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I can't calculate your next response

You're boring me to death

never surprised to see me
well it seems you never see me at all

trying to give you my heart
not my soul

I know how to speak
I can't read love

I only know how to write it

flowers in a crystal vase

I'm filling up empty holes

I'm throwing away all of my secrets

he says
don't ask me for favors

It's impossible to ever tell him

I don't want to be honest

I don't know how to be

I'm tired of living traumatized
of it all

I'm trying to give you
my heart

waiting for your response
Terror preys not on innocent victims
As solitude peers not on favors
Assumptions beckons on behalf of pleasures
And life grows in its own flavors
Bolting high for hope
Time sees you and me
Fortuning what desires wish for thee
I’m happy here
In this slowness of life, with you
For birds show me appreciation
Of what life can be
Emma Ottinger Jun 2018
She says she doesn’t have the strength within herself to write poetry.
Yes, her. The one who so often nourished me with song
til my soul began to learn how to hunt for itself,
whose word carried weight in leading me to pick my own instrument,
albeit one of a different tone,
as the key in keyboard became prominent for the first time
and the sound of purposeful fingers upon it could be considered,
only in the right light,
synonymous to the plucking of strings, just as rooted in emotion.

Yet she's the first to say that she herself can't do it.

Thing is, I suppose we’re politely at odds on the matter.
She favors poetry that’s sharper, with a cleaner cut,
that’s message is immediate and jarring
as a conduit running from soul through skin,
or a loose-lipped diary finally freed from lock and key.
And when she declared it, I started to consider what my poems seem to me:
Blackberry bushes (but kinder, I hope)
that snag and immerse just long enough
to make me feel I’ve had an effect.
I’ve used writing to expel my most gnarled feelings
to any passerby who’s maybe felt the same.
Like crying in a mirror:
alarming, but oddly refreshing,
and an indefinite reminder that our aches are never only our own.

Still, I'm not sure why it blows my mind
to hear that even the most glamorous hearts,
who wear confidence as a summer breeze that's always in their favor
and who inspire, from beau gestures to sleight of hand,
are included in those who find themselves pacing back, back and forth,
begging curbside at the dime store
for a scrap of the same feed that convinces a heart to pump ink.

But she says that any art that's enjoyed is worth it.
So while she seeks out words that bare the bones,
I’ll stay and make a meal of the marrow,
hollowing them so that the poetry may have a rightful place
to reverberate as hymns in a universal monastery.

But hell, like I’m any old soul.
I dress nicer than I otherwise would,
turn to the mother who told me I don’t meet her lowest standards,
and ask for a critique.
All for the moment when she greets me at the door with a legendary G#.

...Now please, could you spare a dime?
Dedicated to Elise, who, when faced with my tangled mouthful of flattery, somehow saw through to the part of me that’s actually worth a ****.
Sillo Anderson Sep 2018
Idle love sways around
Capitalizing on what's done
Filling narrowly the fissures beyond hurt
As profound lust gnaw at berated flesh.
Mimicking actions entitled for the best,
Woes trawled at peace, slicing forgiveness
Leaving the immoral of humanity senseless.

Acute arbitrations mingle solely around favors
Spectating drudgery amongst humans and its nature.
For wreaths fall closely, to dreams of being needed
And pleasures steep low from dreamers with bright egos.
there are no more words to speak
she is everything, i could ever need
poetess perplex me
with complex inflections, i don’t dare speak
you utter lightly
and parts of me alight, blindly

she sings in memories,
broken symphonies

she writes in lucid dreams,
her inner meanderings

she dances in emptiness,
the space between realities

the face that nature gave her
the eyes that hold untold favors
sweet scent of honeysuckle
light is her medicine bundle

she says:
use your head to live
use your heart to be happy

firelight swimming
amidst a sacred poison
i fear nothing so i run
come be one with me
its our only itinerary
which needs no reiteration
when love is cheering you on

cherish the dance alone
forms are swiftly forming
remove the stones from your imagination
you are not too far away from home
comb the shores of our emancipation
lies are abundant in these hills
and jobs are more scarce than sheep
but its still the thrill that turns me on
you come home and wipe your feet
and leave the dirt out in the street
life is without a center really, she said
come home, i've made you something warm to eat
He was a male policeman dressed as a pretty female ******.
He was working an undercover sting to catch some stupid johns.
A young guy fell for his trap.
And approached him and grabbed his ****.
The young man then asked to buy ****** favors from him.
The cop then handcuffed him and told him.
You stupid ******* I am a male cop and you are going to jail.
He thought as he was being taken to jail.
That it had seemed strange for a woman to have such hard **** cheeks.
Natosha Ramirez Apr 2018
Verse 1
I didn’t even drink that night, well not a lot.
I’d learned my lesson with that and well,
I trusted him.
Liked him, even. He’d asked me out and I said no,
But I was going to tell him that night that I’d changed my mind.

We’d been together all day,
Just hanging out,
Having a good time.

Always at my expense though
He couldn’t laugh without
Making fun of me.

Chorus
(I didn’t say no.)

Verse 2
He went out of his way to buy me things.
Gave me rides to places,
Went on long walks,
We were such good friends!

We gave each other the cold, hard naked truth.
No questions asked.
I thought I knew quite a bit about how the world worked.
But he said my truth was ugly.
That I had no redeeming qualities
That it was all my fault for being in the wrong place
At the wrong time
And I was wrong for wanting someone to love me despite this.

Chorus
(I didn’t say no.)

Verse 3
He came into the room while I was sleeping.
We’d gone into separate rooms on purpose.
Someone believed I cared enough about myself
To choose.

I didn’t have a ride home.
So I stayed.

