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"cravens" poems
Sickly might, cravens and craving demon drooling bite. That fleshly flaunt of fool and privilege, he burned to smoldering. Lapped his blood from crowned jewel and corroded golden spires. The lost cadaver, pride driven manicured demon of self driven greed and godly hunger. Such as fiendish that ****** the sulfured serpent, tis a sickened beast in dread black suit, raffled in silken red tie it's but the psychopath's blood smeared human hide. Crave the flesh, tear and splatter the soul from within, fiends of fantastically practiced to perfect parallel smiles. They'll slip your soul from the bars of your throat, reap every inch of the body's hold. Steal friendships to lips, lives to hips, slurp the killing, seize the blind weeping cold. You've got nothing not to be swept and stole. Soulless has a studded luster, but the ****** socio bleeds liquid sins, bears fangs plastic wrapped in blades, human game is the psychopath's wet dream.
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Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:27 AM UTC
Psychopath Devine
How can my eyes hunger for tormentors bodies where in my soul can I find desires for sadists Eves threw on fitted coats of Marquis de Sade borrowed his manuals and added even more pages pierced the heart of a Dove defending his nest with lethal pins And in joyous indignities with devilment aplomp they reclined and crackled in wanton doltishness He thinks of and desires us and wants to make amor with us How can a heart marinated in love truely sincere a soul ready to die rather than any harm to Eves Be mother or sister or perchance even a stranger alas in utter ********** and grotesque situation dire Come undone with healthy pristine heart ripped to pieces hung drawn and quartered and sliced in tiny morsels Like fish baits for mice and minnows or hens clucking All at the hands of Sirens who worshipped in Satan's cravens How can a soul with only the spark of Salvation aglow where it once housed his heart and enduring humanity With brimful joy and devotions in fitting measures true as all Eves where to him nowt but sisters and earth angels Now his burning blood runs cold like rivelets in the Arctic their words ring hollow and smiles shows rapiers of snakes Nothing stirs desires for all Eves now seem and look like wicked corpses Delilahs' wrecking vengeance on Samsons in wickedness supreme [email protected] rights reserved
0
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 4:31 AM UTC
I Don't See You That Way Anymore.......
green eyes how come that warm gently rides to springs of heaven from frosty blue ice then turns black ravens to brightest white doves and the hopeless cravens to bravest heroes lashes: turkish bows glances like arrows runnin' baby roes make you chase for a while what a perky look cheerful naughty snook but flowing jungle brook sings her lullaby a shiny pinky smile carries an angel tribe withinside of the nook thus devil got riled was expelled and allied with the nebbish adam -rosy pink lips wiled and might clothe the seven seas by the holly tide
0
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 12:51 PM UTC
altough the green is a cool color
Do not fear the dark that dominates Your horizons Instead respect the light that highlights Your reasons For in the season of man doth war Rule over the minds of the blind Whilst hope doth shine in the eyes Of the free to see but not to be As the slaves they are to the power Cast upon them by thy contrived To pull yonder veil in concealment Against truths stronger than thous Might makes right imperative Strown across the globe to corrupt Thine enemy to forever kneel Afore the folly of mans aversion Whereas peace is but a demon at night And death is but an angel of light We are lost only so far as we can see Do not let the cravens of power Bury ye
0
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 9:41 AM UTC
The Cravens Blindfold
oleander pale in love with the scarlet ardent against the gale empty walls chipping their paint arms of war had settled stains tinderbox broken for a half-assed light baneful prayers and their volume's height artlessly, the breathings of a craven deep in night.
