#conquest
There is a bitterness in my stomach.
As I digest that sweet victory.
Struggling to keep it in.
I want to *****
**** IT!!!!
I want to be rid of this pure triumph.
But I need to finish what we started.
I've got to endure until the end.
I can't be certain.
It may very well, be unworthy.
Perhaps I am a fool.
There seems to be no point.
But even the end is out of sight.
I will see it.
What I tasted, what I feel, this that I hold.
The burning won't end.
The grief doesn't falter.
The bitterness of victory is cruel and unseemingly.
Still, I know we can't go back.
Even if I tried.
The loser is defined by his inability to get back up.......
May 17
May 17, 2026 at 11:40 PM UTC
You're heartless and cold
Leaving my heart a mess
You pieced out your soul
Mine fell prey to your emptiness
Was it your plan to let go?
I wonder as I struggle with the process
I believed in what I was sold
You bragged like this was a side quest
I didn't notice I was enrolled
In your narcissistic contest
You were waiting for me to fold
Ready for another conquest
You reveled in my fall
You mocked my best
I gave you my all
You left me the rest
©2024
Aug 14, 2024
Aug 14, 2024 at 8:45 PM UTC
This is some creation creators best?
Eh,
I'm not impressed
I'd hate to see the attempts that failed the test
Must have been monstrous
Hopefully not but most likely numerous
And the couple that was decided on turned out to be a complete mess
Brought on solely by his hubris
Pointless details distract from what comes next
Switching focus from the main quest
To put damages to rest
Staring directly into the dumpster fires conquest,
I notice,
Life as we know it will burn out like the rest
And we've learned nothing from a history that literally leaves no reason to guess
©2024
Apr 17, 2024
Apr 17, 2024 at 4:08 PM UTC
At Austerlitz I two nations vanquished;
making me historically distinguished.
At Marengo I had Austria subdued;
then I was to honour undoubtedly glued.
At the Pyramids, Mamluks kissed the sands;
then like a French Pharaoh I annexed their lands.
At Jena-Auerstadt, Prussia to her knees fell,
to avoid carnage, and possibly hell.
At Borodino, Kutuzov my boots licked,
as his Russian forces had their arses kicked.
At Ligny, Blucher like a coward fled,
as his smitten forces profusely bled.
At Toulon I first distinguished myself
for a career that would exalt oneself.
Rolica, Leipzig, Waterloo like curses came,
but history will forever my triumphs reclaim.
Dec 4, 2022
Dec 4, 2022 at 7:16 AM UTC
Sow my heart into your soil,
surging, sultry crimson oil
melts away your rocky toils,
seething passion starts to boil.
Magma devours fertile ground,
hissing, screeching, horrid sounds.
Land claimed without bound.
The ****** island drowns.
Dec 16, 2020
Dec 16, 2020 at 10:21 AM UTC
Why is there war?
Why do we tear apart our neighbours,
And leave them bleeding on the streets?
Why do we rule?
Why do we seek power,
When we can be stronger banded together?
Why do we ****
Why
Why do we fight?
Why do we fight if we never set things right,
And often ruin our sweet solitude?
Conquest is the first fall.
Conquest is the last rise.
Conquest is the end of all peace
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 7:59 AM UTC
Janus-faced, she sits in her
Sinister bathing tub
Cleansing herself from
Fallen lovers
The very ones
She devised subtle ends to
Lest they should claim
Her heart for a kingdom
Vandals of her plumage
Whom she allowed
To drink from her stream
Once or twice
A god of vengeance sent her
A message in a bottle today
To prove the origin of her flow
And remind her that time is
Fly-by-night
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 11:59 AM UTC
This comes to more than what I post
The life I lived and the moments I lost
In bringing the dreams together
All my wishes flew like butterfly
Birds shedding their feather
I leave each hope behind
Now I just live and breathe in unrest
Because I have got no conquest
Now all I do is wait
Wait to see what is stored in my fate
To turn my life around.
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 6:06 AM UTC
"*...fear is too old in this world,
be the final nail in the coffin...*"
Jun 27, 2019
Jun 27, 2019 at 6:52 AM UTC
I used to rush at everything
I rush at every line
Want it now, need it soon
The dates and time combine
I do despair when it doesn't come
As speedy, as accurately
My timeline, my needs!
Oh, my necessities!