(Bridge)
And,


I hated it. Every minute of his hands on my body.
I hated the way he smelled, stale beer and trail mix,
His crooked teeth and visible nose hair.
I hated his ability to lose everything that made him “him”
I hated the way HE STOPPED ME! from “adding another notch in my belt”
Because he didn’t want to “be another number”

I was so angry!
He knew my story, knew my life and still...
He was on top of me, and I couldn’t say no.
When he shoved his finger inside of me...I...froze.
All this time had passed with me underneath him with my heart pounding, and I was sure he HEARD me say no but I didn’t SAY no.

When my friend put his face near mine and told me I wanted this to happen, that I owed him for all the favors I thought were mutual,
I cried but not out loud because I had to “finish” to win.
And all I had to do was say no. That's what he said. Just tell me no and I'll stop.
The liar. THE LIAR!

He didn't stop.

And,

When I saw my face in the mirror, my soul broke.

Because I became his beginning and his ending.

I just...stopped existing.

(Chorus)
And,

I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
Repeat x...
A song from my memory.
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
E-Emotion
Angry, E-book hunger
Tear diamond drop

      Join Me
@ The Body-book shop

The Gold bonds his book Hot Rods
She reads about the Angels and Gods

He covers her mind and book
with his lotion

Are we ready for the E-book
In tip-top condition motion
Someone is mysteriously trying to tell me something?

How the moon hangs low
The book made her eyes
Open to really know?

I phone to book she's the grab bag
I'm leaving on a Jetplane
One chosen E-Book
Was Scarlet love flame


How the book needs to grab you
The day you were born or reborn
Never to lose your sight
But why does he split your pages

In a hot rush* money wages

The heart is bleeding out words
Feeling so crushed the bookend
Energetic stare or the blank stare
Your enticing book
What happens underside me
The pages one-sided

You're the sweet of the complicated
getting bittersweet to be love mated


The sundae banana split
*My ring book marker my lovely curls


I couldn't share my book what it said
Do you really love me
The spinning wheel
Feminity of book so girly but
Love so dizzy

To be told overstocked to be sold
But someone loved it
Its been properly viewed
Buying and reselling hearts of
book timeshare

His workout
he loves his curls
Ebook he sees he memorized
all his European beauty
turning do you love her books madly
The beast  is inside Jekyll
Girls needed to hide but got
Hyde
The book seeing our life
From a blinded pageview
What's beside our words
We need to be upfront
Once in a million chances
The whole planet of funny books
beach house turned
Blank page
of a clown funhouse tree stalk

What is the point of view
Like an adult book raided
If you're the unadulterated
The innocents being naive
Wanting him so much
Whats the use it's like a
the blank page
Like your hairstyle
the sixties pageboy
You need book law and order
Like the Feng Shui book surrender
Be focused Graphically cool artist
And paint it colors no
gun it blanks no favors
My book place has the ambiance
Different mysteries
and suspense behaviors

Somehow it thickens
like "French" roue paste

You didn't want one
page to waste
E for the Exodus
A blank page is love minus
You're hitting a plateau
E- love of kiss-book
French Chateau
Ebook has a pattern the same thing
It repeats and devours your thoughts
The ancient Grecian her structural
form of statues
That rip page needed words to capture

The Clean-Slate page to restart
your flight
The prize
Emprise
Empire to the book hire
E-book desire
E-lust
It sets an example
we need to trust
Not to mislead your mind
Whats behind the book
Exhumed or to be doomed
Like Witchcraft magical hands

This wasn't the Godly land
The blank page had a spell
"The Burned Book" no one
will ever know
Can we take it back what was written inside
We need to restore give more (Cat and Mouse) chase

As my equal poison mind of sugar
Equally or naturally book gifted
Wrap silk ribbons or too much
the anxiety of red tape
Explosion of E=books
Elixir eyes to the Ebook doorway
But the blank pages were
still inside

E-book and the text
Whats next *** journalism
The kingdom of Elust
E-book became all excuses
Those blank tweets of
Hummingbirds
Like you got some
earwax all codes and emblems
My blank form income tax problems?

Storming damage to the max of my book

Hitting rock or book bottom
You're still living in a shape
of an eggcup

And reading by your nook
Your Ebook swish wish a nymph
floating mermaid

Things turn (Retro) just go
The book was the turn of events
More pages to heart mend

We are not experts or philosophers
Get inside the greener grass
like a grasshopper

Your lovely book a tranquil place
You were booked into your gown
But your ebooks is being
transported to other towns

Her heart was skipping his pages
She never got the chance to read
His chosen page
Life is so the open book
Eyes wide shut
E-book a cozy nook and where does it begin or end did I see some blank pages in between. I need a new for a taste for something on my speed I love to read it fascinated me every page but something stopped me to continue I wonder how long will this go on being fun and retro just go to the bookstore you may be pleasantly surprised of what you might see
Lexie Nov 2018
Do you feel the desert sun as it pulls all the moisture from your skin
You barter for each breath lest it escape between your lips
There is smoke in the night
It stings your eyes and is full bodied in your chest
The sand is warmth between your toes
It burns with the heat of the day
Although the sun has just been lain to rest in her bashfulness, looking for her stamina to wear tomorrow
One would not think gravity would pull so hard
It does not seem fair when the stars look so beautiful and call so close
I shudder in the dunes
Oh that dreams were a grain of sand
That they were as weightless
It is not such
I cannot bury the tears
Even still they fall into the earth
A kiss that becomes a vapor
I will water the earth with my sweat and tears
My pores pour out and my spirit follows
She makes me toil and I am not above my humanity
It humbles me, my staircase of pride is a stumbling block
How does one face a new day
I bite my tongue,
To spit in the face of destiny is a fools errand
Yet she has done me no favors and I owe her no respect
A token slipped between hands, a bet and a wager that will not be paid
Unless blood is spilt
The earth claims all, as she bore all
The sand in the desert is burying secrets
The ground knows so much, she does not taste but swallows up
She is a scholar of sinners and will outlast the shudders of your spine
Patient is she
It costs her nothing to wait
Ken Pepiton Mar 2018
Sense touch feel know Sense touch feel know Sense touch feel know Sense touch feel know Sense touch feel know Sense touch feel know Sense touch feel know Sense touch feel  

Lying spirits. Those are real you know. You know? Don't you?