0
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
cravens writing
The earth might know whether the fire Beneath the hillock as a pyre Was there and kept a-smouldering Whatever burnt it with fiery sting. From morning did he slowly, oh! Acute and heavy stones below Clasp with his own holy wrath, A power ne one had ne now hath. Though he’s been slumb’ring innocently Since hundred years ago, sharply, As I had heard from my ancestors, Got furious by some evil stars. It was a foggy day of autumn, None could be seen at the bottom, Nor high above a bird to fly, Nor that hill, then calm and high. When the pale sun reached the top, Of earthly dome of clouds did rob His grandeur boldly, the rain began To curse the man with wicked plan. Till then no one conjectured what God had stored for their hapless lot, But dreamt bygone months when they Were carefree as a child and gay. Once the sun was lost in the west, Some eerie sounds from that hill-crest Began to frighten children, and their Unhappy parents uttered a prayer. One wondered if it was a rumbling Of the clouds, about to be tumbling Once again as heavier rain Upon grey mountains and verdant plain. Another heard the rustling leaves, As summer’s cool wind gently heaves. But no such things were their outside, Then must’ve in high note an infant cried. That voice, as night seemed deep and darker, Bit by bit, from grave to graver Became, and did from the hill emerge. All cravens shrieked, they shrieked, “O dirge!” All at once in mightiest blast, Liquid fire did up the crust Gush out, flash out from the earth, As if he gathered an endless mirth. Then down that splendent stone did flow With million captive crumbles, lo! The brooklet virile made its way Through forsaken woods and clay. Hearth! A hearth of our whole world That dormant knoll was like; he hurled The hallowed fire, which God alone Could gift mankind, with new adorn. What rapture did the hill derive Unburd’ning himself of newer life! And what unwavering faith had he In earth on whose lap his child would be!
0
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 3:20 AM UTC
The Eruption
The earth might know whether the fire Beneath the hillock as a pyre Was there and kept a-smouldering Whatever burnt it with fiery sting. From morning did he slowly, oh! Acute and heavy stones below Clasp with his own holy wrath, A power ne one had ne now hath. Though he’s been slumb’ring innocently Since hundred years ago, sharply, As I had heard from my ancestors, Got furious by some evil stars. It was a foggy day of autumn, None could be seen at the bottom, Nor high above a bird to fly, Nor that hill, then calm and high. When the pale sun reached the top, Of earthly dome of clouds did rob His grandeur boldly, the rain began To curse the man with wicked plan. Till then no one conjectured what God had stored for their hapless lot, But dreamt bygone months when they Were carefree as a child and gay. Once the sun was lost in the west, Some eerie sounds from that hill-crest Began to frighten children, and their Unhappy parents uttered a prayer. One wondered if it was a rumbling Of the clouds, about to be tumbling Once again as heavier rain Upon grey mountains and verdant plain. Another heard the rustling leaves, As summer’s cool wind gently heaves. But no such things were their outside, Then must’ve in high note an infant cried. That voice, as night seemed deep and darker, Bit by bit, from grave to graver Became, and did from the hill emerge. All cravens shrieked, they shrieked, “O dirge!” All at once in mightiest blast, Liquid fire did up the crust Gush out, flash out from the earth, As if he gathered an endless mirth. Then down that splendent stone did flow With million captive crumbles, lo! The brooklet virile made its way Through forsaken woods and clay. Hearth! A hearth of our whole world That dormant knoll was like; he hurled The hallowed fire, which God alone Could gift mankind, with new adorn. What rapture did the hill derive Unburd’ning himself of newer life! And what unwavering faith had he In earth on whose lap his child would be!
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56
As I stepped closer, A scroll I saw, in secret it perched. Holding the ones dearest to her heart, Not a word of me when I searched. What's left of me was a sheer despair. Love's a great burden to bear. It felt so close, yet so far. Blend me to her heart, I wished to a shooting star. I wish I could tell her, How fierce was she. Faught all her fears bravely, When the bravest of the braves flee. I wished I could let her know, In the darkest and the lonely nights, I'll be the light that glow. In the burning sun or the heavy rain, I'll be a shade little low. You tell me that she should know, Know it all about this feeling. A love kept hidden deep down under, Burgeoning day and night beyond wonder. Do these words make love more truer ? Or do they hold more worth ? Than the moments I spent making you smile, Or feel loved. Do you feel it girth? Moments akin to swifting clouds, Rushing to horizon yet a boon. The moments I felt my beating heart, From diving sun to the diving moon. The ones spent in utter longing, Craving for your smiles. To keep those tears from dripping down, I ran a thousand miles. Yet none will ever be cared, The moments, without a word I shared. Silence of the sun never tell it all, When all you wait for mere words to fall. How little words can say it all ? For how long will they stay ? Will they make you feel the same ? The way I did everyday. You tell me that she should know, Should know of this feeling, about it all. Is this how we mend broken hearts ? Urging them to fly or to fall. Everytime she hear about love, I see a despair, I see her frown. You tell me to let her dive again, When she's still afraid to drown. A coward you say I am, And never shall I be worth for her. For simple words I couldn't utter, Is it too easy to defer ? Since when the cowards turned brave ? Since when the Ravens turned to dove ? Bearing an unbearable suffering, Since when cravens begin to love ? She tell me I deserve, Not her but the most beautiful of them all. No matter how far you try to toss, Back to you I'll crawl. Now rarely she talk, rarely she care, Maybe trying to draw a line. Perhaps while fixing her heart, I broke mine. Now I'll stay quiet for a while, For I'm not her hearts keeper. For far too long it has been buried, And now my love, I'll bury it deeper.