But someone reminded me
of how Life isn't a fair game
If I don't enjoy the slow moments
I'd really lose with shame
Shame, because every moment,
every raindrop has its course
It takes a thousand hours to build the clouds
to bring up a push of sorts
Then that HO2 hits the ground
And as they say, "When it rains, it pours."
By then, with hope, you'll be less lost
and a little more than "found"
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 7:25 AM UTC
Mountains conquest
become insurmountable obstacles
as impatience
endeavour ill.
~~~~
By: Karijinbba
All rights reserved.
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 12:20 PM UTC
A soundtrack from behind the blinds,
fleeting and skittering steps into the rocking water,
crossing the ebbing tide's line in the sand.
I cross the barrier between,
I open my eyes and I see
the castle standing on an arching hill
over the snaking river.
The tower reaches high,
stretching to meet the clouds
and the bricks of the walls sit in piles
of rubble, left to the mosses
and vines that drape their faces.
My vision fades to black and it forms again,
the gray sea and shimmering light appear
as i wade deeper, now up to my knees
in the lifeless water.
Up the spiraling staircase,
a glance through the hole in the wall
as the valley shrinks below
and the hazy purple sky
envelopes the whole of my sight.
The water reaches my chest now,
my steps scraping the rocky bottom
and the white moon lighting the path
forward, reflecting in a white sparkle
on the top of the slow moving wake.
The crumbled roof at the top of the tower
gives way to the dark and starry night.
A hazy mist surrounds,
of a cloud slowly drifting through
like an ambling specter,
on the long march home.
I crouch at the edge,
at the edge of the hole at the bottom.
I fill my lungs with a last breath
and dive downwards,
the gray sea covering me
and pushing me into the lightless cavern.
The mist of the cloud passes
and the view of the valley
is cleared.
I sit at the edge of the tower,
with my feet dangling over the side.
Lost in the stars,
once again my vision fades
But the gray waves do not return,
the white moonlight dimmed and extinguished
as I sigh and sit at the top of my conquest
and remember the days i've lost
in the traceless place,
with its tranquil waves.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
Before my journey
to King Paul's Palace Gala
I received a note
Being curious
I opened it and I gasp
and I fall in shock
My voice has been heard
Now I'll have a new conquest
But first, a small test
One I'm sure I'll pass
Then my studies will begin
Another conquest
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
To stand against the flow
Only grants them the chance
To flood you down
For one final blow
Fear not, you won't drown
The waves grant you a dance
Allow yourself their embrace
From the Lady of the Lake's face
That is taking away your fate
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 6:39 PM UTC
Time is a mysterious thing. One we think too little or too much about as if it was either an extraneous concept or a recognizable one but never simply an acquaintance. We fear to gaze in to its dark eyes for fear of what we’ll see in its untamed structure. Perhaps we fear the absolute freedoms of it in how all its courses are never underlined by incongruous moments such as once that hunt our very existence. Or maybe we’re jealous of how youthful it stays while we slowly deteriorate to our graves as it watches with indifference.
I wish to give time a gender so it fulfils all my assumptions of it. Perhaps it’s a women, gentle and eloquent; with a heart that grounds the most feral of things. Her touch is knowledge and wisdom but also all things unknown. She is sculpted like the goddess praised while her love burns oceans from existence yet she watches alone from a distance quite unreachable. Lonely everlasting. Nonetheless her soul is cruel and unforgiving; her betrayal unexpected. Her expectations to high that even the most eligible of men would not dare attempt such a futile conquest for to even try would be to fail. However her compulsion is too powerful to disregard so no man sits ideal.
Perhaps it’s a man with a will that is ironclad. His grips too powerful for even the greatest of empires to resist so all chose to bend for fear of breaking. He rules like he makes love, with intensity that shatters all the women underneath him but they still come back for more for his touch, his magic stroke. Non who have been touched by him have ever resisted or those who have were swallowed by the tide that was his fury. Yet his heart is gold and he cares more than he expects as his gifts last eternity and from the sweetness of it, just a moment.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 3:25 AM UTC
The Queen's done her course
Now she studies her new maps
For a new conquest
Her inner fire
It will continue to grow
as will her Kingdom
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
Delicacies of darkness,
Intricacies of energy;
Witches of woe
Insinuating that nothing we pass is past,
As all beginnings were long since begun.
Protecting an abnormality,
That would rather be condemned,
By self-centered ambition of men.