Mad is ill defined, dis-ease, decease, desistere, eh? You Roman?
You serve a mad man you know.
And the Roman said,'I serve the empire, a' and he stopped…

Might right be virtuous and power called might
be not-right,
like hands, chirality? Right and not.

Shame, we should not know that.

Perhaps the vector was the chirality connection.
Hers was upgraded.
So when the shame bomb hit, it was him,
not her, who blew it?
He did that?
Yeh, I see how now,
It's the hypo-thalish, estrogen receptor steward system.
Who named that ****** thing?

No, left-right brain variablity was designed
to counter the estrogen-tester if it went mal.
This is the Left HIS Branch, a resistor,
it changed the way breath gets to that "It is,
good" receptor complex just inside
the ventricles
where the first sparks releaze
the ozone reaction.
The reaction to that lost loving feeling,
That was the shame bomb.
The action taken to a switch burned out
in a rush of knowledge of good and evil beyond
the heart's experience with expansion.
The opposite seems to have happened in the wombedman,
he comprehends hope is a new treasure.
Hope. Who coulda seen that coming?

A witness.
Some mind saw that happen and it was never washed into the sea of forgetfulness, so

Wow.

Like in the mountains, that ozone,
first breath feeling, that's great!
No, like that first free hit. That's it. You will pay…

Like, this first reaction is not "That's wonder-filled",
but it's
"that was not deep enough,
not good enough,
too shallow,
faked it".

On every breath the man takes,
a voice in his head is saying,
"not good enough, keep
trying/dying/breathe/harder.
Sweat it all.
Shame on you."
Shame.
That was the trick.
Make him think he is not related to God,
on any level?
Make him think he does not have a knower
in good working order,
save for that tiny electrical glitch in the
official HIS bundle builder gene. That's nothing,
Who told him she was naked?
That's evil.
What he knew was good, what he believed was evil.

How did it work out?

Okeh. It took several millennia longer
than first estimates.
Starts out kinda dun'dat, don't it?
Things get brighter near the end.
According to the legend I learned.

Knowing liars lie does not make every man a liar, I think,
Only the ones who say they do not
lie have no truth in them,
if they can truly believe that.

It's a chapter, a colloquy of consciousness grounding out.

The story is told,
this is the way men were built, original specs,
able to do anything they agreed to do.
But their hearts had been corrupted because
the whole heart building system in Adam
was dis - turbed, mixed up with that sweet deceit.
If it weren't for mitichondria the sifting needed,
could have taken forever.

By Noah's first beard, the gene pool was so turbid, no one could see the bottom.

Living water flowing from men's bellies,
ta, lemme say,
that be some evolvin' involvin' some
a priori
somethin' or anotha.
Ax that wombedman at the well, what the hell?

There, here, is a whole story about ****** and the seeds of all the myths that point so straight
to Jesus as they red-shift into historical
mysteriums twisted and warped by time and chance tyrannies.
Holiness hierarchical hegemony funds
that sprang from Eve's first hope,
have no hope at all for
cowards and fools and fraidy cats.

Heroes, those compound interest, all things are possible,
except
God can't lie, or die, or fail.

Is living heroic, no. We choose to live.
Life favors life.
That's easy.
All things are possible with life,
as a whole.
Very complex plots and schemes and schemas and media
and magi-level tech
this is working, you know.
We agree. Who could make us enemies?

Still, any plan men made was clear in the minds of all the planners
and the builders and the men they used as tools to
multiply the strength of the ideas that possessed them.
They built cities that way.
By agreeing together to do it. Gobekli Tepi?
You know, what was that ? A
thousand years of CCC park bench building and trail
marking benignly buried with never a mark of destruction?
They, the men planners and builders and laborers, right after the Ice pulled back from the Caucusus
or the Levant lifted up, 12,000 years ago, or so,
somebody builds this place called Gobekli Tepi
about a morning walk, a Sabbath Day's Journey, from
Terah's Local god shoppe in Urfa
the Turks are said to say..

----
Original specs, reset, it's all software.
We can cipher this out,
if we keep our heads
while others about us are losing theirs.

Men with the new softer hearts can do that, they can,
when they put their heads together,
they can make anything happen.
Knowledge is increasing, as we know it.

Nothin''s done in darkness that shan't be made known.

That's no threat.
Never was.
It's a promise. Like, the meek inherit the earth.
This is raw. I am hoping for feed back that tells me if the voice and time and pov swirl I am attempting harmonizes with the idea of a golden meaning in life that spins out from the source of life it self. It is a sc-fi-fantasy poetic philo-loving essay, esse. How can it be better?
[Intoxicated by Freemasons is playing in the background]

(A smokin' hot intoxicated woman walks up to me initiating a conversation in the club.)

Kadija: Hey I couldn't help but notice your gorgeous self from across the room!
Me: I can definitely say the same about you. Matter of fact I'm saying it right now because I'm a free spirit lol.
(We both laughed)
Kadija: You're so **** hot!
(She grabs my face and starts making out with me very passionately.)
(The kiss lingers for about a minute and a half.)
(She then breaks the kiss. Both of us gasp for breath.)
Me: You're pretty ******* hot too!
Kadija: Can you sign my *****?"
Me: Sure I love signing chicks *****! It's one of the best **** party favors in America!
Kadija: I know right!
(She pulls her top down flashing her beautiful tan ***** and tan *******.)
(She briefly rubs/twists her *******.)
(I sign her ***** and put a smiley emoji along with a smiley with shades finishing her off with a deep kiss on each of her ***** giving a little bit of tongue swirling action across her *******.)
Kadija: Whoo! Hell yeah!
(She shakes her ***** from side to side and briefly jumps and down. I was mesmerized by the way they were moving up and down then puts them back into her top.)
Kadija: Thanks for the kiss babe!
Me: No prob. You have beautiful *******. I like them.
Kadija: They like you too lol.
(Grinning from ear to ear I smile.)
Kadija: Come on baby give them a squeeze lol.
(I grab her ******* and squeeze them.)
(She grips my **** through my pants and starts rubbing it.)
Kadija: Mmm thanks babe. These ***** have been needing a little TLC anyway. They've been bored to death and needed a little fun and excitement.
(We both laughed again.)
Kadija: But if you really wanna see them in action there is a bathroom right behind us.
Me: I'm down
Kadija: Come on baby let's go.
e fields Nov 2018
Desired to be more attuned with idols
Their private lives gleaned from
Stills and moving images cutting swaths across
Skyscraping billboards, TV screens
The sides of passing buses
Subway cars headed deeper in,
Further in, beneath
Magazine spreads pulled out for
ad-hoc posters taped and tacked across
the plaster-sputtering suburban drywall paths
Like screams in arctic winds

Many, the young mean-spirited things
Wanting kinship with these enemies
Trying to plot a course to
**** diagonally-up across
their strident wildlife scenes

Attuned with idols riding their
phantom wavelengths with the
maverick assistance of Reds and
water-cut pints of irish whiskey
Then Father comes in proclaiming
to have saved our democracy on
the whim of a lever-pull upon
a municipal voting machine

No interruptions now please
I will direct the favors of my unborn
I am honed in on what really matters:
Hemingway hedonism.
Getting dead with generations
slinking in and out of frame
from before and after
me
Sachin Subedi Mar 23
Get my life away from myself?
No, please don't!
Overprotective to me?
Please don't be

Sincere. I am
Will get every of my work done myself
Can make choices for myself
Can decide for myself
If I ask for a favor
Make it happen, if you like to
If not,
Make it happen , you may not
No worries for sure
Overprotective to me?
Please don't be

Get your insecurities overrule my presence,
No, please don't!
Get over my life, please don't
Its mine
Get my life away from myself?
No, please don't!
Overprotective to me?
Please don't be

Its making me dull
Its making me forget the passion
Its overshadowing myself
Its getting me lazy
Its getting me get to not decide for myself

Right to decide for myself, I have
Right to decide for my truth
Right to mold my own thoughts
Right to become not influenced
Right to choose my thought process
Right to be independent
The human right, inborn

Independence
Is what shapes life with passion
No, its not ignorance
Undermine my choices in life
You have no right to
Compare my choices to that of yourself
You can, but I don't care
Manipulate the choices I make
It does not matter

Independence I am seeking,
Is not the ignorance to everything in life
It's the space of hope and choice in life
It is the space for my own life
It is for my life itself
It is for the heart of a human
It is for the thrill in life that exists
It is to get over with the same old **** you get me into
It is to be open and radical
It is to not get into trouble
It is for your good and for mine

Don’t be dependent on me
I know you are
Take responsibility of your own life
A parasite, please don’t be
Don't try to make me one also
Be ignorant, don't be
On your choices in the first place
Make an effort to make a choice
An independent choice of your own
Choice that favors yourself

Get my life away from myself?
No, please don't!
Overprotective to me?
Please don't be
Its unconscious
Kassan Apr 2
Lit
Gas chambers,
Puffing on a breath of exhale.
Heavy lungs made of black acres.
Ashy gases surely want to do me the betrayal.

Pulling ******* a heavy gas,
High time smokers annoy me the most.
Puffing hard, pulling strong and then pass.

Burning a couple papers
Cigarette's ashy body holds no hope nor does me any favors.

Inhale a little more,
Lungs feel heavy, enough to carry the weight of the world.
A blanket of black smoke easily covers my deepest core.

Lit cigarette,
Smoke it well to fill these lungs with regret.

Except, I'm not the smoker in this story.
Heavy lungs of cigarette's air feels highly predatory.

Heavy lungs, Heavy lungs, it's a heavy heart.
Left myself from buying at the corner mart.
Just to walk out of the store to at least feel smart.
A decision to not fall to the prey of smoking at a time of deep pain.


Yet easily picturing the idea of how it would feel if the fall was to be
harmony crescent Dec 2018
"hon-"

"dont call me hon"

"okay im sorry. i know this makes you uncomfortable but its true and you cant keep running from it. you arent doing yourself any favors"

"and youre not doing me a favor either by confronting me"

"i know it doesnt feel like it hon, but-"

"dont call me hon"

"im sorry i just love you and you need to-"

"dont tell me what i need"

"If i cant tell you that you need to stop lying to yourself then you cant tell me to stop calling you hon"

"i hate you"

"well i love you, hon"
st64 Aug 2018
NO FEAR

My eye has acted like a painter and engraved your beautiful image on the canvas of my heart.
My body is the frame that holds this picture; to draw that picture with perspective, realistically representing depth, is the highest skill a painter could have.
Only via this painter—my eye—can you find the image of you that dwells continually in my heart:
Your own eyes are the windows into my heart.

Now look at the favors our eyes have done for each other:
My eyes have drawn your shape, and your eyes are windows into which I can look to see my own heart, into which the sun also likes to look, taking a peep at your reflection.

