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Swan Songs Jan 2021
Safe and sound
That town is drowned

You’re safe and sound
A king decrowned
You can’t stay

But you’re safe and sound
You’re lost and found
Come what may

You’re safe and sound
That town is drowned
Walk away

Throw it away
All your backyard dreams
Are miscreations
Laughing in your face
While you wait
Through unwelcome change
Untrue elation
And chance appreciation

It already came
Jeremy Bean Oct 2013
My heart is but a cavern
vast and dark
cold and haunted
Occupied by unknown
demons and monsters
and knowing
what may reside inside
that pitch black
you still lit your way
and journeyed inside
regardless
Your light scared away
those lurking
and you carved your name
into its stone walls
but then you left
the shadows engulfed
it once more
and the miscreations returned
I sit here alone
running my fingers
across the letters you left
I can feel them
but I can not see them
I know this cave is no place to dwell
or to sit and rot
but I wait here and hope
some day you will return
and rescue me from this blindness
This theory is one of no meaning
A senseless kind of excuse
Something further than this
Deeper than we can comprehend
An ache a vacancy in our head
Filling the space in this silence
Too loud too vast for us to escape
Mixed into this lust and fear
Our out of sync lives broken dreams
A masterpiece of our miscreations
Larry Potter Jul 2018
Fears, they creep
Like vines of thorns
They entangle
And reticulate
What was once a fertile core
Now a bed of insipid desires
Languishing in the intricate labyrinth
Of this dreaded thicket
Full of inner demons  
And self-made monsters.

There's beauty in the horrors
Of its growing corruption
A tapestry of dark emotions
Writhing like hungry worms
Eating this barren soil from inside out
These braids of nightmares
And violent delights
Unweaving
And unraveling
The most sinister miscreations.

I'd clutch the noxious brambles
And let these torments nurture
The toxic vegetation
As it flourishes into
A garden of hysteria
Echoing woes and
Weeping regrets
Until it sees
The light of day
That never came.
Isabella Watson Jun 2016
Am I my art or is my art me?

My words and my paintings might have no relation
To my thoughts and my mind and my current location

Am I responding to existing temptations?
Or is this more then built up frustration?

My thoughts have too many translations
Am I really the creator of my destination?

I copy illustrations
Fueled by inspiration
Holding information
That all lack integration

I have countless hesitations
And I'm in need of confirmation
Someone please offer some consolation
Or maybe an explanation?

Until then I'll continue with so called imitations and miscreations
Until I fully know the situation

Or so help me God
Am I my art,
Or is my art
Me?
prime example of how tøp has helped me, literally pulling words out of my mouth and onto a page for me.
Xander B Mar 2022
What would we do, if we knew, the end was coming soon?
Would we lie, would we cry, would we fall out of tune?
What would we say, if it was today, or maybe even tomorrow?
We are going so fast, will it last, our ever-growing sorrow?
In our mind, is where we will find, the answers that we seek.
Not in our ego brain, which has gone insane, refusing to be meek.
In our conscious soul, that is the goal, to realize our divinity.
To come to know, that this is all a show, our home is in the trinity.
So if the end is near, do not fear, look towards the light.
Our hearts can answer the call, without fall, to do what is right.
If our thoughts can change, we can rearrange, and start to help heal.
So let us walk, what we preach and talk, in our actions we reveal.
That to fix what is wrong, it is like a song, let us create vibration.
Making Truth our rock, from which nothing can knock, us from our foundation.
The end is a beginning, of a time with no sinning, where bad is transmuted to good.
Bringing us back, to what we now lack, the innocence of childhood.
If we accept the love, the Holy Spirit Dove, will bestow us hope.
To be content, and to repent, in order to help us cope.
For our miscreations, are just ill relations, with ourselves and the Source.
With our free will, we chosen to ****, allowing "nature" to run its course.
Let us now go home, no longer shall we roam, returning to the One.
Bringing together all, where none will fall, united under the sun.

— The End —