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"nulling" poems
Vacivity feels abstract, yet maims nether ends Burgeoning to habitual like repeated ****** Overcoming this notion of occurring widdiful By consummation within myself Nulling unfurling wounds Garbed in a crimson lagoon
0
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 6:06 PM UTC
Pure
Where were we when you quit the sound? Caught in distance while you hung around Encased inside of our own menial pursuit Flaunting desperation as a constant survival As you battled death in your combat boots There is no glory with fate as your rival What were you seeing in your distorted mind? As you ate your last words and ecstaticly dined At the chemical festival of illusions' absorbtion How far did your gaze stroll onto the other side? did you meet with an end or the start of damnation? In which lonely drawer do your dreams now reside? Where have the remnants of life made their grave? Are they in the lingering regret that you've paved? Through each flash of your face and casket sight The delusional rebirth of your presence revealing; Fragments of ended realities giving spark to night Burning sigils into visions of a broken feeling Flame lit sketches etched across a charred eulogy Only a name remains lying in the wake of a memory Pieces scattered amongst an unfitting resting place Conflicting beauties molding a divine contrast A devil laid to rest in the midst of holy space One shade of diversity on a bland earthly cast Echoes of descension from this dimming black sky Adorning each reflection with your hollow eyes Complexions left searching for an answer to hold As to how lifes' vigor can so swiftly fall to decay And,The aging of dignity resembling every tale told Seems to shine a reality check on this tragic play A nulling backdrop for this cemetary playground Where the kings and queens become tediously crowned With a sickly ailment that reaks of dalipidation The stench of the end atop an eternal retrospect Glaring back with the most sincere of validations That the fallen live on as our recollections resurect
0
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Cadaverous Animus
Where were we when you quit the sound? Caught in distance while you hung around Encased inside of our own menial pursuit Flaunting desperation as a constant survival As you battled death in your combat boots There is no glory with fate as your rival What were you seeing in your distorted mind? As you ate your last words and ecstaticly dined At the chemical festival of illusions' absorbtion How far did your gaze stroll onto the other side? did you meet with an end or the start of damnation? In which lonely drawer do your dreams now reside? Where have the remnants of life made their grave? Are they in the lingering regret that you've paved? Through each flash of your face and casket sight The delusional rebirth of your presence revealing; Fragments of ended realities giving spark to night Burning sigils into visions of a broken feeling Flame lit sketches etched across a charred eulogy Only a name remains lying in the wake of a memory Pieces scattered amongst an unfitting resting place Conflicting beauties molding a divine contrast A devil laid to rest in the midst of holy space One shade of diversity on a bland earthly cast Echoes of descension from this dimming black sky Adorning each reflection with your hollow eyes Complexions left searching for an answer to hold As to how lifes' vigor can so swiftly fall to decay And,The aging of dignity resembling every tale told Seems to shine a reality check on this tragic play A nulling backdrop for this cemetary playground Where the kings and queens become tediously crowned With a sickly ailment that reaks of dalipidation The stench of the end atop an eternal retrospect Glaring back with the most sincere of validations That the fallen live on as our recollections resurect
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36
In moments like these, His breathless whisper, Silent and comforting. Soft eyes, believing, Words like music, That flow in a soothing ebb, Ever so ecstatic in form. If only I could know. And in that tide of pure happiness, That fraction of a second, Wherein only the purest joy exists. When our eyes meet, To be known, to matter. For that brief moment of time, When the veil drops, And he peers into my soul. The warmth in his eyes, Nulling out everything That makes life miserable. To know that at that moment, My existence matters, And I'm not someone, In The Background.
0
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
To Matter
You’re Beautiful stirred my cockles Made me blush Although much more thrillin’ than Calvin Trillin Your vers libre’ is so jaded mon cheri You crave more You deserve more Like the snowflakes in the park So why waste your virtue on knaves? Let your fingers do the walking Try groping the grotto Nulling the void Close your eyes and enjoy the moment At least it’s *** with someone you love Then enjoy the simpler pleasures of life Write-on
0
Dec 29, 2010
Dec 29, 2010 at 2:16 AM UTC
Write-on
Maybe i dont deserve love. Maybe all the time ive spent Staring at the second hand On the clock waiting for love Was wasted because the clock turned out to be broken. Maybe my other half just doesnt exist like a sock thats come out of the dryer and cant find its match. Maybe God has just been shaking his head at me wondering why i act the way i do. Maybe im just a mess who thinks too highly of herself and is too arrogant and sets standards too high therefore nulling and voiding anyone who could love me. Maybe i have become so set on finding "the one" that ive forgotten the people in front of me (whoever they might be). Maybe i dont deserve love because I dont think i do. And that is exactly what scares me. Maybe i dont think i deserve to be loved.
0
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 11:02 PM UTC
Maybe
Dear ribbons of waterflame,                        gold, green and blue                 swathes itself around my palms,                                                             becoming             a ball of radiant waters that floats in           cupped hands and at the thought of       love, it buds and curls like a lily's petal        and              the years of hushed times                   eat at my very soul, nulling                       deafening me to the music                              of the mint-dark sky,                                 of the flame-thorn sun                           of the bone-white stars                  My feet are kissed by the             star-studded shores, washing,        relieving the   fragments of my shattered past I keep the shell of my hope   shielded       in my ***** near the heart         My eyes dancing zultanites            With my gaze on the horizon                    rise the clouds of trouble                     How long will I plan to thrive                   when I am but a shrinking violet             cold, iced with scorn           but        I am the Mistress of Waterflame     Daughter of the Mers and   Scion of the Dragon Line      So blood will bend and billow          like flowers             So fits the one of the skies and sea              An expert who delivers in         the trade of     death But the hope in my ***** pulses       As my bloodlust evulses                 As I dream of the warmth that will soothe my weary
0
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 4:27 PM UTC
Whispers
Dear ribbons of waterflame,                        gold, green and blue                 swathes itself around my palms,                                                             becoming             a ball of radiant waters that floats in           cupped hands and at the thought of       love, it buds and curls like a lily's petal        and              the years of hushed times                   eat at my very soul, nulling                       deafening me to the music                              of the mint-dark sky,                                 of the flame-thorn sun                           of the bone-white stars                  My feet are kissed by the             star-studded shores, washing,        relieving the   fragments of my shattered past I keep the shell of my hope   shielded       in my ***** near the heart         My eyes dancing zultanites            With my gaze on the horizon                    rise the clouds of trouble                     How long will I plan to thrive                   when I am but a shrinking violet             cold, iced with scorn           but        I am the Mistress of Waterflame     Daughter of the Mers and   Scion of the Dragon Line      So blood will bend and billow          like flowers             So fits the one of the skies and sea              An expert who delivers in         the trade of     death But the hope in my ***** pulses       As my bloodlust evulses                 As I dream of the warmth that will soothe my weary
Continue reading...
43
slapped awake by the cold hard hand of morning forced out of a nulling comfort not experienced, just remembered yearning to return to blackened silence, of world, and mind as progressing hours pass the craving deepens along with the hope of a return to blackened silence, of world, and mind
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Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 12:43 PM UTC
Blackened Silence