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Thead Jan 7
Ah
Feelings of being free
  Souls born through the curse of misery

Born to shake away that feeling
  Take back the time it's been stealing

Learn, live in peace and prosperity
Thead Jan 7
What is white? and what is black?
Is the white God, and death the Devil?

Or is white your life and Black the enemy - whatever form you will, depression, illness, always shadowing the step of light.

An almost infinite random probability of numbers in the beginning. All to be determined by your own mind.  
Its history & creation still a mystery.

The king may be you, for that is the game. And think! What is the antithesis of you, for that is the black king you must seek to check. Every game is different.

The queen your counterpart. Whether it be a woman or man, or maybe even a god? Aggressively passionately destroying your enemy.
The black queen well - heaven hath no fury like a woman scorned.
The most powerful, helpful champion.

The knights may be your friends, the only piece that can jump over the enemy deep into the lines of onslaught.
Directed perfectly and they will give you the upper hand.

The rooks may be siblings, or family friends. Linear to the point. Influential when no other pieces exist, have seen the entire game and finally help you win it.
Foundations of the 4 corners of the board.

Mum and Dad, the bishops, the only ones that are able to slide in between the cracks of all the pieces, if you enable them to.

And the pawns.
Ah the pawns.
Only the true masters of the game know how to use them.

Only you can determine the battle between light and dark, whatever that may be.

Only you.
Why is this on my mind trying to sleep, I'm not even good at chess
Thead Jan 5
Joy
Oh, the bees have always had it best
Cocooned in layered sweetness,
petal to petal amongst the air
and happy to just be...
a bee.
Thead Jan 5
God
A choice to be better
#thatsalliteverwas
Thead Dec 2019
Those grey doors, how when washed away with colour they appeal to the insane.
A dull nothingness, that helps bind the soul to nothing, another ant in the hill of dirt.

Those grey doors, where I found out that you can be reduced to nothing, back to the purity of an animal.

Kicking and screaming, bound and chained testing which pills work with what needles to bring me down.
While he cries out to a merciless God.
And he watches laughing through those grey doors.

Of course to the Gods pity is the lowest of emotions. A dreadful sin, to want to be pitied.
While they test and write notes on their clipboards on Gods image.
a nobody.
a no one.  
A soulless creature to be beat down, for his own good.
and left to soil himself in a comfy hospital stretcher bed.

Of course it was necessary, but I wonder what it would be like to go back through those grey doors.
or the black door which offers so much promise.
Thead Dec 2019
And the world brings me so much pain.
That I bring myself alone at the screen, so nobody else will hear my screams.
the silent screams forever in my mind of what I could be.
over and over,
and over once more
before I drop into a mix of hypnotic *******.

Only then do I smile
after waves of numbness.
Thead Dec 2019
To think my words have meaning
is more pretentious than the word itself.

To think of all my dreaming,
coming true would be a living hell.

To think of all my scheming,
will make me happy, great and true.

To think of all my thinking,
makes me feel the ******* blues.
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