Yet my eyes lack a certain skill that would grace the others they already have:
They can only draw what they see; they don’t see into your heart.
Sonnet 24 is very difficult to follow even when translated. We are meant to picture the speaker and the addressee staring into each other’s eyes and each seeing his own reflection. The speaker is able to see through the eye of his own reflection into his own heart, where the image of the addressee is enshrined.
Kathryn Rose Oct 2018
Tonight the West sky favors the dream
You left on my bedside table
Washed, soft and dark
Even the clouds cry for you
I begin writing this for one reason I know many confusingly lack, thrashing about in the desperate darkness of existence and uncertainty, and fear of oblivion, and that is; to spread hope.
          The world is caught in a flood of races of every kind, money, power and respect. Most are lost admist these and once they are caught up too deep, life at one point, loses all meaning and has them staring up at an empty wall. Many spend time listlessly trying to come to terms with belief that they're pathetically not so sure is true. Beliefs rooted on the philosophy around death. And because I have been blessed enough to have been one of those gifted with certainty, I wish to share the knowledge and spread hope, because the Creator's blessings are not to be selfishly accumulated for oneself only.
                  Concerning the purpose of life, life is merely a test, a temporary lodging where we will have to prove ourselves by remaining patient and striving for goodness and fulfilling our purpose of being. The life after death, the afterlife, the reality of which I wish to impose, is the real deal. I can swear it, for it is the promise of the Creator, whose truthfulness cannot be contested.
                   For all those hopeless, battling cancer, facing the looming threat of death, know that there is more to existence than the pleasures of this life, but on one condition; you must earn it. Or try. In real, all of us can only try, for nothing our actions may deserve can be as blessed a reward as the reward of an afterlife in Heaven. The actions required are as simple as this, merely obey the Creator who keeps us breathing, bleeding and breeding.
                    As a human being, I've been through what I consider trying times. Difficulties exist in all places, property, people and emotions. It's these difficulties that pressurize you to either crumble into dust, or emerge a diamond. Through my personal experience, I've discovered that, in the end, nothing from this world is permanent. In the end, your part of the world is about you, Islam and Allah. Even your mother, she'll have to go sometime. Sure you can have it all back in the afterlife, but not here. Things are temporary, we get attached to things, but we have to learn to let go to. Except for Islam and Allah. Letting go of Allah means you might as well let go of everything, nothing more will do us any real good.
                       The philosophy that Islam has founded in me is this; whatever plays out in life, the absolute authority, the Power Ultimatum is Allah. So if you strive to be one of those Allah loves, favors and is pleased with, whatever the occurrence, seemingly good or bad for us personally, is on the whole is always the best for us. Whatever the obstacles, whatever the hardships, they are merely things Allah has placed for you to deal with, for you to bear patience and perseverance through. In the folds of Islam, no believer faces a 'Why Me?!' moment. It is always a question of whether you stick with Allah or not. And success in that determines your peace, both in this, and the afterlife. You might fall back, fall down, but getting back on and up is crucial, is the question itself whose answer determines your true happiness. One of the keys is not to succumb to despair, the sort of despair that is devoid of hope, which is an instability in belief. The sort of despair that has no place in Islam, really.
                   All of us have been through depressing times. But to go through that depression knowing it's just a passing thing, a slight test, and to know that after all you always have Allah, that is what Islam has founded in me.
Allah warns us Himself that he has 'created man in toil'. Hardship will always be a huge part of our lives. And it's how we deal with it that matters.
The reason I wrote this is because I didn't feel I in any way deserve the ability to not delve into the depths of hopeless depression. Which is why Islam is the religion prescribed for mankind. Islam is the truth, and in truth, you find comfort, because this Universe is a beautiful thing and few experiences are as bad as going through life tangled in problems, blind to this beauty. When you go through the Universe and life with Allah, you realize you are truly content and that there is nothing but good in the world for one who intends good. That, and that you are one of those lucky enough to have found the toil hard enough to disentangle yourself from this worldly mess and realize the truth, that none of this is permanent and all else will come to pass. Don't get me wrong, You Only Live Once, by which I mean, you only get to do the test once, and your afterlife, for eternity, depends on it. Much like A/Ls and how the future of your life depends on it, but on an existential basis. This is huge. Yet pathetically, many don't realize that.
                 But many times, Muslims, get the idea of Islam wrong. The idea of religious is misinterpreted most times. Religious is fulfilling the duties and responsibilities you have towards Allah, the world and yourself. And one of them is to enjoy your life. Carrying out any work that fulfills the daily tasks you need to get through life for the sake of Allah is a form of Ibadah. It in itself is rewarding. But the crucial thing here is the Niyyath, the intention. And every man shall have that but which he intended.
                   Everyone has a purpose in life, and a part of the world they light up. There are no 'side-effects'.

I really am not trying to spread religion, I'm simply trying to spread hope, but it's inevitable because Hope exists in only one place. And that is in Allah, and for that, in Islam. Allah is merely the Arabic word for God. Yet, I strictly adhere to The name 'Allah' and not God because it is the name Allah chose for Himself and prefers to be called by, and if anything, I respect that. So the 'Allah' isn't the name of a new God or something like that. Allah is God, Allah literally means God, and merely implies the one and only Creator of the Universe and all in existence, the supreme power. Islam is called the religion of truth for a reason. You will find nothing but truth in Islam and don't underestimate or even think of doubting the promises of the Creator.
If you truly intend on finding Allah, finding peace and guidance on how to tread this complicated world and just Why, Why is all of this, Is? Why are we?, then you will find it. For Allah guides those that seek with sincerity.
Senteno Oracle Of The Shadows: So Aziel what's your plan with Frank?
Aziel: Well he is going to help me destroy the Order Of The Silver Knights and in return I shall help him get the Witch who cursed the Forest Of Whispers.
Senteno Oracle Of The Shadows: Well I'll give you some valuable information who your looking for is Bethilda N. Lement. She is a very powerful Witch who with her Elemental Plowness is able to obtain what she wants.
Aziel: Well well ...so the Old Hag still holds the grip over the Forest doesn't she
Senteno Oracle Of The Shadows: Indeed she isn't someone to take lightly now she is well rounded and knows how to fight. She controls The Tavern Of Doom Dragons. In her possession are 3 fully grown Dragons. Blair the Oldest Dragon Claire The Mother Dragon and Aurora the youngest one of them three.
Blair the Black Dragon Claire The White Dragon and Aurora the Stone/Lighting Dragon. Many have meet their doom entering in her territory Cyclop Human and Vampire Alike.
Aziel: I don't have anything to fear.