An insanity that turns her right, round again.
Now if now only.
Living by wick and glee of natural ability.
You would come and dare,
Old sentimentality and whimsicality,
Rampart of myths and misconceptions.
To indulge in mischievous play
Under the indigo sky,
By the light of a spiral of far fire.
The journey starts by stealing hearts
If only now you would come I should be happy.
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 4:39 AM UTC
So you would conquer the world.
Do what Napoleon and ****** tried to do.
Take all our lands
And submit them to your Law.
But can’t you see?
You’ll never win their hearts.
Some will passively resist you,
Whatever that is.
And others will welcome you with open arms
Whilst waiting for the chance to strike.
Worse still
Your very own “folk”
Will grow green with envy
And plot and scheme
To bring you down.
The higher you get
The nearer that precipice you creep
And the greater your fall.
The bigger you are
The easier target you become.
Paranoia will annoy you,
But traitors will do worse.
Take my advice, my friend
And stay within your patch.
Have no “retreats from Moscow”
On your CV.
Better to win hearts and minds
By making sure
That you are truly Good.
Paul Butters
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 6:26 AM UTC
I’ll do you like your
Eyes
Ask me to,
As relentlessly
As your
Smile’d
Wish, come every our
Encounter.
I’ll do you, like the –
Plastic, porcelain, and
Polymer
Scenery –
Holography and
Hidden drawers,
Once a sin and
Twice a cross.
I’ll do you, as
I’m, and a first,
If only an
“Object.”
I know it, but you don’t.
You love it, but I won’t,
Because you’d only burn,
Come knowing I’m, “taken.”
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
On a new conquest, I embark
Travel light
I found the temple in the dark
Wet, yet warm
Beautiful stems
Curl around my arm
Deeper I go
The water does flow
I feel it in the walls
I hear all of your calls
Carrying on, through the dark damp walls
I found the spot, The spot that has eluded all
A trophy in the form of a waterfall
Cascades over me.
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
ah, enslave without compassion
bound ancestors you must impale
go seek and show no mercy
let those who escape carry the tale
all the sufferers bearing witness
to their ministers spilling their blood
staggered screeches from bleak recesses
regicide plotters bend to the dust
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
slimy enshrinement brings into question
what's divinely lamented for
scatter populations with ruthlessness
let them choose sycophancy or sword
reappoint difficult commanders
for instigation unbroken awaits
kept in frenzy, they whisper confusion
never quite sure of their fate
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
let the cowardly unlock the gates for you
to heroically claim what's inside
crowds you abhor kneeling in wonder
all the world is your ****** bride
punctuate the roads with tollgates
***** monuments to broadcast your name
all your banquet's guests are your enemies
entertain them with one another's shame
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
under your tyranny
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 2:32 AM UTC
Beauty is a war
that must be fought.
She will not
surrender herself
easily.
Gather your strength,
attack relentlessly.
In the end,
you may win
a bit of her
for yourself.
Only do not
imagine total victory.
This war rages
without end.
- mce
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 8:40 AM UTC
They repeatedly boasted aloud
of conquests and victories
for a short period between
their palmy days of youth
and unexpected quick death;
a mad rush of adrenaline
before thought could wake up reason,
nothing more than a basic need
for impulsive violent action,
few drops of poetry could have changed direction,
a death wish triggered by moments of darkness
that invites a chain of tragic consequences.
But thoughtful they were
to hire overzealous writers,
being aware of their need of arming future.
The writers extolled the futile deaths
embellished words, made it look heroic
which really pointed only to a ****** end.
Look at each tomb stones lined
here in the cemetery, once more
see, if the names extolled once are still not eroded.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
Teamwork makes a dream works.
There's no reason for isolation
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
Pulling at heartstrings
Like a harp,
The delicate tremors of angels' voices
That cascade between metal and emotion,
Raw, vibrant crescendos of tears
In the back alley,
Mascara hitting the concrete
Like the raindrops,
Stale and scattered
By the storm that was stirred
In the bedroom the night before,
Passion flashing like lightning
Between the rolling clouds of
Bedsheets and bare skin,
All to wither like the retreating tide,
The rising of trouser legs
Like the Sun,
A walk of shame down a lonely road,
A seagull flying out to sea,
Wings spread beyond vast waves
Of boring bricks and patchwork pot-holes,
Only to flee from the filthy hot mess of another conquest
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC