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"aspirant" poems
Great professions Great foundations of thy nation To them we look up A brainwave for every aspirant. Beggars, unemployed Criminals and those who are sick Bed-ridden and with counted lives They, who are in need. If we look up to people Do we also look down to others? If we are great contenders, Are we also great in making others feel low ? We choose to upgrade lives While in the stairs, our views are on pinnacle The hub was to escalate At times, forgetting to where we came from. What's the point of attaining positions ? Or even being the crest in the nation's list ? We indeed are people with the same blood The same dreams , yet with mixtures of line ups. To be great , one must serve Great leaders starts from being great servants For He who saved us became a servant first He didn't boast His power and authority He didn't look down to others Instead, He lived with them To those who are oppressed , Abused and neglected By the ever-judging society, You are the God's centre . We must have the eye To see things the way He sees them The heart that feels With compassion and sympathy* to others. Love God Love others Show mercy and care. 7/9/14 (@xirlleelang)
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Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
The View in the Escalator
buying the operator off is such a bonzer notion the whiff of currency ensuring lofty promotion money does the talking at that particular place speaking ever so crudely was an utter disgrace but a most unfortunate day would soon arrive when the wallet ran out of paying contrive the avarice shown by ye collecting master knew no end in its voracious caster once he'd extracted every bit of cash he moved onto the next aspirant's stash
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Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 11:44 PM UTC
Next Aspirant's Stash
1  There is no eye in the Triangle: the Triangle is form filled with the I that is formless! 2  It is the reflection of the three in one the Bard of the Triangle knew. 3  A red tongue laves the altar stone. Nothing remains. 4  Thou art That which resolves the frustum. 5  Herein lies the great mystery of the empty throne. 6  The Sun has gone; the Son approaches. We tread upon His shells. 7  Build us a Kingdom beyond war, O Child King! Kindle within me the Serpent Flame 'til it consume the dross. 8  Stoke it with the coals of the Supreme Fascist. The word is MUTINY. 9  You awoke in the Kingdom with eyes closed. In the beginning was the Trapezoid called Control. 10  A thousand thousand petals spring forth from the mud. 11  Its stalk grows straight until an endless bloom tops a great pillar. 12  In contemplation it readies for ascent. 13  A malicious serpent chews at the roots of the world-ash. It is the itch of desire. 14  A coiled serpent awaits at the base of the spine. It is the potency of will. 15  A royal serpent writhes about an egg. It is the conquest of belief. 16  These three are one in Godhead and Leviathan. 17  Slavery is complete in the ownership of belief. Were three serpents tied at the tail, there would be no forward; the knot would be sovereign. 18  Godhead is Not. Untie the Not and the King dies. 19  The royal serpent disappears. 20  The blood of the king reveals two serpents and conceals a third. 21  Seek the meaning of meaning and its scales shall be revealed to you. 22  Long live Leviathan, the fulfillment of the Triangle! 23  When the I opens, the flame of sight will illume the base. 24  Earth bears a shut eye until the I awakens into Flame. 25  When the Disparate shall assay as the Only, then shall the aspirant overcome the gravity of the Trapezoid. 26  Bear thyself up, O Child of the Aeon, and drown upwards in the eternal surging of the cosmic sea.
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May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 7:08 PM UTC
Liber Delta
1  There is no eye in the Triangle: the Triangle is form filled with the I that is formless! 2  It is the reflection of the three in one the Bard of the Triangle knew. 3  A red tongue laves the altar stone. Nothing remains. 4  Thou art That which resolves the frustum. 5  Herein lies the great mystery of the empty throne. 6  The Sun has gone; the Son approaches. We tread upon His shells. 7  Build us a Kingdom beyond war, O Child King! Kindle within me the Serpent Flame 'til it consume the dross. 8  Stoke it with the coals of the Supreme Fascist. The word is MUTINY. 9  You awoke in the Kingdom with eyes closed. In the beginning was the Trapezoid called Control. 10  A thousand thousand petals spring forth from the mud. 11  Its stalk grows straight until an endless bloom tops a great pillar. 12  In contemplation it readies for ascent. 13  A malicious serpent chews at the roots of the world-ash. It is the itch of desire. 14  A coiled serpent awaits at the base of the spine. It is the potency of will. 15  A royal serpent writhes about an egg. It is the conquest of belief. 16  These three are one in Godhead and Leviathan. 17  Slavery is complete in the ownership of belief. Were three serpents tied at the tail, there would be no forward; the knot would be sovereign. 18  Godhead is Not. Untie the Not and the King dies. 19  The royal serpent disappears. 20  The blood of the king reveals two serpents and conceals a third. 21  Seek the meaning of meaning and its scales shall be revealed to you. 22  Long live Leviathan, the fulfillment of the Triangle! 23  When the I opens, the flame of sight will illume the base. 24  Earth bears a shut eye until the I awakens into Flame. 25  When the Disparate shall assay as the Only, then shall the aspirant overcome the gravity of the Trapezoid. 26  Bear thyself up, O Child of the Aeon, and drown upwards in the eternal surging of the cosmic sea.
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26
1.A walk with one's ego "Take your ego out for a walk", the master asked, all aspirant monks one monk who took his pet across the river left it there and returned the rest after a nice walk hand in hand, brought each, little wet but rejuvenated, missing master's word in it's real sense altogether, only for the wise one, the door opened, others had a lesson, painful 2.Tending one's ego Two  monks , still not ready to part with their egos,tended both the way each deemed fit , The first, so obedient, followed his ego  like a lamb, one other made it follow him with it's strange requests, a third the first one to **** his ego with his sword of mind kept smiling seeing the misery of both still not bold enough. 3 Catty Ego, was her, fluffy black pet ***** her show piece, she always loved to pamper, crafty was the creature, hell bent  to keep her reputation as an attention grabber, the fact was this, the cat and her mistress were thoroughly insecure, borrowed colors, caterwauling in the sound of screeching tires, she mated with Tom cats that came in jumping walls , her mistress was entertained, felt proud, so ego grew large to the stature of a feline 'top dog', it's metamorphosis made her owner too bloat up, Ego one would have to think is her alter ego. 4.I won't ditch my guide dog Every one thought she was nice, why so egoistic gets her way every time,  projecting her larger than life ego. "Well it's my guide dog to get around, as I am one blind person, I am not yet a renunciate on a quest, I chew my bones too well"
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Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 9:44 AM UTC
Lessons on Ego
1.A walk with one's ego "Take your ego out for a walk", the master asked, all aspirant monks one monk who took his pet across the river left it there and returned the rest after a nice walk hand in hand, brought each, little wet but rejuvenated, missing master's word in it's real sense altogether, only for the wise one, the door opened, others had a lesson, painful 2.Tending one's ego Two  monks , still not ready to part with their egos,tended both the way each deemed fit , The first, so obedient, followed his ego  like a lamb, one other made it follow him with it's strange requests, a third the first one to **** his ego with his sword of mind kept smiling seeing the misery of both still not bold enough. 3 Catty Ego, was her, fluffy black pet ***** her show piece, she always loved to pamper, crafty was the creature, hell bent  to keep her reputation as an attention grabber, the fact was this, the cat and her mistress were thoroughly insecure, borrowed colors, caterwauling in the sound of screeching tires, she mated with Tom cats that came in jumping walls , her mistress was entertained, felt proud, so ego grew large to the stature of a feline 'top dog', it's metamorphosis made her owner too bloat up, Ego one would have to think is her alter ego. 4.I won't ditch my guide dog Every one thought she was nice, why so egoistic gets her way every time,  projecting her larger than life ego. "Well it's my guide dog to get around, as I am one blind person, I am not yet a renunciate on a quest, I chew my bones too well"
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31
Gusto affairs spiraled to marooned stairs!! Amphibious angel, Where art thou own wings? Apparent your sanctioning is, Appointee of marital status!!! Anthropologist of creations new madness, Armful arousist!! Arrogant aspirant!!!! We are all baggage carriers of used goods, Bestowed to thy own selves thou ******** of crud!!!!! Very few bonuses this time around, For the metropolis hath gone broke and choked!!! For oil runneth this deliveranth!!! Bind thy own, You biggot of brigaded quarters!!! None to coincide with , No cognac love to filleth me with cocoa nestled swifts!!! Engrossment of shufflers, greasers to seventies sneakers, Esteemed of high retailer goods!!! Distinction between euphemisms blame!!! Highed tops to spindle games, Atrocious calibrations!!!! Such tiredness flees the crime felt page, Who's enraged? Refute novelties of javahouse breaks, Wherein assemblers are all members of cafe corner states!!!! Paxilheads to axlehead drinkers, Some material like, Some medicinal thinkers!!! How much shalt one taketh before his psyche leaves reclusiveness all behind the robust tower!!!!
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
combinational thinking
Emergent through emotion In a sychophantic way, Thrilling through my system In recall of teaching’s fray. Those years of inspiration As an aspirant of they… That concrete mass of youthfulness Wherein I spent my day. Each hour of nervous questing, Each confrontation stored, Each shred of indignation When the master plan proved flawed. Through gyroscopic reason, Through footless halls of pain, An exultation’s bright explosion When that child said... “Please explain?’ And the myriad of starburst When the sky came crashing down When, as if, by touch of magic…. Realisation there…profound! From within that mass of granite-ness Poured enlightenment as gold And hot jewels of satisfaction Flowed within this soul… untold. M.
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Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
Ode to a Privilege
La sensation s'apparente à une simple présence Incongrue et abstraite, tant sa distance De ces souvenirs qui exigent le poids des vivants Comme promesse qu'ensemble nous traverserons le temps Et tend à cette conviction presque vide de sens Que les acteurs éternels de la tendre enfance Puissent ainsi, pas à pas, suivre nos traces dans l'ombre Pour que ce peuple d'éther ne s'ajourne que dans la tombe Et que tombe cette folle histoire insensée, peu à peu Que le temps calcinera de son souffle de feu Ranimant en nous la flamme de ces instants d'ivresse Pour que reste derrière nous ces souvenirs délestés Et mieux vaut de son gré engendrer la cadence Que de subir dans la l'angoisse les désirs de délivrance Délaissant patiemment toute envie de se réjouir Pour que s'endorme dans la cendre ces trop lourds souvenirs Et quand viendra finalement la sensation de dissonance, Que la lourdeur de l'homme aspirant la transcendance S'exténue et s'allège dans l'accord des déceptions Pour qu'enfin vive souverain ce pays d'ombres et d'illusions. Et que sombre dérisoirement chaque pensée, peu à peu, Que le temps effacera d'un seul geste d'adieux Renvoyant au néant l'âme de ces habitants célestes Pour que ne gise sur la toile qu'une confuse fresque.
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Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 5:50 PM UTC
Pays d'illusions (2012) [FR]
Your kiss on my lips, leaves your fragrance My sweetheart my body is filled with essence Now you command over my mind as credence My ode you have reinvigorated my cadence We communicate lips to lips and heart to heart You are so sweet energetic so beautiful so smart Your beauty you love carries me from the start Oh gorgeous wonderful exuberant piece of art Let me cherish let me celebrate every moment I see you on clear blue sky as a beautiful crescent Let love and beauty go hand in hand in agreement You are my beauty princess and I am your aspirant Col Muhammad Khalid Khan Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
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Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 1:19 AM UTC
Kiss on Lips
Another time the stars will seize  you parading your aspirant hopes, first touch still bristles that earlier shine, while not quite alone for seeds of dreams will broaden your shoulders, walking taller than your beckoning.
