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#falseidols
He spoke his pronouns and tensed before the door. His sword, more ancient than the sanctum where he stood, swayed like a flickering flame, like a leaping fish caught in the silver light of dawn. Yet, no sound returned, no echo comforted his claim, just the dust that swirled in glittering gyres to rest again upon the floor. He called once more, and then, in the silence trembling, whispered one last time: “They, Them…” His tears smudged among the ancient motes gathered there beneath his feet. The long dead sconces gaped. The winds that circled in their siege groaned with a slakeless thirst, pounded with a solemn fist, but still, it stood, The Ebon Keep — too ancient to recall the eye that measured, the back that hauled, the hand that laid the stone that still disdains the lineage of wind and rain and all who came before the one who stood and called. Such freedoms fought that brought him here, such perils overcome, he who stood against the dice of fate, that bears upon each face a one. He gave a wretched shriek, in descant to the keening wind, and bent his shoulder to the stone and pushed with such a force that broke the seal, and sent him prone upon the floor — as once those ancient acolytes had done. There he gathered to one knee, witness to the Holy of Holies whispering in its reliquary; then he turned and bowed before the golden throne, but there he found, long dead and turned to bone —the faded motley of a man, crumbling like sand to the shudder of wind on stone; so too, his rotten teeth rattled in their jaws that out-endured his juggling rings, his leathern ***** whose gut and cord spilled out upon the floor. Though the bells upon his shoes lay tumbled on the stone, his lute unstrung, yet, there still endured the whispering hum of that lost Covenant; and to This he turned and spoke again, unanswered, declared one last time, and unavowed, took his seat upon the throne.
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May 1
May 1, 2026 at 4:59 AM UTC
The Ebon Keep
He spoke his pronouns and tensed before the door. His sword, more ancient than the sanctum where he stood, swayed like a flickering flame, like a leaping fish caught in the silver light of dawn. Yet, no sound returned, no echo comforted his claim, just the dust that swirled in glittering gyres to rest again upon the floor. He called once more, and then, in the silence trembling, whispered one last time: “They, Them…” His tears smudged among the ancient motes gathered there beneath his feet. The long dead sconces gaped. The winds that circled in their siege groaned with a slakeless thirst, pounded with a solemn fist, but still, it stood, The Ebon Keep — too ancient to recall the eye that measured, the back that hauled, the hand that laid the stone that still disdains the lineage of wind and rain and all who came before the one who stood and called. Such freedoms fought that brought him here, such perils overcome, he who stood against the dice of fate, that bears upon each face a one. He gave a wretched shriek, in descant to the keening wind, and bent his shoulder to the stone and pushed with such a force that broke the seal, and sent him prone upon the floor — as once those ancient acolytes had done. There he gathered to one knee, witness to the Holy of Holies whispering in its reliquary; then he turned and bowed before the golden throne, but there he found, long dead and turned to bone —the faded motley of a man, crumbling like sand to the shudder of wind on stone; so too, his rotten teeth rattled in their jaws that out-endured his juggling rings, his leathern ***** whose gut and cord spilled out upon the floor. Though the bells upon his shoes lay tumbled on the stone, his lute unstrung, yet, there still endured the whispering hum of that lost Covenant; and to This he turned and spoke again, unanswered, declared one last time, and unavowed, took his seat upon the throne.
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he lost his way, he knows not when. chasing false idols he mistook for men. he'd lose the child, if he only knew then - he'd find a way to be a man again.
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Nov 18, 2024
Nov 18, 2024 at 1:24 PM UTC
un-man
I've been a slave so many times. I've been a slave to ***** and vaginas, to poverty and the streets. I've been a slave to opiates and poetry brutality and love. I've been a slave to the flesh and my addictions, good intentions galore. I've been a slave to beauty and hatred, passion and desire the flame and the fiery dance with death. I've been a slave to the crowd and the pedestal the morning glory women, and their spells. I've been a slave on the slow ride to hell. So for the last time, I'm done with slavery. Go find a new **** to control. This rooster is going back to the barnyard, chase the horses and hens. I promise I will crow at the freedom-soaked dawn.
