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"immolates" poems
White rain streaks across the black rocks, A soft palm wipes the hair from out of your eyes; Red light immolates the room, We are fun house mirror reflections of each other. Unlikely, but undoubtedly, compatible. The weight is released, and I place the laurel of muse, upon your head. Driven like shadows, across the surface of the day, We move in tandem with the light, but are not of it. But, the warm caress of your affection, It is a light, in and of itself. The morning breeze is laughing in your eyes I see a field of shattered suns, Bursting forth in their brilliance. The maddening illusion of calm is broken, By the raging fever laboring inside me. Engulfing my will, and burning my resistance to the ground, Until every canvas that I capture, and claim in your name, Bears an Image of you, and me just the same.
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Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 9:36 AM UTC
Lucidity
Love is the death of honour pain the demise of grace voices whisper and taunt these thoughts plaguing my waking hours, infecting my dreams i stand before, then toward i crawl yet another cross-roads, another choice run, tempts the voice in vicious spite run and not return, someone else again, reinvent that your worthlessness may not be found the true face to stay hidden behind façade flee, pretend you can be free seductively the voices cajole without cease to walk away from those i owe leaving honour in the dust of broken promises for the pain they bring is to great to bear here people that love me in hope and grace you are not worthy, voices sibilant, bring only pain and i know it is all i am, consumed by hurt a heart beating on for no purpose, absent of reason love immolates me in corrupted, desired, fiery agony destroying strength, abolishing honour here grace has nothing to do but fall, fall fall all,the while voices giggle in mocking murmur.
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 1:24 AM UTC
Run
Lightning was never meant to be tamed Moreso by mortals Ask the foolish and the brave Who died trying She belongs to nature Her mistress is great and terrible Who swallows villages on a whim And decimates cities with a gesture The tides and hail are hers to command The very ocean and the earth her lackeys Lightning is appreciated from a distance Keep a wide berth if you value your life It strikes and immolates With nary a warning It is beautiful as it is deadly But why then Just why Do I override my instincts And walk closer and closer to you Even as the brushfires Creep closer Inch by consuming inch
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Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
Astraphile
For every knight, an adventure awaits. He traverses through the perilous chasms of the demons of his reality, Even the slog of Belphegor's swamp, or the field of chivalry where other knights dare challenge him, Nothing will impede the quest for his princess. His confidence: his steed, His willpower: his armor, but his Excalibur is nothing more than his desire, to which cuts down everything that obstructs his way. The fire blazing in his heart immolates his entire being, The trailblazer will charge toward his princess. But quietly, the silver snake rattles behind him. With each link, it constricts: tightening, choking, draining, Frantic he turns, desperately reaching to find this adversary. The scaly one skulks through unnoticed but ever present it stalks his pray, And finally after binding his beloved freedom, His princess is left waiting Metallic wheezes of his steed scratch through the air like nails on a chalkboard, littered on the bloodstained grass lay shattered remains of his breastplate torn asunder. His most treasured blade now dulled, incapable of cutting through the thirst of his ambition The knight is draped across the floor, a doormat to an abandoned home, With his final breath his last thoughts are of his Rapunzel, as his torch finally extinguishes.
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Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
The Knight of Wands
Rubber chicken bubble bath, greasy chicken nugget, Never learned a lick of math How many in this bucket? Counting on my hands and feet, Spilling sweet and sour, Wolfing down this deep fried meat By dozens every hour. Teriyaki, honey mustard, Barbecue, Atomic, Churning in this raging pit of lava once a stomach. Though many hours pass, a fire immolates my mouth, Then I feel the terror of what waits for me down south. My body is a war zone, a broken ruin burning, Though I may never eat again, I’m bad at lesson learning. For if I ever do, I will forget this day, Once more my organs pay the price, the spice will have its way.
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Jul 1, 2019
Jul 1, 2019 at 1:30 PM UTC
Chicken Nugget Nightmare