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"maleficent" poems
Distant learning courses in the heart Irrelevant actions have left us all apart Acquisitions decaying those stray minded people It's no longer a commonplace to feel peaceful Simultaneous occurrences have our mind in disarray Through our pasts they begin to replay All these calamitous activities brought through maleficent eyes Disintegrate what's left sending us in a fools paradise We reap to elope from these rigorous bearings we call home Only to find ourselves cast away into the unknown We strive to survive in a world full of abhorrence Being seen transparent just as worthless corpses Those few who prevail are not left without detriment They are forever severed a mental delinquent **Nevertheless our story lives on In this godforsaken marathon** -Joseph B Schneider
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 12:38 PM UTC
The Marathon Man
Sapphic sapphires glisten in the moon These ladies say that Hades makes them as dry as a sand dune Maleficent and Cruella mark their spells on their heads And quietly they tiptoe and sneakily their treads- Move with a rhythm only grace can create Enchanting are these women, seeing them is fate To be an audience member to their auras and their moves Is an opportunity that is divine, spiritually proved Indigo in color, L words leave their lips Straight and curvy bones and fat   vibrate from their hips They mesmerize, they enchant, they let their inhibitions soar Until they dance away, unhinged, and you can't see them anymore Remember this encounter, it is one that will inspire It will make you feel a type of way, it will ignite a fire
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Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 10:13 PM UTC
Ode to Sappho
I You said all you could see in my eyes was passion, But you were staring down the barrel of a gun, Russian roulette, Go look at your journals, you always knew love was quixotic, But you continued to fall deeper into a terrain uncharted, Leaving me to plan everything, all the adventures, “spontaneous,” We were never “we,” it was all faux, like my smile, maleficent. II Tattooed in a place you never saw is “maleficent,” I had to remind myself who I was, you were so full of passion, Waiting for the trigger after every outburst, each as spontaneous As the last, you always carried a deck of cards but you preferred roulette, You’d lost so much anyway, but this game sent you somewhere uncharted, All you did was watch the stars, you needed a compass, this love was quixotic. III My love was there for the taking, it was I who was quixotic, How did you miss it, I am Miss Maleficent, My name is on broken hearts everywhere, in places uncharted, But only to you, I’ve been everywhere, recognized your passion, Loaded my gun, tried to fire, ended up blinking, **** this roulette, I had to end it faster, I blinked till I cried, that was truly spontaneous. IV I am Miss Maleficent, you fell to roulette; Curse your passion, and feelings uncharted; Our love was both spontaneous and quixotic.
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
Miss Maleficent
I wish I were Frida Kahlo's vibrant Mexican flowers Or Salvador Dali's dripping watch Van Gogh's maleficent moon Warhol's saturated polaroid Klimt's ****** lips Or Vermeer's cornflower blue and singular pearl But I am yet to make a stroke in ones historical aesthetical eye
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Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
Frames
O daddy, Why are you so Maleficent? O daddy, For our health you are Maleficent! O daddy, Why so much discipline? Are we not your children? O daddy, Why such strictness? Why such madness? O daddy, Why should now we do it? O daddy, Remember that you failed too! O daddy, Stop imposing your dreams on us! Stop being strict with youngsters! O daddy, Such mirth we do never deserve! Such unworthy treatment, why!
