punished by dI̲nt of
a guillotine, his head's lost as she seductively strI̲ps her—
—self naked; she says: "make me
high as a rooftO̲[ɑ]p nearly reaching
the sky; give me a tI̲me so exquisite
that I̲'ll be left speechless
when this ro[ɑ]mp's over"
she's none short o'... a mind-blower, like a gun-toter
blowing a brain of a nazissistic hound wrongdoing
————————————————————————————————
she goes O̲U̲t like jU̲I̲ce in
["juice" in the sense of "electricity"; the "out like a light [electricity]" expression]
the wake of their energetic bout of nookie
as against l'heroi d'aquesta nI̲t that ca[ɛ]n't catch
["l'heroi d'aquesta nit" (Catalan) - "the hero of tonight"]
sleep, like a ham-****** skate cast
a pillowcase at; he's still awake af—
["catch slip"]
—ter more than ane half
of a twenty-fourth of day passed
his mind's got diverse thou[ɑ]ghts
going one after another, like a race track
occupied by sport cars
he's a nobo[ɑ]dy who's ended
up having a great tI̲me with a splendid
woman, which he's now lying in bed with
with his existence being nO̲ne but pathetic
he's been, like a person with whom O̲ne isn't ca[ɛ]ndid
in the dark &, processing the world as highly offensive
from a sociopolitical point, wa[ɑ]nting a vengeance
just li̲ke vigila[ɛ]ntes
he's up in arms, due to pieces of vI̲ce-ridden dreck with
their eyes blinded with pelf &
power; a hE̲A̲rt-damaged a[ɛ]nti—
—hero with little avE̲nues to spout the
anger, who seems to have found a
source of light he doesn't wish to be outta
he hopes she won't slyly desert him
the subsequent morning
if she arises before him

Not in a palace, but rather where purpose redeems,
Cinderella learnt the value of dreams.
She discovered her own brightness
amid the ashes—not by elaborate clothing, but rather with inner strength,  that's surely inspiring.

Despite the loud mocking from her step-sisters ,
she managed to rise above the superficial whispers.
Her inner personality was shown in deeds of kindness;
Her daily compass was patience and righteousness.

Her destiny wasn't sealed by the glass slipper, but it did highlight her great in  her ,
Since genuine magic exists in her heart
So bold that it sets her apart


Ler her path to encourage you to take a chance
It’s when you struggle you will find your stance
Let Cinderella's story be a reflection for you to see
That everyone of us has the ability to set ourselves free .

©Priyanka Bhagat

In the intricate tapestry of love,
the adage "once a cheater, always a cheater"
weaves a cautionary thread.


It is a phrase laden with the weight of experience,
a mantra that whispers of broken trust and shattered vows.


When someone treads the path of betrayal,
leaving the fragments of a once-whole heart in their wake,
the scars run deep.


The echoes of deceit reverberate
in the corridors of love,
leaving those who have been wounded hesitant to trust again.


The notion, "once a cheater, always a cheater," emerges as a defense mechanism,
a shield against the vulnerability of being deceived once more.


Yet, in the realm of love,
the narrative isn't always so black and white.
People evolve, learn from their mistakes, and yearn for redemption.


It's crucial to acknowledge the capacity for change
within each individual.
While the wounds of betrayal may linger,
they need not dictate the course of someone's entire romantic journey.


The human experience is multifaceted, and relationships are complex landscapes.


People stumble, fall, and sometimes, they rise anew, reshaped by the crucible of their own errors.


Love, at its essence, encompasses forgiveness, growth, and the possibility of second chances.


So, while the cautionary phrase carries the weight of wisdom,
it is equally important to recognize the potential for transformation.


People can break free from the chains of their past misdeeds,
learn to value trust, and construct relationships founded on honesty and integrity.


Love, after all, is as much about healing as it is about the initial spark.


In the end the tale of "once a cheater, always a cheater"
is not a universal truth
but rather a reminder that love demands conscientious navigation.


It prompts us to approach relationships with discernment,
to treasure the fragility of trust,
and to foster an environment where growth and change are not only possible but celebrated.