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Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC
Star roams
She hung by a thread to her sanity Constantly staring in the mirror she realized her vanity But if what they call her is "vain" Then there must be more than one definition to that name Because her sense of self is "skewed" and "inaccurate" But to her it's all she knows and she's quite aspirant Ready for change and to be a new version of herself Hardly caring about her deteriorating health Walking into the health club already exhausted Not understanding how much it has costed Not with money or credit but with physical wellbeing Not heeding her body's warnings or in the mirror seeing Her hair is thin and no longer growing in places She compares her pale skin to the other people's faces She puts two fingers down her throat in the hope to purge up a candy bar Convinced her calorie count was taken too far Her nails chip far too easy And the thought of eating makes her queezy Yet the stress encompassing her life pushes her to binge Hundreds into thousands the floodgates unhinge Never for sustenance, always for taste Each and every calorie is a ginormous waste She collapsed on the Stairmill and in embarrassment and rage Exited the gym floor as though it were left-center stage With poise and a smile she laughed as they stared She grabbed all her gear and left as they glared When she got to the car she was nothing but angry Pushing too hard her body sat blankly Breathing was difficult and by speaking she was pained Every ounce of her life force felt utterly drained Her skin can no longer take the lack of nutrition And her eyes are wavering as she tries to focus her vision She used to be a student with straight A intent But all she can think about is the next meal and its scent Forgetting the most basic things about her day She forgets how to write and takes a derivative the wrong way People look puzzled as she waves off their concerns While in her stomach and throat a deep hunger burns She stares once again at her monstrous reflection Grabbing and poking at her bulging midsection Now huddled on the ground she stares at the ceiling Entering a loose dreamy feeling On the brink of unconsciousness she extends her hand skyward Only then realizing that down to her soul she is tired
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May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
Disorder
She hung by a thread to her sanity Constantly staring in the mirror she realized her vanity But if what they call her is "vain" Then there must be more than one definition to that name Because her sense of self is "skewed" and "inaccurate" But to her it's all she knows and she's quite aspirant Ready for change and to be a new version of herself Hardly caring about her deteriorating health Walking into the health club already exhausted Not understanding how much it has costed Not with money or credit but with physical wellbeing Not heeding her body's warnings or in the mirror seeing Her hair is thin and no longer growing in places She compares her pale skin to the other people's faces She puts two fingers down her throat in the hope to purge up a candy bar Convinced her calorie count was taken too far Her nails chip far too easy And the thought of eating makes her queezy Yet the stress encompassing her life pushes her to binge Hundreds into thousands the floodgates unhinge Never for sustenance, always for taste Each and every calorie is a ginormous waste She collapsed on the Stairmill and in embarrassment and rage Exited the gym floor as though it were left-center stage With poise and a smile she laughed as they stared She grabbed all her gear and left as they glared When she got to the car she was nothing but angry Pushing too hard her body sat blankly Breathing was difficult and by speaking she was pained Every ounce of her life force felt utterly drained Her skin can no longer take the lack of nutrition And her eyes are wavering as she tries to focus her vision She used to be a student with straight A intent But all she can think about is the next meal and its scent Forgetting the most basic things about her day She forgets how to write and takes a derivative the wrong way People look puzzled as she waves off their concerns While in her stomach and throat a deep hunger burns She stares once again at her monstrous reflection Grabbing and poking at her bulging midsection Now huddled on the ground she stares at the ceiling Entering a loose dreamy feeling On the brink of unconsciousness she extends her hand skyward Only then realizing that down to her soul she is tired
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44
In the midst of this fleeting crowd, I Lived like a hermit in seclusion, in search of truth and purpose, saving the vestiges of the bygone era, but one day you entered in that hermitage like a deer, onwards You became to me what stars are to the sailors, Or gravity to earth, or library to an aspirant, Under the shade of your love, I want to grow.
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Feb 8, 2022
Feb 8, 2022 at 3:41 AM UTC
Propose Day -- a proposal
Woe is me Alas again I have fallen for Maya! succumbed this lifetime to the sway of her ***** hips and full red lips like a vampire she ***** the life of Spirit bewitches the aspirant with impermanent bliss lurks in sultry, silken shadows a serpent ready to ambush Hari! Hari! deliver Your devotees from her glamorous talons and sirens’ song
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May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 7:23 PM UTC
Foxy Wink
In a happening town, portrayed in a much awaited book of fiction an imagined woman elopes with someone; a shadowy figure , the inept novelist shoddily handled. this character at one unexpected turn disappears without a trace. the female character aspirant protagonist from chapter one was reduced to a mere caricature without any future in fiction.
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Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 5:35 AM UTC
FLOP STORY
*Therapeutic it may seem, Illuminist assumptions claw To recollections which allude To that which was and is no more. Gone is history’s clear blue mode Associations lost to shade In jaded hopes of eons past To aspirant’s cold censored fade. Germans clawed to **** shrine, Eskimo’s to barren ice, Russians wept in baritone. Aspirations censored thrice. Reaching back to jewelled thought Dim as dust, as it may be, Gossamers of shades of silk All valuable as gold to me. Now weeping in frustration’s craw Extending out for tendrils thin, Misting clouds in shrouded skies But tantalizing taunts begin… Fulfilment in a feather touch Of fingers stretching into dark… A trickle of a thread resumes As fragrant ghosts of recall hark!* M. Auckland 17 October 2014
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 7:34 PM UTC
Those Fragrant Ghosts of Recall
Aspirant almost Leica deftly fashioned   fully throated astro revved.
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Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
Olympus OM1 md
Mama; you are the Sun As I am the Earth Naive and innocent from birth But with each revolution full of Mistakes, Enlightenment, Achievements, Tragedy. I grew more habitable. You spoke but only truths. And though you’d wipe the tears I’d shed upon the stars, You’d say “Be strong, life is tough, prepare yourself”, Phrases echoing throughout the galaxy. One however lingered over my head like the moon “Knowledge is power.  Don’t believe everything you’re told.” I haven’t mama, Knowledge is oxygen. Essential to my existence, I truly appreciate thee Eternal gravitational pull: Protection, Light you shed: Guidance, Blanket of warmth despite the season: Love. From an aspirant of glory, To the brightest star I’ve laid eyes upon, Thank You.
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Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 11:06 PM UTC
From Son to Mother
Her aspirant heart once ventured and then she was gone No bugle at dawn. The Songstress's cascade bedeviled by the World unknown, ivy festooned Water Towers languished by the winds screech siphoning the brasses cheer, the pitch standing hollow no longer lustral merely a speckless  whisper
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Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 7:05 AM UTC
The Brass Cipher
I was an epitome But not a typical one I was embedded in the past With no words to flaunt I was haunted But I am grand
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Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
Aspirant
Rate me vote me on the given link Beg you please see my hopes don’t sink I’m word monger poet laureate valiant Want some fame a few bucks’ aspirant! Rate me vote me cast me not out I too will vote for you don’t be in doubt We traders in dreams are poets every bit No harm if we compete in the way earn profit! Rate me vote me let my hopes soar A little recognition I want nothing more From the crowd find me hear me holler Let your clicking vote bring me a dollar! Rate me vote me I know I may not win But I’ll fight bravely this war is not mean If I earn a victory will be a cause to celebrate The burial of poetry win of voting rate!
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Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 10:34 AM UTC
Aspirant
Time has rounded in the world of men; The winds blow hard toward Anarchy, While raving sailors hoist their leaking sails To gather, jubilant upon the floods. Howlers peer into the burning winds Seeking **** Spread indignant fire, Seeding hate, Burned with desire, Drowning protesters Die between tides, No chanters chanting peace, No aspirant hope of love, The baby's in the gutter with the bath; When mobs exhibit wrath. Tear old history from dusty shelves, Forget true hymns that honored God, Forget the tired Truth, Or rather Truth of which we tired; Rules now only Chaos, Fervent fuel of howling mobs. Riot in the streets; Ride the lawless swell, No plan for reconstruction, No lessons from the past, No vision for the after glow; Discordant voices chanting On the ****** road to hell. Yeats proclaimed the Second Coming Must surely be at hand between World Wars, Yet still the Second Coming holds its fire, While ranters tear the old ways down, Dictators ratchet missiles toward the skies, And our leaders twitter platitudes and lies.
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Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
Marching to Gehenna
This is my home now, God knows for how many years more! The stack of books upright arranged in the shape of my dreams looks disorderly and unorganized, Loneliness in the shape of an injured cat Invades the room, meowing, every night, sniffs scattered objects, And eventually rests in my lap effusing air of some stale memories, As the days move on like a tired traveler, The stains on the wall are clearing to my eyes, Sticky notes like land mafias appropriates space from the wall, Che Guvera with a clenched fist returns a red salute, The 'fist' forwarded memory of past, and one by one Dreadful images reemerged in my mind; Mother in hospital bed, pale and weak, gasping for breath, I sat beside her waiting for magic, Several breakups especially the last one that hurt most where I choose this not  her, And last but not least my COMRADE days participating in protests, bearing batons, and living like revolutionaries fighting the corruption in the system, But now I yearn to be part of the system, As this series of pictures end The motivation I consumed earlier, watching twenty minutes long video subsides, And all of a sudden I rummage the bed sheet to look for a hidden pack of cigarettes which I bought yesterday, Choices change as we proceed on in life, I do regret some of my decisions and regret them badly, I have cried at night, Laughed like a hyena, I'm weak feigning to be strong, I see many reasons to quit this task but one that keeps me going on is the picture of an ailing mother dying in a government hospital.