~Meanwhile...~

Bethilda Lement: Adreanna I want you to learn more about my Dragons start training with Aurora but be cautious she may be only three years old but she is powerful and robust. Lement screeches then Aurora hovers over the Mountain Of Shen* where the Tavern Of Doom Dragons is located. Adrianna Develve places a strong spell in the Dragon Aurora she finally succumbs to her authority.
Adrianna and Aurora go take down the Golem Of Steel  in the Hidden Ruins Of Odom.* The Golem stands 15 ft high weighs 2,500 pounds. Holding a crest of an almost impenetrable diamond in the middle of his chest. Emanating from the Crystal comes all his power and it's his only weak spot. Then Aurora and Adrianna make an impressionable entrance to the ruins and attack the Golem head on. Golem Of Steel: Here stands the infamous Adrianna Develve...well isn't  this a surprise.  I see that you have grown some and are able to maintain your powers well to face me. I know what you want you want the Crystal in my chest...that will be over my dead body. Audon's Crystal* is powerful enough to consume 1000 Well Trained Witches therefore young Witch you don't scare me. Now as for that Dragon well ... perhaps you stand a chance after all.  Adrianna Develve: I usually don't pick fights with powerful DemiGods like yourself but I  am in desperate need for your Crystal. Therefore, you will hand it over or I'll take it by force.  Golem Of Steel:  Good Luck.
Aurora shields herself with Stone Armor and goes head on collision with the Golem. He dodges the attack and  counterattacks with a strong fist to the  Dragons body and knocks Aurora down cracking part of her Stone Armor. The young female Dragon counterattacks with a powerful lighting blast hitting The Steel Golem in the right shoulder injuring him. Develve attacks with a powerful mind blast knocking down the Golem Of Steel on it's back. The Golem Of Steel bleeds blue blood out of his shoulder blade and runs full force towards Adrianna Develve.  She  dashes the attack and counterattacks  with a Shadow Ball attack hitting him in the chest and expanding all over its body. It's a possession Ninjutsu technique making him practically paralyzed for about 2 minutes till he breaks free from the technique but sustains a considerable amount of damage. Adrianna Develve seeing that the Golem Of Steel is showing a sign of weakness she takes advantage to try to inflict him with a spear of lighting into the chest impairing him and he bleeds out the mouth but as the last resolution The Golem Of Steel punches the Audon Crystal shattering it into 5 individual pieces him losing his life in the process however what he didn't know is that Adrianna Develve collected all the pieces however there was a violent explosion at the site shattering huge boulders of steel and inflicting Aurora gravely. Adrianna Develve  hurries and performs a powerful healing spell leaving her drained of all power. Adrianna Develve hurries to get out of the ruins because they are crumbling down. She manages to recover Aurora briefly from there they fly to The Tavern Of Doom Dragons Of Doom Dragons right when she pulls in with Aurora who is injured from the boulders hitting her body and face at high velocity even the Rock Armor was perforated. The Dragon lands barely with Adrianna Develve who gets the Wrath of Granny Bethilda N. Lement. Aurora breathing heavily and bleeding out the mouth slipping in and out of consciousness ...Adrianna Develve barely getting off the Dragon.
Bethilda Lement: What the hell  happened to Aurora she is in really bad shape. Adrianna your completely drained I see you did good by healing her however, she must rest for about 3-4 days now and fully recover from that gruesome fight with that **** Golem Of Steel. Adrianna are you Ok darling? Go get some rest I see you used the forbidden technique of Soul Healing Transfer. Well now you'll live 12 years less thanks to your little sharede. Develve I am thankful that you saved my Dragon from dying but hell consequences are quite dire.
Develve: Here Granny Lement I got Audon's Diamond however it's shattered in 5 separate pieces.
Bethilda N. Lement:  Let me guess the Golem Of Steel did not want this to fall under the wrong hands for it is a powerful relic. Smart move buying time however, useless due to the fact that we got the diamond under our possession. Adrianna we are going to search the Master Forger Of Relics* who can aid us recover this valuable relic to it's original state. It's said that he resides in one of the headquarters of the Order however, he has worked with Witches, Pagans and Nacromancers before so am sure that as long as we provide the right monetary value to repair the relic he'll work for us.
Develve: Why don't we just kidnap him and make him do the work or he pays with his life?
Lement:  Good objective it may have to work that way for us.
Develve: Im aware that the Cyclop population in the Village Of Chalekathan are not taking your threats seriously well ElderLord Gromm has not paid his fee from allowing them to live and not be consumed by the curse itself.
Lement: By killing him we can set an example of what can happen to them if they don't cooperate with our cause.
Develve: It dangerous though he is a strong Leader with lots of powerful influences. Plus he is a highly skilled Witch Doctor/Shaman able to manipulate the forces of nature. Known to use 3 Godly Deities Aikune Chalekathan & Eion. Aikune the cherubim of the Northern Side Of Heaven. Chalekathan the Spirit God embodiment of The Forest Of Whispers and last but not least Eion the mythical creature with an Eagle face 6 wings and the body of a Lion. Embuted with heavenly essence making him a very formidable foe.
Develve:  We will take care of our responsibilities soon but our primary mission is to talk Ayeiton Balderoux III* the Master Forger Of Relics.
: Whoa had no idea he was The Kings kin.
Lement: Indeed he is now go and lay your head and recover some energy because we need to practice your magical plowness.
Adrianna heads towards the Guest Room.

