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Max Neumann May 2020
sun in the creases of the hand
white roses withered
vengeance of shades and misery
vendetta-machinegun

israeli uzis and sand
a child's grin is the big fire
in the iris of the lion; right?
the lion is a dead radio
Today is a good day.
Fheyra May 2020
...
My Spirit, I dropped
My neck, how tragic!—
Oh, why was I doomed?—
What a shame of love,—
Beset me for living
How poor was my trial?—
That king caught me— Just to be his vice!
Surely, I was a noble queen—
'Til the justice defied me..

Coined by 30 years,— Now deriving for 25 years,
This automatic era seemed haste for me,— Where people work less with limbs,— And more with chained machines
All tenses are verbose,— of such faint vision;— When all the dots meet,—
Perhaps, gallops are faster than wheels.
--...
Whenever I daze in my reflection,
I morbidly feel the bruised mark on my pelvis,— whence Homer penetrated it,— And this slit scar on my nape— of my husband's infidelity
Oh fate, may thou all wrath in flames..

I was not an outlaw!—
Thou all praised a sculpture,—
And smashed it, when it was bore!
Thou bidded swears— To a bedswerver's norms!
My downfall revealed thy disgraced offerings— Traitors!

—My poor, poor queen— Do not weep,
    For I shall be great,— This lady will
    dissect the hypocrites, and clothe
    the faithful—
    I shall be the image of your tragedy
    and glory
    This is the order of my commitment
    I am a ponent;
    I am a defender.

Quote our testament:
"We art the culprits and victims of our own plot. If an admiring rogue invades thy core, it shall weakened thou as culprit into an ever victim— To be held in judgment, and to be both perceived as no innocent."

—The conviction of worldly accomplices,
    This shall be the vengeance of an obsolete sentence.—

Altaira, with me,—
Thou art neither a corpse—
Nor a bit of ash;
'Tis the time for ruling
Your Majesty—
Cheers to the jury..
This is the final sequence! The whole story was about a woman having her past life regression, and in her pasf life, she was a queen who was betrayed and beheaded. The rage of the queen still lives in her body, but her present self knows that she should be persistent to provide justice for herself, and to her country.

Remember from "Rituals and Joviality", the Spirit is the voice of the Psychologist that helped her meditate and see her past life. The "Saith the name of an Altar maiden" line referred to a command, for her fo say the word, "Altar", because it resembles the name of her past self, which is "Altaira".

Now finally, she became a judge in the end.
Justice is served.
Manpreet Gill Apr 2020
Hot winds caused the charming petals to wilt,
Withered leaves slept under the dew quilt,
The sky looked red and fawn,
Rays of sorrow broke the dawn,
Icicles of trust started to melt,
Roses of love resembled a welt,
Cerulean oceans of wisdom turned black,
Light sleepers don’t like the busy track,
Life goes through phases like the moon,
Sky belongs to those who break the cocoon,
Graves have no room for grudges or vengeance,
Have no ill-feelings or hate, but only reverence.
Laura P Apr 2020
Do not go gently into the night,
Do not tell me what I can’t,
For I’m like fire.

I will rise again...
Tara Apr 2020
Little scorned outcast,
all grown now and strong
Finally found somewhere he could belong,
but little scorned outcast could not forget
the toil, the tears, the blood and the sweat.

First he came for father, old and weak,
took his shotgun and pointed at cheek
The trigger 'twas pulled, Daddy was no more
but there were more than he to come for.

Mother was next, humming in her chair,
when she saw him her eyes bulged in stare
The scarf she doth knit for beloved son
wrapped tight 'round her neck before she could run.

Brother was out, throwing hay in the field,
strong and broad, poor wretch would likely be killed
But nimble and quick, took rusted scythe in his hand
spilled brother's own blood on brother's own land.

Lastly was fair sister, slept by the fire,
a quaint pretty girl nonetheless fated for the pyre
Her innocent face free from her deserved guilt
the wretch took knife from the table and buried its hilt.

Finally free from burden of the past,
the poor, little outcast looked his last
at last complete in his vengeful plight
the wretch no longer; disappeared into the night.
Tara Apr 2020
Helpless and forsaken,
runt in the mud
Cry for your mother,
call for your family mistaken.

Left in the cold,
left to die in the rain
Cry for your father,
as you feast on the mould.

Shivering small wretch,
surely soon dead
Cry for your brother,
while you sleep in the ditch.

Forgotten and famished,
all alone in the world
Cry for your sister,
as you shake in your anguish.
Flora Apr 2020
Nature with folded arms seemed to be present everywhere;
Like the sun, like the stars, as a means of hope everywhere.
When the hours of days are numbered, you are the voice of the night.
When the blanket of darkness covers the sky, you are the stars of light.
Gentle Spring, warm Summer, glorious Autumn, Snowy Winter,
I see you in all the seasons, the majestic brain child of the creator

O Nature, you are the means of romantic musings to the poet.
You are the song of solitude; You are the sermons of the priest.
Alas! How have you changed from this fair scene?
How do I see vengeance amidst the woods pleasant and green?
Battles, you have won; lamentations I hear everywhere.
I keep treading in search of my gracious mother Nature somewhere.