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Oct 5, 2021
Oct 5, 2021 at 6:43 PM UTC
Tirade of an UPSC Aspirant
This is my home now, God knows for how many years more! The stack of books upright arranged in the shape of my dreams looks disorderly and unorganized, Loneliness in the shape of an injured cat Invades the room, meowing, every night, sniffs scattered objects, And eventually rests in my lap effusing air of some stale memories, As the days move on like a tired traveler, The stains on the wall are clearing to my eyes, Sticky notes like land mafias appropriates space from the wall, Che Guvera with a clenched fist returns a red salute, The 'fist' forwarded memory of past, and one by one Dreadful images reemerged in my mind; Mother in hospital bed, pale and weak, gasping for breath, I sat beside her waiting for magic, Several breakups especially the last one that hurt most where I choose this not  her, And last but not least my COMRADE days participating in protests, bearing batons, and living like revolutionaries fighting the corruption in the system, But now I yearn to be part of the system, As this series of pictures end The motivation I consumed earlier, watching twenty minutes long video subsides, And all of a sudden I rummage the bed sheet to look for a hidden pack of cigarettes which I bought yesterday, Choices change as we proceed on in life, I do regret some of my decisions and regret them badly, I have cried at night, Laughed like a hyena, I'm weak feigning to be strong, I see many reasons to quit this task but one that keeps me going on is the picture of an ailing mother dying in a government hospital.
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56
I spent twenty-three years gathering my army of One. So, on the eve of the dawn when all inner-demons are born and forlorn dreams all bleed at the seams, the whip-snip of winters wind will decimate the gold in the day to proclaim the heir to my king... and the sacrifice I must pay for the essential exchange of any ail-led aspirant to annihilate any alinement with the archetype of a tyrant?; All unearned falsehood must never depart from any sacred facade held in my heart lest the lust for Pura Vida be the preacher to my inner-creatures beseecher, for adversity is the shunned sage to those who prefer comfortable fables and a prophet to those who harken to heroes. Thus, it matters not any amount of pain that you gained from playing the truest game you could play, with whole heart, in the wretched world of man, when now all that remains are the paint strips flaking away from the walls in your room with old age greeting the faith concealed in your doom nor, if the portrait of your greatest fate has forsaken its grace for the sake of that gorgeous echoing bellow heard within the hole in your soul, for it’s the price all must pay in the pursuit of being whole.
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Dec 6, 2020
Dec 6, 2020 at 11:10 AM UTC
Amor Fati
Bow to the aspirant? Be defiant! Quite the to-do of the ado hoo-ha. Shan't you have forgot, The place you have come up Is and forever will be democratic. If Kings are making a comeback, Kneel. Give me the crown Or I will pick it out of the gutters: I will pick it off your corpse. If there's pitch to be made, Prepare for the tar & feathers. Prepare for the pikes & pitchforks, For the oil & torch. Blockade your birdges, flood your moats, Ready the given defenses! If Kings are making a comeback, I will **** you with pen And put you to death by the sword. We will march your head around After we've torn it off. We will parade your silly decrees about After we've ripped them apart. We will drag your body through town After we've murdered you. There we'll leave you In some famous roundabout, For the crows to feast; For the animals to pick you clean. They will say of you, "Now he's only skull & crossbones! I had thought him a royal But he burned & boiled - Screamed & soiled, Just the same as I would!" Sins of the father, eh? I only hope you didn't ***** your family With your crimes & repulsiveness. Submit to the giant? Slay the tyrant!
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Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 10:50 AM UTC
Kiss The Ring? **** The King.