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Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 1:40 AM UTC
My Children Think That I Am Maleficent
Oh, When a man clips our wings We won't be pleased Till vengeance sings When love first starts We are happy and mild When he breaks our hearts We become wild Oh, Love is such a tumultuous thing It starts with passion Ends with sting
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Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
MALEFICENT
the invisible hand is in my pocket pilfering everything and there's nothing i can do to stop it from robbing me blind it does not guide it only destroys personal expression under the whims of an outmoded model of economics capitalism a philosophy that subscribes to the metaphysical conclusion that a spiritual malady plagues every human heart a harsh chorus that rings like a melody of triumph in the multi-million dollar mansions of the 1% convinced we're born selfish it seeks to reward us for our own malpractice an edict predicated on social darwinism that forestalls the possibility of future charity as it drowns in the throes of misanthropy and butchers any hope of philanthropic community or basic humanity to vanquish our more maleficent impulses relegated to paying taxes to ensure the illusion of security while our money finances endless war and police brutality rather than healthcare or education they know if they keep us sick and dumb they can get away with ****** if the population shirks in horror from the looming specter of terrorism they can justify ubiquitous surveillance that robs us of our right to self-determination but people should not be afraid of their governments governments should be afraid of their people they say we can't be trusted that this is for our own good but i'll call their bluff that bull on Wall St. is full of **** and like a matador i'll entice it to lower its horns and charge when itsjust a hairsbreadth away i'll turn to one side and let it skewer the slave-driver raising his whip behind me that same skulking shadow that turns veterans into homeless wanderers begging for loose change in Central Park a pale horse haunting the aspirations of college students it leaves the poor and oppressed shivering after dark and overburdens broken backs god doesn't hold up the world like Atlas we shoulder the globe now watch us shift the weight brought down by the people you tried to suppress this is not some petty expression of vengeance but the rallying cry of a dream deferred exploding out to meet your injustice mark my words we're taking over the world
0
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
dam(nation)
the invisible hand is in my pocket pilfering everything and there's nothing i can do to stop it from robbing me blind it does not guide it only destroys personal expression under the whims of an outmoded model of economics capitalism a philosophy that subscribes to the metaphysical conclusion that a spiritual malady plagues every human heart a harsh chorus that rings like a melody of triumph in the multi-million dollar mansions of the 1% convinced we're born selfish it seeks to reward us for our own malpractice an edict predicated on social darwinism that forestalls the possibility of future charity as it drowns in the throes of misanthropy and butchers any hope of philanthropic community or basic humanity to vanquish our more maleficent impulses relegated to paying taxes to ensure the illusion of security while our money finances endless war and police brutality rather than healthcare or education they know if they keep us sick and dumb they can get away with ****** if the population shirks in horror from the looming specter of terrorism they can justify ubiquitous surveillance that robs us of our right to self-determination but people should not be afraid of their governments governments should be afraid of their people they say we can't be trusted that this is for our own good but i'll call their bluff that bull on Wall St. is full of **** and like a matador i'll entice it to lower its horns and charge when itsjust a hairsbreadth away i'll turn to one side and let it skewer the slave-driver raising his whip behind me that same skulking shadow that turns veterans into homeless wanderers begging for loose change in Central Park a pale horse haunting the aspirations of college students it leaves the poor and oppressed shivering after dark and overburdens broken backs god doesn't hold up the world like Atlas we shoulder the globe now watch us shift the weight brought down by the people you tried to suppress this is not some petty expression of vengeance but the rallying cry of a dream deferred exploding out to meet your injustice mark my words we're taking over the world
Continue reading...
63
Our Father          Woe! to these  demonic determined downtrodden deceivers,          Woe! Oh Thine merciless mendicants of misery and maleficent mendacity          Woe! Oh common corrupt conniving cunning calumnious crusaders of crucifixion...           scurrilous screeds scribbling sorrows           The Lord will sharpen thou pencils...
Thou pocket protectors whilst melt into thine *******
Thou spectacles opaque and  permanently smudged...with  other assorted myriad miseries        Thou  mittens will be smitten with interminable degeneracy...        Oh languid leaders of licentious lubricious larceny..           Oh craving calculating copious concupiscent  calumnious falsifiers...          Oh maudlin mocking  manipulators, multitudinous marauding machinations   **Thy God is an angry God  a vengeful God      a jealous God**   Oh **** pots and gall!  Oh sordid ****** insalubrious denizens of depraved      degeneracy Take heed  thou names mightn't appear in the almighty book of life when  judgement deigns an    opprobrious order of objurgation                      terrible tragic tempestous tribulations  of treachery                               Oh  Woe! Alas!            They are fallacious febrile fabricators, fallen , fragmented flawed fugacious furtive     falsifiers!!                 scalawags and rapscallions..rascals of ribaldry..forlorn fallen away backslidden  recalcitrants…             Oh misguided miserable miscreants, maladies and agitation be thy lot!          This rant has been brought to you by:          The Most High and Holy Priest of the Ignoble Church of Alliteration & Utter Skepticisim
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Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
The Besotted Wayward English Major Turned Priest
Our Father          Woe! to these  demonic determined downtrodden deceivers,          Woe! Oh Thine merciless mendicants of misery and maleficent mendacity          Woe! Oh common corrupt conniving cunning calumnious crusaders of crucifixion...           scurrilous screeds scribbling sorrows           The Lord will sharpen thou pencils...
Thou pocket protectors whilst melt into thine *******
Thou spectacles opaque and  permanently smudged...with  other assorted myriad miseries        Thou  mittens will be smitten with interminable degeneracy...        Oh languid leaders of licentious lubricious larceny..           Oh craving calculating copious concupiscent  calumnious falsifiers...          Oh maudlin mocking  manipulators, multitudinous marauding machinations   **Thy God is an angry God  a vengeful God      a jealous God**   Oh **** pots and gall!  Oh sordid ****** insalubrious denizens of depraved      degeneracy Take heed  thou names mightn't appear in the almighty book of life when  judgement deigns an    opprobrious order of objurgation                      terrible tragic tempestous tribulations  of treachery                               Oh  Woe! Alas!            They are fallacious febrile fabricators, fallen , fragmented flawed fugacious furtive     falsifiers!!                 scalawags and rapscallions..rascals of ribaldry..forlorn fallen away backslidden  recalcitrants…             Oh misguided miserable miscreants, maladies and agitation be thy lot!          This rant has been brought to you by:          The Most High and Holy Priest of the Ignoble Church of Alliteration & Utter Skepticisim
Continue reading...
24
Does it matter more to you that you care for others or that others care for you? Would you take a series of bullets Would you leap before a dashing car Would you dance on sweltering embers for the sake of one who does you nought in return? Wouldn’t most or wouldn’t anyone endure the worst for acknowledgement and commendation… I try to be gallant—self-sacrificial, Try to be benevolent, bleeding heart beyond comprehension Yet am I worse than the slaughterers? The iniquitous, the rest? No more than the vile, reprobate, devilish… For who, after all, Cast oneself beyond forgiveness The felon who would exploit acts of selflessness To assemble his own Maleficent, pernicious lair Of praise, acclaim, and comfort.
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 5:52 PM UTC
Which Matters More
Standing solid and still just like the red oak it once was. I trust it will hold me. It’s sturdy and reliable. Like the man who once sat in it. The man who once held me. It’s a coffee and cream color with highlights of gold and low lights of auburn and each crack and stain tells a story The Maleficent purple stain on the back right leg. a toddler that would grow to be me running with a PB&J in hand unaware of my brother's Hot Wheels Derby taking place beside the table. All it took was one untied shoelace and all I remember is a symphony of tiny cars clinging and clanging and four year old me falling face first into the tile As the PB&J propelled forward smearing brownish, purple goop. The crack where your left shoulder might touch if you leaned back. I honestly don't even know what it's from. Maybe an argument that got too heated? Or simple ware and tear over the years? I never asked.  I’ll never know. This chair brings me both comfort and pain. Comfort when I sit after a long day on my feet. Pain when I walk by and stub my toe unexpectedly. Comfort when I remember all the times he held me in it. And pain when I remember he will never hold me again.
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Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 3:25 PM UTC
grandpa's chair
i'm two traits converged into one messy finger painted paradox a disposition to do good, but i have maleficent intentions set in stone, my mind shows me how i look in the mirror but the threads of my body are like looking through a window, then again, who isn't wondering about the reality other people hide like a facade, cleverly subdued and sinking me in cold water until the ice is all i've ever known love is a difficult topographic setup, unable to be evened out inconsistant roads and treasonous dead ends bother me because it's potential to break my interior and exterior, but what do i matter? sticks and stones don't bother me, it's the words that break my bones and assist my architecture i carefully built along with my empire built from my bare hands to tumble haphazardly out of my reach, pulling these weights along my feet for some type of hope that things will finally become clear - kra
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
benevolence/malevolence
By Arcassin Burnham My garden, Can't be tampered with, I'll get a perfect temper quick, I do it for the hell of it, Do it for the hell of it, I just do it for the hell of it, Your death, Your too far from it, Let it simmer, Reminiscing all the time you spent, With her, Making sure your not a counterfeit, Nobody likes fakes, Separate the ******** from the ***** Get it, Finding a fix for your trip, Take it to Hawaii, Let it sit a bit, I don't got no time to be maleficent, I swear to god she was heaven sent, If there ain't no chance in hell, To show you what life is, If there ain't no chance in hell, To show you what love is, If there ain't no chance in hell, To show you what greed is, If there ain't no chance in hell, To show you what chance is, Now take it!!!