O, why have you become the silent interrupter of our dreams.
Avenging us for our blunders and leaving us in dreadful scenes.
I see how the waters laugh at my follies.
Can I seek   forgiveness from the heart, where always love lies?
I breathe a prayer of repentance, for the mistakes which are to be repeated never
Never forever; forever never......
Lee Carter Mar 2020
Did you revel in my exile...
Did you enjoy their praise?
Their blind belief that you would save them
At now, the end of days?

You ignore the mortals' plight
Yet still you are their king.
They love you for all they have,
But pain is all you bring.

Your sheep in shepard's clothing
Who claim they speak your words:
Lambs leading lambs to slaughter
A mass of bleating herds.

You take my wings for these wretched things
And proclaim that you're divine!?
I've come to storm your gilded gates
And claim what is truly mine!

So I have wrought a tide of brimstone,
A sea of hate and fire!
An ocean of forgotten ******
With song of sinful choir!

At the precipice of your paradise,
Meet me and despair.
War for a kingdom too large for you
And much too small to share...
Fredy Sanchez Mar 2020
This is a story now long forgotten
Of how cruel the world can be,
Situated in a world that was so rotten,
Where men were as evil as they could be.
There was this man you see,
Tied to his wife but never had he felt so free.
Living happily,
He was young and newlywed,
Content he laid on his bed,
Keeping worries and problems at bay,
For his days were never gray.
Because his wife was next to him,
Everything was perfect or so it seemed.
But envy, old as the snake itself,
It corrupts the brain and poisons the heart,
And in this story plays a big part.
For the man's brother who we'll call John,
Had envy tattooed to the bone.
He hated his mother, his brother even himself,
And thats how our story begins.
The man of our story whose name I forgot,
Was really a doctor from a small town,
 on a sad night he was called down.
A strange woman was standing outside his front door.
He thought he had seen this lady before,
But he couldn't place where,
The doctor good and fair
Asked:
- ma'am, what seems to be The problem at hand?
She fibbed through her teeth like only the liars can:
-I'm sorry good doctor for bothering you at night,
Is just drunk as he was my husband got into a fight.
Without another word the doctor readied his horse,
And to the pub he set course.
Little did he know
That night he was to be delivered a fatal blow.
For in the shadows John was waiting,
He saw his brother's image on the distance fading.
He paid the woman without care
A life for a miniscule fare
And with malice in his eyes he made his move.
He forced the back door,
Walking carefully almost not touching the floor.
Slithering through the furniture,
Looking for his prey with no sign of ineptitude.
He stood next to her room.
Inside ignorant was she of her impending doom.
Her brown long hair danced with the wind.
While outside waiting was the fiend.
Through the cracked door he stole more than a glance
Staring dumbfounded, as if in a trance
Jacqueline was her god given name
Her spirit, like her locks, too wild to tame
She walked to the window to see the night sky.
She morosely watched the heavy clouds glide.
And in an instant he moved to her side.
He forcefully grabbed her head,
Threw her violently against the bed.
And what he proceeded to do we shall not tell.
Because you can imagine it well.
In vain she struggled against his chockeful grip.
She yelled, screamed and kicked.
But he wouldn't let go until he was done.
And like the wind her sanity was gone.
So wishing death would come like never before,
Bereft of any hope she laid on the floor
Bleeding out forlorn tears.
When faced directly in front of her fears.
Who knew one person all this havoc could wreak
He ominously crouched so she could hear him speak,

You filthy *****!
I'll walk out that door
And never again will you see my brother or me,
I know this is the way is supposed to be.
For is your fault I committed this act,
You tempted me, that's but a fact.
As he said this he lit up a match and threw it calmly on the bed,
The fire spread.
And the sky wept.
The doctor was soaking wet,
Furious for being lied to he cursed under his breath.
And headed on home,
Where he knew he was to be welcomed.
By his beautiful wife,
The one he swore he'd be with for life.
But the image he saw shocked him to the core.
Because where his house stood before,
Hell was unleashed with no restraint,
Only the wicked were here no saints.
The culprit was there standing still.
Of the fire he couldn't get his fill.
Laughing was he.
His eyes jumping with glee.
Then his gaze fell upon his brother's shocked look.
The doctor's pain, his anger overtook
The towering inferno served as the only light.
As He stood speechless watching her dress burning in the night.
While The fire behind them painted a fenereal scene
John's real intentions were yet to be seen

And After wishing he could turn back the clock
He woke up from his initial shock
And
Now The Doctor's lone thought was avenging his late wife
Unconsciously hellBent on ending his brother's life.
He carelessly launched a blind attack
Which John masterfully parried and countered back
And was bout to deliver the last blow,
When he said. I just want you to know.
It was you, who she was calling,
When to hell her soul was falling
He flashed once again that sinister grin
And was bout to commit yet another sin.
When be it for nature, luck or a higher being.
From the skies lighting came down and struck the fiend.
He fell next to the doctor who was struck too.
And a black crow next to them flew.
To serve as a witness to their farewells.
Serenated in the distance by the city bells..

John said nothing as he entered Hell...
And our doctor had so little time yet so much to tell...
Even a second without his Jacqueline
Was an eternity too long
He would gladly face his reckoning if he could only right this wrong
This was my best attempt at honoring the great Allan Poe
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