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Done living double life,
Done executing half-hearted attempt,
Done playing safe game,
Done lying inside safety bubble,
Done scavenging through illusion and mirages.
Finally, I am awakened, I am done drifting.

Now, that I know I am not special,
I am just a common man- a mortal.
Trying to live life in present;
hoping to leave a dent in the process.

I am part of this filthy world
Laden with perfect imperfection.
I want access,
I want to witness,
I want to experience things;
I want to indulge, effacing innocence
With the licentious.

No! No! No! are you getting an idea?
I am not a demon in making.
Least of all- Devil.
You are yet to see the other half of me,
Which I think you will ever see.
Or, perhaps deserve to know.
So don’t come hard at me.
You are nowhere near to judge me.
Don’t call me a savage.
I’m not.
I am just being true to myself,
a bit generous-giving exposure to my alter ego.
Don’t call me sordid- a barbarian.
For being honest, admitting thing or two-
So to say confessing.
I know, for you are no different.
For sure, no exception.
You are nothing but pretending or perhaps unaware of.
I better cherish heinous crime consciously than abstaining
Myself with moral scruple.
For I know now that abstinence will **** us unconsciously anyways.
John Glenn Feb 23
Perhaps the reason why
there are vices
is because people pay
hospital bills
on the heart, the lungs,
the liver, and the kidney

And people
are willing to pay
the price
to know
in them
is valued
Carmen Jane Jan 6
All you can do now is let your tears run down your cheeks
You've destroyed a trust you had it as a gift
How could you restore it , would a "sorry" help?
Would her knees stop shaking, would grudges be kept?

You knew something was not right, when the light stopped shining
When instead of laughters, her soul just kept drowning
She's there in front of you, yet you're too weak to face her
As you can't promise, you are there to protect her

You said yes to your vices and you've lost your daughter
She's only there, in case she needs to protect her mother
Little did you know that was your last encounter
Little did you know, she'll vanish like powder…
Zywa Dec 2019
Giants lived here, we collected their bones
in museums, their spirits in myseums
of status and power, pride and desire

We are the shining oil lamps
in which the spirits live on wishes
that we sometimes cannot control

Then one escapes
and he roams the earth
that gives him weight and makes him heavy

a giant who is way too big
for our world and people
are challenged by him

to unite
against him before all hell breaks loose
destroying everything

Helicopters roar across the country
and turn crazy
in fearfully hiding heads

Time is ticking louder
Bones: of dinosaurs

Collection “The Yellow House Museum"
Issachar Bacang Apr 2019
Dear Lord,

I know their earthly bodies find comfort in its smog,
in the brine, and in the actions that keep them sane

and I ask you, Lord, who is the pinnacle of comfort
to ease their minds and souls and lift them out of pain

in Your mercy, by Your light, by Your loving holy light
so they may never need to smoke or drink again

...Should your friend or loved one be ensnared in the trap of vice
Kumar Apr 2019
Dazed and confused
Confused by a muse
The love was a ruse
The love lit a fuse
A fuse that couldn’t be put out
Not by screams
Not by shouts
A fuse that lit a part me that I’ll never forget
It felt surreal
I felt no regret
A fuse that blew
Blew into a million shard
Cut wounds deeper into my heart
It was theft
Of soul
Of a spirit
But after the muse left
I felt under duress
A mess
An empty carcass of stress
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