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Aug 2018 · 249
Ode to the mortals
Underyourradar Aug 2018
I , to whom thee attribute the massacre ,
I speak as your creator ,
Thee cameth to me o traveller ,
As a fickle narrator

For you **** me for your fate ,your condemnation
You attend to me as my foundation crumbles to dust
Your sentiment of zeal was mine own creation
You tainted it with your ambition , mutating it into lust

As the viscious cycle of your adultery reiterates
You indict me of being a silent beholder
As the heartiness and probity of my realm eviscerates
My heeds and warnings are met by your cold shoulder

Your embarkments of upsurge , and the subsequent collapse
Rendering my pattern blurred and unrecognizable to mine own eyes
now you stroll over a mine of your own traps
From my great design springs your eventual demise

Tis' not my trial you stand but shadows of your own that you face
As my realm scorches in your blaze, you drown in the multitude of my waves
For thee to elude eternal damnation
O traveller thee shall fade without a singular trace , dawn anew from disgrace
Hence shall come thy salvation
Jun 2018 · 142
Ode by the damned
Underyourradar Jun 2018
My hands shiver , I'm breaking down in guilt
Amidst the ruins of hope , this heart keeps beating .
O how I've fallen into the voids I've built
Living an ever-lasting lapse before the solitary meeting .

Clouded by those shifting visions the depth was my desire
And the depth an illusion , bound with me in fusion
Lost in my own heartless riddle , I pulled the cursed wire
The bliss of those ignorant smiles was my sweet delusion .

Now I'm standing somewhere I don't see , I don't feel
Actions , thoughts and dreams part ways in their own directions
One spoke at the rise and now the next and I'm a wheel
Trying to search for a way to alter my guilty inactions

And I see it surging higher , smoked away
Trapped inside this cage of steel , that forms this air
Part of me that's still alive , it's just in their way
Now time is just another lie , I'm barely here .

Days are just a camouflage , nights all plotting savory violence
Movements going undetected , the stealth of lost control
It incessant pulls my guts apart and grants that silence
But watching myself lose my role , my soul, now punctured with timeless holes .

And death is not a payoff of some fatal wound , on some ****** ground,
This heart just cherished an unseen thread,
Wondering what changes once I'm not around
In the clutch of shackles of truth , I'll see my red .

— The End —