~Meanwhile in The Forest Of Whispers~
Frank Deltoro gets introduced to Gromm ElderLord Of Chalekathan by Jhino.  He also introduces Navarro Castleworth who is pleased to meet the famous Elder.
Gromm: Hello young man I am the protector of this village which has sustained numerous attacks by Lement's Dragons. Develve also partook enthusiastically with her Grandmother in attacking innocent hard working Cyclops. Making them slaves of the Curse which drives them mad and homicidal attacking friends brothers and family so we had to do the inevitable put them down.
Nevertheless, I pray to Deynave Dion High Saint/Priestess Queen Of All Shamanism to protect the lost souls of them Cyclops who fought the curse till the very end but unfortunately lost the fight and in turn lost their lives.
Frank: My condolences to your friends ElderLord Gromm.Am sure they in a better place now at least not suffering. However, I have a personal matter to score with Lement. She kidnapped and murdered my only daughter 10 years ago she was a...his voice gets trembly and he lightly clears his throat..at the same time a solid solo tear drops from his only Eye symbolizing a Fathers great pain and suffering from such an atrocious act." Gromm regains his composure. I got a personal score to settle with Mrs.Lement due to the fact that she took a piece of my heart and soul she killed my daughter. Develve played her part in the kidnapping of my baby girl 10 years ago she would be 18 years old today if Shaila Dair Sultran were alive...her appointed time to be brutally killed by my hand is coming...Bethilda N. Lement has been suppressing her powers for the last 300 years I believe she has some sort of powerful anti-chi barrier put up extending tremendous lengths so even if she is active in The Forest Of Whispers we wouldn't know how to tell due to this **** barrier.
Frank: So your bloodline comes from the Ancient times from the powerful Cyclop Of Royal Priests/Witch Doctors family Sultran.
"A gentle wind blows and Aziel telepathically communicates with Frank.  Aziel: Frank, be careful where you thread I been informed that Lement's Grand-Daughter Adrianna Develve recently gathered Audon's Crystal a powerful diamond known to give its user Bending Steel abilities and higher sustainability. Adrianna Develve has plans to use the Crystal to fully cover the Forest Of Whispers covering every inch of Forest with the Curse which drives all living creatures with a conscious mad totally subseptable to their influence.
However, to you those must be terrible news so my question is...you been in Chalekathan Village for 1 hr and a half you have 5.3 hrs till daylight removing the Darkness powers you currently control.
Frank: I am aware of this Aziel don't worry I'll take care of business.
Aziel: Keep an eye out Navarro I don't  trust him I don't know what intentions he has...plus he is part  of that shady Tower Of Frejoird but perhaps you can use his hatred towards the Order Of The Silver Knights. He can maybe be a reliable source. Be careful Frank.

~Meanwhile in Aziel Castle~
Isis: Well...Aziel aren't  you such a concerned individual...I didn't  know you had a soft spot towards mere humans.
Aziel: I usually don't...but Frank is different from the rest. He is courageous trustworthy and he put his life at risk by helping me regain all my vampiric power. I am in much debt to him...am having second thoughts on your plans to **** him after he completes his assignments that we have agreed upon. If he makes it out alive after all this...he at least deserves a reward and to live.
Isis: Chuckles at Aziel Aziel looks at the Empress with great focus.
Isis: C'mon I'll just have some fun with Frank I wasn't planning to ****** him.
Aziel: I'll  think about it now leave me be I got couple of things I need to take care of.
Isis: Fine Darling I'll  leave you be. You know you are the handsomest of all the brothers you have.
Aziel: Well now Isis you flirting with me...I doubt you'll want my erected tool up your stash. Don't you remember am a Vampire?
Isis: I'm aware of that. Adventure sounds fun plus I never had *** with a hot vampire like yourself.
Isis: Well Doll that is going to be some other time I am working against the clock right now.
Isis: Fine you *****...I'll leave. However, keep in mind that Im watching you closely. Plus remember I still keep contact with DarkLord for soon your Father will be back in this plane of reality.
Aziel: So I have heard.
Isis: Well I have found some juicy
Information about Uriels wereabouts he is in a Modern Castle in America. Amelia St and Cross. Residency 106. He is a huge celebrity in Russia and Germany. Keeps his bloodlust at check with fresh blood always for him to self medicate. Looking only 19 years old he is quite the chick magnet though not my taste his Gothic Progressive Horror Rock made him quite famous. Got 5 albums however kept his personal life well hidden from his fans. Many fake and supportive accounts claiming to know the real Uriel Governale. Though no one truly knows he is a vampire for certain. I know because I searched the private records and found out that he belongs to a High Ranking Secret Society known as Maximillion Vampire Clan. Which performs innocent human babies to be given as a sacrifice towards Baphomet and Azmodeus* 2 Of the Demon Lords of Hell. Your brother belongs to this hidden organization that operates in the Shadows but their latest project is to revive your Father the Progenitor most infamous VampireLord of all time. Dracula! Humanity will cease to exist if he were to be revived. All they need is a vial of blood from all of the current 8 saints and they have their eye on Saint Lauren Glennwald from the Eastern Side of Germany from a small rural community town known as Hertzentmort. She currently 25 years old is on a mission to collect Papal papers for the Order for you know they are closely tied to the papalcy. However, she got body guards that are Elite Knights with very powerful Anti-Witch spells and very accurate at pinpointing weak points in any battle with powerful Witches. So going alone isn't very advisable.<br>
Aziel: I greatly appreciate your information I'll take a look on what my little brother is looking to do. I'll take care of him. Don't you worry I'll be seeing you later. <br>
Isis: Alright..."She steps towards Aziel and rubs his chest and says...my reward is waiting for me...and looks down his pants" <br>
Aziel:  Now your tempting me to destroy that *****... but here this is what you'll get "he shows her his ****"<br>
Isis: Mmmm I can't wait baby...well that's a massive apparatus you got in there just hiding.<br>
Aziel: Hahaha...right. Soon enough I'll be all yours to play with. No leave me.<br>
Isis transforms to a cloud of dark myst and leaves the premises of the Castle.<br>
<br>
~Meanwhile in Uriel's Castle~<br>
<br>
The Maximillion Vampire Club had a secret meeting in the Uriel's Castle. There where many prestigious and famous guests there and so was the Highest Ranking Vampire of the Club Maximillion Virgil Vann himself. Inside the Castle where also uninvited guests from The Order Of The Silver Knights pretending to be Vampires. His name Michael Neil Stalwart & his partner Aalyaah Black. Both of them infiltrated the party somehow the Order Of The Silver Knights caught wind of shady operations in the occult club and decided to check it out. Michael & Aalyaah belong to Stealth/Infiltration part of the Order known as The Dark Ones
. Even the last 5 remaining Dark Priests from the Cathedral Of Skylor* where 13 years ago Baphomet was revived and mortalized to walk upon humans granting favors for a price. Ultimately the price Demon Lords require of humans is their souls to consume them and become more powerful. This 5 Dark Priests where very important in the ceremony taking place because tonight at 3 a.m. they will unify their powers to revive Azmodeus. They were successful on bringing back Baphomet back to life so they are trying to revive another Demon Lord. In Baphomet's revival they used 666 unborn fetuses with 6 babies 3 male and 3 female all born under the sign of Capricorn and all must be 3 months premature. With this requirements met...Baphomet was revived to this plane of existence, however since he was violent and still hellbent from transitioning from the hellish plane to a mortal one he killed and consumed 3 Dark Priests in the process of fully coming to his senses and being able to recognize them and thank them for what they done. Baphomet promised that he would aid them 5 Dark Priests revive all 13 Demon Lords and in turn 2 Of the 5 remaining Dark Priests must sacrifice themselves to the Demon Lords for the strongest remaining 3 get a extraordinary reward.
1.

