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Eleete j Muir Apr 2012
The constellation of the celestial shrine
The author and finisher of our faith,
Dead set against the Old Serpent
As poor as a church mouse
Playing with the ghost of a chance,
Earning like Cain, the milk of a coconut;
Crying quarter entertaining (decollate) angels unawares,
Kith and Kin a church invisible, fast and loose
Perpetuating the false dawn of sombre dreams
Amid the tranquility of evil, whispering
Of time, the harmonious echo of silence
Soul enlightening at the gates of death devouring
Light, the omniscience of truth, as the
Devil loves holy water, a conjuror
Of the wages of sin.




ELEETE J MUIR
S B Yerns Sep 2019
One simple thing. For most on this Earth life is Hell.
The busy city streets with cars flashing by,
The tall buildings that scrape against the sky.
The city we love, because our society loves to hate.
The city we live in, the city we call Hell.
But even in the dark city, with demons waiting at every turn.
There is hope that we can prevail,
that we will not get caught Hell’s fire and burn.
Only you can change this life and it’s up for you to decide,
Because Hell Is What You Make It.

For most on this Earth life is Hell.
Walking into a decollate and gloomy school with a smile on your face.
But the demons will soon come ready to destroy your mental space.
You can run for miles and you can try to hide,
But the only thing that can save you is the friend who you can rely on.
They pick you back up, alone, from the dusty ground.
Yall blast your favorite music excessively loud,
and they manage to quickly fix your frown.
We choose who this person is, so they can keep us alive and able to thrive.
Because Hell Is What You Make It.

For most on this Earth life is Hell.
But then you meet someone, and Hell begins to freeze over.
They are the most beautiful thing you think you have seen,
like a slow and melodic composure.
You will still dream about them, even after they
rip their presence from your side.
Like the other half of Velcro,
you can hear the static-like sound from inside your own head.
You will be left alone in the dark sobbing about them
even when you have no tears left to let you drown.
But then there is someone new and,
unlike any other drug it’s a whole new high.
You forget that love shattered you like a pane of glass,
Just give this crazy idea of love one more chance.
Because Hell Is What You Make It.

For most on this Earth life is Hell.
Because sometimes you lose the only glow at the end of the tunnel.
The person that shined like the sun in your life is now gone.
You become lost in the forest of the world, like a little fawn.
Some get ****** into the dark abyss;
as the light is stripped from their being.
Some just glance past,
without even realizing the monstrosity they are seeing.
But the demons always try to cover up our beautiful, warm glow;
It comes down to us, as individuals,
to find the lesson learned from pain and loss.
and continue to let light flow
Because Hell Is What You Make It.

For most on this Earth life is Hell.
At the end of it all, I have picked up one lesson for sure.
Hell Is What You Make It.

— The End —