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC
"If There Ain't No Chance In Hell"
count each and every grain i cherish them all the same they're the only friends i have across this endless plane of granular particles kicked up every so often by a storm that shifts this desert from one spectrum to the next like filtering time through the sieve of some infinite hourglass i will drive this lumbering beast across theses seas of sand reclaim what they stole through duplicity coax this hunk of junk to life if need be to outrun the lingering fear of inadequacy i don't know god but i met the devil i've been his captive for 7,000 days a hostage of hellions obsessed with a decadent religion of misanthropy the shifting wind-swept dunes my only markers on this winding road a roguish rebel defying hegemony manifest in maleficent misogyny i'll strive to live not just survive in this endless wasteland hope may yet arise
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC
Imperator Furiosa
Lady Greene, maleficent in intent, irrupted, casting pale blue shadows across the stone walling which begged of freedom willowy now in stance, plaid cloak hanging loosely from her frame, resembling a marsupial, with a gaping pouch keeping her harness inside, a typical crank, eccentric and unduly zealous, she would divulge those none benevolent feelings frankly, without restraint her sharpened tongue, cut like a smashed glass plate instinct told her now was the time and as she rushed through the gate of the enclosed garden, the grassed open fields, parted with fear, at Greene's baleful stare Able Master raced toward her fitting the gear to his head she mounted the saddle darkness falling at the first sign of movement. © Sia Jane
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Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC
Lady
I think Rain is the weary humanitarian. She’s the voice of reason,drowning the world in throbbing anger with watercolours, smudging pavement and hesitant minds. Not tears, or sympathy, she’s yelling for us in pristine drops of impatience. Wake up! What are you doing?! She whispers so loud, she’ll tear us apart,ground swollen with her heartfelt anger. She hates us, really. She’ll erase us away,no laugh on her lips. Just the rat-a-tat of old typewriter keys and maleficent moisture.
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Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 7:45 AM UTC
Rain
LIMBO There is a perch above the earth, That some reside Not quite as high as the sunrise But just beneath the cool of the night sky I deny that I feel envy to those above I But I do imply that my mind sometimes Fantasize of tippy toed extensions Squinting eyes and hands high to the heavens as I grasp at the precipice thrilled at the benefits That awaits an individual such as me A monumental moment most men may miss Due to the maleficent molded macho make Of there guarded guile jilted while stilted Elevation of ones own ego But we know it’s a heavy task To wear that mask when Peaking up at that perch Only makes your neck hurt But the toll to reach that elevated road Is as simple as letting her know You’d rather be home Just you two alone Two heads on one pillow Curtains drawn and windows closed Night till dawn with flesh exposed Just three words to let her know “Ascend with me” Then of you’ll go And that my love, is the space above Atop the night but below the sun That I seek to reach once you get home Love XIN
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 8:26 PM UTC
LIMBO
When you said you didn't care, My heart broke like glass creations on the shore Where lightening had struck. I've been walking around eggshells for so long with you, My feet started to bleed. You took the wind from my lungs and The rosey in my eyes. When you told me you didn't care, I realized who you were. A crocodile disguised as a lily pad. And I was prey to you, You sought only to sink your teeth into my bones. When you said you didn't care, It was all for my protection. You sought to protect Maleficent By slaying the dragon. I guess this is good, For there is no longer passionate compunction. Or any feeling at all. When you told me you didn't care, I repeated the phrase to myself over and over again, Until the words lost meaning. I became careless around you, You never liked the dark areas of me. The lurking shadows, The mindless tactics of reapportioned reality. When you said you didn't care, I realized I didn't either.
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Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
Careless
We got all the wrong pieces Start building these monsters Detachment, call it apathy Dismissive separation Of our human nation And our humane nature Greed and corruption Technological isolation Which makes violence Towards other nations Easier and easier As internet claws Detonate video game bombs Drones drop their nightmare load And explode human tragedy Making a mass grave And a mad mass of American Assassins Mortal men and women Transformed into Maleficent murdering monsters
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Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
Making Monsters
It's a slippery slope, I hope you know. Said the Solipsist To The Fly. Who was itself A somewhat suspicious Deliciously conspicuous, Most likely maleficent, Manifestation of a mind. A specimen meant just to define, A shade that shall not live, A shadow that shall not fly. Designed to be a metaphor, To make its point and then to die. Invested only to be digested By imagination and an eye. Where within it lingers lonely, Solely stoic for a while, For a time. A casualty of entropy Out of place, Left behind. Or maybe out in front, Depending on your point of view, However long thought takes to stew. The Fly nodded sagely, Behaved as if it knew. Nonchalant with confidence, The epitome of cool. Giving all the right impressions These digressions were understood. As it landed ever closer To sit upon the madman's shoulder To show this silly, pseudo ****** How little he really knew. That being said, If all that is lives only in your head. Could I trouble you for some of that stew?