Minds break apart at midnight,
piece together in dreamless sleep.

Robert Lowell poaches pen-and-ink
drawings for Life Studies.
Sylvia Plath dons Ariel’s red dress,
but loses Ariadne’s thread.  

Lowell raises For the Union Dead,
mythic monument to his family’s best.
Pigeons decorate it with their ***** mess.
Plath pins a ******* to her chest —  
shockingly pink —
and stands beside the kitchen sink,

Stirring a *** of poet’s gruel.
Madness and death the golden rule
no artistry can break. Not even the careless
reader can take leave of these senses

Once they’re rendered on the page.
Confession doesn’t age well,
as Lowell knows oh so well,

unless it suggests more substantial fare,
say, a flannel bathrobe for him to wear
in a Boston psychiatric ward — if he dares.

There’s something wrong with his head.
Crown him Caligula; his lineage has fled.

“What does that have to do with me, Daddy?” Plath artfully whines.
“Fill the tulip jars with red water, not wine,” he replies.
“The bridegroom cometh. Turn off the oven.”
But it is too late. She has met her fate before it predeceases her.

Like a teacher’s pet, she bets her life on a recitation
of Daddy, a term of endearment,
a term of interment in a stark, loveless miscarriage,
a dark, masculine disparagement of her freedom. O Daddy dearest.

Lowell shoots up to salute the younger poet, guessing
she has given the year’s best reading by a girl in red dresses.

At this stage, what does it matter that his “mind’s not right”?
What can he do but give up his right to pray, as every insight
       slips away?

But no Our Father for Plath. For her, the Kingdom comes too late.
Colossal poetry cannot save; the poet raves and raves and raves
       into that dark night.
Turn off the oven, turn out the lights. Daddy, too, is not right.

2.

Blake fired his Proverbs of Hell
in the dull, damning kilns
of England’s Industrial Age.

A poet’s no sage, but Lowell earned
his wings when he doctored Blake’s phrase:
“I myself am hell.”

A stone angel directs his descent:

Fortune favors the bold.

Never discount the power of chance.

Affliction of the senses is a gift.

Invisible seeks invisible.

Darkness obscures our limits.

We carry darkness within us.

Anarchy breeds spirit.

Artistry breeds no merit.

Appropriate beauty, at all costs,
whether, man, beast or angel
.

3.

Poetry births an artifact of words; we unearth them, and they adhere.
We bury them, and they fall flat — hollow sounds, futile splats,
       prehistoric grunts ground into the ground.

Bathed in lithium and alcohol, here bobs your calling, Robert:
Everything matters; nothing coheres.
Build a shell of a soul on this maxim, a notebook of negation.  
       Grind your axes.

Sanctuaries may crumble, gates may close. Press on. Press on.
Corkscrew your identity into the iambic line; rouse the reader to find
the misleading promise of Eternity in the sonnet, the sonnet,
       the endless sonnet.

For minds lost in madness, tree limbs dangle like kite tails in the wind. No one flies here anymore. Gather reddened kindling while ye may.

What exiles you from the ancients — Homer, Virgil and Horace —
springs from vision, not technique: You lack the requisite blindness.

Absence absents the soul. Here, now, forever, shimmers only presence,
only the present, only Presence: divine, human, animal, marmoreal.
       Skunks, sails, cars and pails. Sing on, O son of New England!

Day by day, failing all, fill your void with fiery
hieroglyphs of verse. Then call your duty done.

4.

Behold: You are not the favorite, after all, but Camus’ stranger,
trapped in the blinding sun, stumbling on the burning sand.

Only what dies in you endures.

“Is getting well ever an art,
or art a way to get well?”

The skunks scurry, scavenge and survive far too long for you to answer.

You lie down beside orange fishnets, facing the shore.
At midnight, you will dream of dreamless sleep.
To follow the development of this poem, it's important to know the works and lives of the confessional poets Robert Lowell and Sylvia Plath. If you are unfamiliar with them, I suggest you first read "Skunk Hour" by Lowell and then "Daddy" by Plath. Short biographies would help, too.
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