0
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 7:10 AM UTC
Bury It Deeper
As I stepped closer, A scroll I saw, in secret it perched. Holding the ones dearest to her heart, Not a word of me when I searched. What's left of me was a sheer despair. Love's a great burden to bear. It felt so close, yet so far. Blend me to her heart, I wished to a shooting star. I wish I could tell her, How fierce was she. Faught all her fears bravely, When the bravest of the braves flee. I wished I could let her know, In the darkest and the lonely nights, I'll be the light that glow. In the burning sun or the heavy rain, I'll be a shade little low. You tell me that she should know, Know it all about this feeling. A love kept hidden deep down under, Burgeoning day and night beyond wonder. Do these words make love more truer ? Or do they hold more worth ? Than the moments I spent making you smile, Or feel loved. Do you feel it girth? Moments akin to swifting clouds, Rushing to horizon yet a boon. The moments I felt my beating heart, From diving sun to the diving moon. The ones spent in utter longing, Craving for your smiles. To keep those tears from dripping down, I ran a thousand miles. Yet none will ever be cared, The moments, without a word I shared. Silence of the sun never tell it all, When all you wait for mere words to fall. How little words can say it all ? For how long will they stay ? Will they make you feel the same ? The way I did everyday. You tell me that she should know, Should know of this feeling, about it all. Is this how we mend broken hearts ? Urging them to fly or to fall. Everytime she hear about love, I see a despair, I see her frown. You tell me to let her dive again, When she's still afraid to drown. A coward you say I am, And never shall I be worth for her. For simple words I couldn't utter, Is it too easy to defer ? Since when the cowards turned brave ? Since when the Ravens turned to dove ? Bearing an unbearable suffering, Since when cravens begin to love ? She tell me I deserve, Not her but the most beautiful of them all. No matter how far you try to toss, Back to you I'll crawl. Now rarely she talk, rarely she care, Maybe trying to draw a line. Perhaps while fixing her heart, I broke mine. Now I'll stay quiet for a while, For I'm not her hearts keeper. For far too long it has been buried, And now my love, I'll bury it deeper.
Continue reading...
70
Dreams why must you disappear so fast? Running back into cravens of mind, unreachable. I hunt for you with intent trying to capture the grand adventure. The trip that holds hidden meanings but you play the elusive game making recall almost impossible. Glimpses come through in split second, to be put together like puzzle with many a missing piece. Once eyes open, all is lost to the present moment. Daylight quickly kidnaps thoughts re-routing focus to new day. Alas perhaps tonight I will dream again to have another try in recalling them before dreams play cat and mouse and I am the hungry mouse.
0
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 2:42 AM UTC
Dreams Where Art Thou
Life is a hard road, to move inside. Spending much time far from home of heart. Far from place where soul unites with breath. Place where light vibrates as fiery gift. Where moments connect one to Divine. Life is a bumpy road, to drive on. Spending much time far from cravens of heart. Far from land where miracles unfold. Place where dreams root and flowers grow. Where peace leads inside map of life. Life isn't a hard road to drift inside. When awaking to travel, far into land of heart. Far into place where wisdom echoes. Place where love rules and dance flows. Where all ego roadblocks disintegrate. Life is what you make it. Heart pumps in whispers its a map to follow in breath.
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Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
LIFE
I shall have a word date with another. To romp in cravens of mind connected. To congeal scenes of thoughts that open portals of energetic highways as correspondence is established. I shall have a word date with another, to make war and peace, balanced on scale of day. To let creative mind orchestrate a moment as day unfolds and unknown comes forth centering in my scribes mind. I shall have a word date with another to rondevu and try to understand their view of a thousand thoughts. Invitation is now activated.
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Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
Word Date