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#longsuffering
There are those who fight for love with weapons as weak as wood these are they who avoid the fire and would hide if they could there’s lovers, whose shields are hung and are dented with dints defeated by a waging war that they had no faith in The war for love is never won though dressed in iron, steal or tin when you have no hope in love neither should you win The strong have given it their life in armour as soft as cloth with a heart that gave all it had they fought hard and never lost
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Aug 28, 2021
Aug 28, 2021 at 9:50 PM UTC
Make love and war
#D Vanlandingham *I could not help it, but to show you how the moment felt, and in the unfolding of a picture, painted; the deepest of your dreams were unknowingly shown to you And it caught you off guard-  having, to that day..    you never imagined,  it possible. But you did not yet understand that you wear your dream somewhere within the thin-walled interminglings of the word's first primal, urgings..  and its out-into-the-light-of-day, manifestations... (and baby, I feel like crying right now) but I will continue I will continue-- You never signed up for this,  I know.. but you are the one who  chose to allow your war-torn heart, to keep on beating// your flame-scorched lungs,  to keep on breathing.. and now look at this mess, my beautiful-- your beautiful-everything has bled out on to me and  everywhere that I am..  I am wearing you And all I do  is tell you what it feels like  to wear you but in doing so, I made known  your dream and somehow-- within the stretch of Love's ache's, bad luck I have become hated  for making your secret, come true--          the revealing of the dream,  made known ::                                                 the Unfolded you. And now, you are raging because you never imagined, the possibility that there would be someone  out there that would care  enough about you to become able  to see.. (and a man became hated, for just being  me). Yet, even now  to this day,  beloved; I close my eyes, and smile within the depths,   of your deeply loving, hatred.* #
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Dec 11, 2020
Dec 11, 2020 at 8:12 PM UTC
on the other side of the burn
#D Vanlandingham *I could not help it, but to show you how the moment felt, and in the unfolding of a picture, painted; the deepest of your dreams were unknowingly shown to you And it caught you off guard-  having, to that day..    you never imagined,  it possible. But you did not yet understand that you wear your dream somewhere within the thin-walled interminglings of the word's first primal, urgings..  and its out-into-the-light-of-day, manifestations... (and baby, I feel like crying right now) but I will continue I will continue-- You never signed up for this,  I know.. but you are the one who  chose to allow your war-torn heart, to keep on beating// your flame-scorched lungs,  to keep on breathing.. and now look at this mess, my beautiful-- your beautiful-everything has bled out on to me and  everywhere that I am..  I am wearing you And all I do  is tell you what it feels like  to wear you but in doing so, I made known  your dream and somehow-- within the stretch of Love's ache's, bad luck I have become hated  for making your secret, come true--          the revealing of the dream,  made known ::                                                 the Unfolded you. And now, you are raging because you never imagined, the possibility that there would be someone  out there that would care  enough about you to become able  to see.. (and a man became hated, for just being  me). Yet, even now  to this day,  beloved; I close my eyes, and smile within the depths,   of your deeply loving, hatred.* #
Continue reading...
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# *Your finest of  dreams became known.. And in those precious hours you soared,  as I soared until your own,   horrendously skewed, self-view slaughtered the ever-living ****  out of it all.. And, oh my sweet little desert-wanderer- you have been mad at me ever since. I did not create your view, someone else did-- so horribly.. so very unfairly      long before we ever met I came to help  restore  in you that which was stolen from you so very long ago.    But you hauled off  and kicked    me in the ****    as soon as your ever-wearing    internal-messaging system  kicked in And down I went, my beautiful-- a total ******* in your eyes with no way left to bring you  the gold your better-everything, still hungers for. **** me, my beauty.. baby stick the knife in     deep. And in a moment of remorse your tear-stained rusted fortress-gate will swing wide open.. and with my last dying breath, I will hand it over to you anyways--          The gold your war-torn heart          had always hoped for          but never thought it deserved.*    You are Ishmael, my beautiful--    a blood-borne carrier    of the Living Word #
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Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 5:57 PM UTC
ishmael
Carve a little more out of my heart I'm not yet completely empty of love...
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Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 8:43 PM UTC
Longsuffering
*Jesus never complained Should we?*
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
Quietism