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Mar 24, 2020
Mar 24, 2020 at 1:18 PM UTC
I've Been a Slave
She draws attention with spellbinding dance, No man has ever looked and looked away. So much mistaken beauty for romance, Those men who see with just their eyes, her prey. Her body is the uniform she wears, Nubile and innocent in father’s eyes. Enchanting beauty fueled by endless stares, Of men who see with blindness idolize. She’s only all the beauty, nothing more, And nothing else she ever wants to be. The promise of a Siren on the shore, Exposed to every ****** on the sea. She’ll never lack for men she can control… Just not men who see Beauty with their soul.
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 12:10 AM UTC
Sonnet To Beauty And Blindness
I walked into our chapel shoulders back, head high, dignified. No Catholic shame forced my eyes to the mosaic aisle Trodden Over by my Sandaled feet, It was a feast day, praising God with our laughter and shared beneficence. We joined in joyful prayer, receiving each other's sacrament with the reverence of saints but just as I sang the psalms the loudest there came an unholy silence, Believing I was being tempted, I fell to my knees, contemplated your wonder waiting for your return to your prodigal lover; squandering our sacred time, not counting the blessings of our moments of grace. I hung upon my silent cross, weeping into my wine-soaked rag Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani   Descending into Despair, Waiting for an Easter that I swore had been prophesized, Even upon your high holy return, you seemed resurrected, and yet I not saved. I felt like Moses on his day of death beholding the promised land covenanted by souls and yet remaining in this desert thirsty for the wellspring that seemed to be sitting behind your eyes, the water that would quench my forever thirst. Despite the ache in my dried mouth, I'd find the will to stand upon my feet, tired of relying on a charitable heart's sympathies as my means of living. But I found that I was praying for too much from you and I fell upon my knees again, wondering if humility is meant to leave you feeling this broken. And so begins the litany of sacrifices wondering if you are my love made flesh why it is I who is scourged, stripped of dignity, nailed to a cross that I had brought here myself Mumbling words out to a silent heart that I know hears me. Thinking that surely our death will meet me soon. But by the clever grace of the devil I continue, finding life that should have diminished at two o' clock. Is Hannukah not supposed to be a celebration? Because while burning in this modest Menorah lifestyle, sacred and devout. I find faith in you and have been shepherded to no redemption, but only the salty pillars of one who trusts in gods created by another God. And upon this realization, I rush to confession, knowing my worship of false idols is not over. As I remember our love as beautiful and mighty, I'm forced also to remember that Lucifer, too, fell when things were at perfection. Try as I might, I must turn my face away, with the hope that something greater truly does await for one who loved paradise, body and soul, with the finality of resurrection.
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Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 5:43 PM UTC
Take Me to Church
I walked into our chapel shoulders back, head high, dignified. No Catholic shame forced my eyes to the mosaic aisle Trodden Over by my Sandaled feet, It was a feast day, praising God with our laughter and shared beneficence. We joined in joyful prayer, receiving each other's sacrament with the reverence of saints but just as I sang the psalms the loudest there came an unholy silence, Believing I was being tempted, I fell to my knees, contemplated your wonder waiting for your return to your prodigal lover; squandering our sacred time, not counting the blessings of our moments of grace. I hung upon my silent cross, weeping into my wine-soaked rag Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani   Descending into Despair, Waiting for an Easter that I swore had been prophesized, Even upon your high holy return, you seemed resurrected, and yet I not saved. I felt like Moses on his day of death beholding the promised land covenanted by souls and yet remaining in this desert thirsty for the wellspring that seemed to be sitting behind your eyes, the water that would quench my forever thirst. Despite the ache in my dried mouth, I'd find the will to stand upon my feet, tired of relying on a charitable heart's sympathies as my means of living. But I found that I was praying for too much from you and I fell upon my knees again, wondering if humility is meant to leave you feeling this broken. And so begins the litany of sacrifices wondering if you are my love made flesh why it is I who is scourged, stripped of dignity, nailed to a cross that I had brought here myself Mumbling words out to a silent heart that I know hears me. Thinking that surely our death will meet me soon. But by the clever grace of the devil I continue, finding life that should have diminished at two o' clock. Is Hannukah not supposed to be a celebration? Because while burning in this modest Menorah lifestyle, sacred and devout. I find faith in you and have been shepherded to no redemption, but only the salty pillars of one who trusts in gods created by another God. And upon this realization, I rush to confession, knowing my worship of false idols is not over. As I remember our love as beautiful and mighty, I'm forced also to remember that Lucifer, too, fell when things were at perfection. Try as I might, I must turn my face away, with the hope that something greater truly does await for one who loved paradise, body and soul, with the finality of resurrection.
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