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Nov 30, 2023
Nov 30, 2023 at 9:29 AM UTC
The Fly
God, i do not know him But i want him And waiting for him just makes Everything else so tedious So slow and it feels as though Am waiting for my life to start. I am afraid, Frankly am frightened, Of this bottomless hole Inside of me, This longing for someone that i do not know It is a maleficent ordeal This feeling i feel I am choked up with feelings A lot of loving to give, But i do not want to give it to the people around Just him, the actor on my tv screen How i wish i could graze his face, With my fingers, Press my lips to his, Feel his warmth and sooth him, How can i love you so much when we've never met? Why do you do me like this? My heart betraying me, Such pain i feel, it is oh so maleficent.
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
This Feeling Within.
Listen... If this goes down like the Christians are sayin'... Ain't no one getting in and god knows it That ash hole loves it He's super into punishment That and judgment Those two seem to be his favorite Bringing true enjoyment So arrogant he wrote it down, A confession in print It's obvious no pastor is oblivious, There's just a willingness, A complete lack of acknowledgment They preach benevolent All I read is maleficent All I see is a battlefront A holy deficit How he treats his creation, Love and compassion destructively absent It's an embarrassment Secondhand, none from firsthand involvement Unless you think abandonment is an accomplishment Or fraudulent is some kind of complement Yeah, I've read it I wouldn't have taken it public It's a narcissistic story of sin and atonement Punished for the failure of a first experiment Because one decided to be disobedient Now ungodly pain will accompany pregnancy, Fuuck the pregnant Punishment doesn't fit the crime, But don't question it That's how it had to be, But I don't understand that argument Does the almighty have a limit? They say no, There's nothing he can't do So, This is exactly how he CHOSE to do it And when it comes right down to it, If this shiit I hear is legit, Let's see if he can feel regret Will we Get any Apology For this kind of "heaven sent" treatment Force it to admit to all of it Even if it takes an eternity, I'll have all of eternity to do it ©2024
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Mar 16, 2024
Mar 16, 2024 at 6:36 PM UTC
~•§•~ Crimeless Punishment ~•§•~
Rolling in late, Mr. Movie sits on his roll-y chair and is entranced by the glittering star and butterfly beads inside the walls of his magical kingdom. He's having a think. He's taking a journey, tuning his frequency to the Centre of the Earth beep boop boop boop beep and then stares at me waaaaaaaaaaay far out. Okay, look, listen to me.... *The ground, did it broked and the dinosaur fell into the shadow like Balrog?* I look at him. (We discussed the death of Maleficent a while ago) But Trevor didn't fall into the shadow just like Gandalf. Uh uh. No, he didn't. He shakes his head. That is a good thing, I say. Yes, okay, now look, listen to me... He lowers his voice to a whisper. (They want him to stop talking incessantly about these movies) But the lava's going to blow and let Trevor out, yes. He nods at me, waiting for my approval. I agree. Okay, and now... He returns to inside the magical kingdom. Chattering away, he travels to the Serengeti. beep boop boop boop beep He turns to me, worried. An elephant graveyard is no place for a young prince. Oops! Oh no! An elephant graveyard is no place for a young prince! Oops! Oops is right. Grabby is less impressed. He's all giggles today but not impressed with me. Slaps me in the face and pours tea all over my stuff. Oops is right.
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Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 4:53 PM UTC
Prudent Movement
Do you dare dabble in unknown power To crush any decrepit enemy Who foolishly tries to flee and cower From your unrivaled, profound devilry? Will you wager your own fateful demise, Even though your sanity's quite terrorized At the atrocious nightmares you create Which none can fathom, yet you celebrate? They've nowhere to retreat from this downfall You've wreaked upon their sordid sanctity! Now, what they must heed is the final call Of their imperative fatality! Suffering in this agonizing Hell, They'll spend the rest of eternity.
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Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 4:16 AM UTC
A Sonnet for Maleficent Woe
She was accused of Many unstable unsatisfactory emotions All of which amalgamated her hurricane soul That so breathlessly changed pace With every maleficent or peaceful encounter That fed the storm of her pith A hollow quintessential girl Hidden beneath eyes of tragic twinkle and An amorphous disposition That so whispered her visceral uncertainty With which She placed her demons in plethora Upon all who obstreperously disturbed The susurration of her own self-cataclysm This decrepit distorted typhoon Of the thundering lullaby she once embraced Dissatisfied with the resonant rhapsodic scintilla She so carelessly went from sonorous to somnolent Once her nature echoed a sanguineous symphony Of intimate honesty’s to now Only as discreetly murmur callous contempt Until this once magnificent hurricane soul Did crumble like the walls her efficacy once Tore down to whimper into the dust that is Now her soul’s riven zephyr.
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Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 12:29 PM UTC
Hurricane Soul