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Dominique Apr 28
The middle of a pool of salt-
A Eucharist is said to float.
God's dignity created flesh,
A sacrifice the Pope could bless
If he could only find the shoes
To wade inside the choking blue
To pluck the body from the waves;
A child the doves were slow to raise.
No, there is no God.
If there was that baby wouldn't be choking in the salt, thanks.
Transcendence into the 7th circle
The emptiness a grave remembers when a funeral ends.
You looked into my eyes and promised me we would douse together.
Vanquish together.
You forgot about me
how deeply I cherished you.
How could you forget.
Im nothing left.
The crying of a violin in an empty vessel.
You deceived the entity out of me.
You writhed into my soul, quietly, but still, like the grim reaper lingering at my bed side.
The snake ingesting it’s own tail.
I can show you emptiness like you’ve never seen.
The hesitation to bear something.
Clever in hand, you painted my throat.
It spilled deeply, it spilled sweetly.
A cue to the abyss.
The return of the foul mouthed fool.
They whispered rot.
Their heads turned as they danced around my carcass.
They bathed in my blood, they felt rejoice.
I’ve been worn as a pelt.
I’ve been made a sap to the sickly.
The raven of death gorged my eyes.
The marbles that reflected my pain.
I was blind.
A blind sore stumbling over disparity.
I ruminated into sorrow.
I ripened death.
I married it in a vail of red.
Vows made in blood.
Rebirth.
This is what love feels like when the only person you cared about suddenly feels nothing.
Badshah Khan Feb 11
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 52

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

On your chosen road towards your noble destiny,
Your chosen road may look like a majestic peak,
You may not discover the familiar path from the below,
But there is consistently a possible path above the majestic peak,
You naturally need to climb and see properly by yourself!

On your chosen path you will typically encounter with those,
Who are positively a unholy and a dear saint, each and everyone will;
Naturally direct you diverging the path in many possible directions,
Towards your noble destiny, if you are mystified or undoubtedly lost
Then rest and hold your breath and listen politely to your noble heart!

Listen carefully towards your almighty creator who heartens your dear soul,
He, the specific one who certainly cause you walk, naturally make you climb;
And undoubtedly discover the unknown path above the majestic peaks,
Who divinely revealed the moral truth about the dear saint and wicked to you.

Carefully hold your faith firm and walk towards your noble destiny.
Remember keenly, every noble destiny promptly provide a direct path.
And every chosen path gratefully acknowledges an ultimate end.

Either it’s yours or mine!

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
MisfitOfSociety Sep 2018
Okay,
It goes like this you see.

10pm, on a late thursday evening. I was sweating like a ****** in church. I grabbed my armbands and turned on the shower. It was cold as ice to the touch, but begun to warm up eventually. Thank god my wife remembered to turn the geezer on or else I was going to slap a *****, create waves of flesh on that **** *** face of hers.


Anyway.
After stripping down to my birthday suit, I popped on some shampoo and spreaded that **** in my hair. Creating a burning sensation, tingly, like ants crawling in my head.
Suddenly I was smacked like an unwanted child by the smell of burnt toast in the air,
with the shampoo still sitting in my hair.
I turned around and right before me, something was coming out of the plug hole, like something out of a b-rated horror movie.
Looking like my wife's homemade cooking, **** was alive, and then it lunged at me.
I tell you, if it was not for those Tom Cruise movies lecturing me in the art of total *** kicking, I would be a dead naked man with armbands in a tub, being eaten by the unholy guacamole.

You gotta believe me,
when I tell this story,
This was not all in my head,
You can't just write off what I have said.
I know it must sound insane,
But a mexican's lunch crawled out of the drain,
I beat it's *** like a drum,
like Lars Ulrich at a metallica concert ,
and sent the **** back down the hole it crawled out of.
The devil wanted to bring me down to the deep end,
It is a good thing I bought my arm bands.
What the absolute ****.
Eleanor Rigby Jul 2018
Death
Is
Her
Little
Unholy
Friend.


-- Eleanor
kyle ekay Nov 2017
i am unholy, i have been touched. i have felt the hands of despair, and looked into the eyes of wrath. i have formed bonds with the sloth inside me, found hope in avarice, and not once looked back.

i am unholy, and can only be filled with the envy that resides deep within my bones.

i am unholy, but i am not vain. there is no pride in my soul, and no soul in my body. there is nobody in the world that will hide the mark that you have left.

i am unholy, i have been touched by your hands, looked into your eyes, and mistaken your lust for love. i have formed bonds with your soul, and tied myself to your ribcage. i have allowed my hope to be swallowed, and failed to question the holes being drilled into my happiness.

i am unholy, but you are the devil
You were my poison and I was your cure
You were rotten and I was pure
It was my flower
I didn't know I was the girl of the hour
How could you do this?
It all started with a kiss
The kiss of sweet unholy death
I was pure, until you took my breath
It was like being caught in a downward spiral
My feelings were never vital
I didn't know that either
He said "me neither"
copyright under Delilah wine williams
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