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"overthrown" poems
White dreams cascading down my spine, down my trembling thighs with thoughts of slumber close to you, I must have been swept away by this crystallizing sugar. Heavy eyes, fluttering open like an aloof spring day, I have had my fair taste of ******* for the day, yet it tastes rather like infidelity and prayer. Bitter to admit, yes, this ******* has overthrown my gut. I have witnessed the curves of it's chest and wrapped it's spinal cord around my neck. Platonic it may have ended, yet my ******* began with such a sweet taste.
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
*******
Oh! a bare, brown rock Stood up in the sea, The waves at its feet Dancing merrily. A little bubble Once came sailing by, And thus to the rock Did it gayly cry,-- ** clumsy brown stone, Quick, make way for me: I'm the fairest thing That floats on the sea. "See my rainbow-robe, See my crown of light, My glittering form, So airy and bright. "O'er the waters blue, I'm floating away, To dance by the shore With the foam and spray. "Now, make way, make way; For the waves are strong, And their rippling feet Bear me fast along." But the great rock stood Straight up in the sea: It looked gravely down, And said pleasantly-- "Little friend, you must Go some other way; For I have not stirred this many a long day. "Great billows have dashed, And angry winds blown; But my sturdy form Is not overthrown. "Nothing can stir me In the air or sea; Then, how can I move, Little friend, for thee?" Then the waves all laughed In their voices sweet; And the sea-birds looked, From their rocky seat, At the bubble gay, Who angrily cried, While its round cheek glowed With a foolish pride,-- "You SHALL move for me; And you shall not mock At the words I say, You ugly, rough rock. "Be silent, wild birds! While stare you so? Stop laughing, rude waves, And help me to go! "For I am the queen Of the ocean here, And this cruel stone Cannot make me fear." Dashing fiercely up, With a scornful word, Foolish Bubble broke; But Rock never stirred. Then said the sea-birds, Sitting in their nests To the little ones Leaning on their ******* "Be not like Bubble, Headstrong, rude, and vain, Seeking by violence Your object to gain; "But be like the rock, Steadfast, true, and strong, Yet cheerful and kind, And firm against wrong. "Heed, little birdlings, And wiser you'll be For the lesson learned To-day by the sea."
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The Rock and The Bubble
Oh! a bare, brown rock Stood up in the sea, The waves at its feet Dancing merrily. A little bubble Once came sailing by, And thus to the rock Did it gayly cry,-- ** clumsy brown stone, Quick, make way for me: I'm the fairest thing That floats on the sea. "See my rainbow-robe, See my crown of light, My glittering form, So airy and bright. "O'er the waters blue, I'm floating away, To dance by the shore With the foam and spray. "Now, make way, make way; For the waves are strong, And their rippling feet Bear me fast along." But the great rock stood Straight up in the sea: It looked gravely down, And said pleasantly-- "Little friend, you must Go some other way; For I have not stirred this many a long day. "Great billows have dashed, And angry winds blown; But my sturdy form Is not overthrown. "Nothing can stir me In the air or sea; Then, how can I move, Little friend, for thee?" Then the waves all laughed In their voices sweet; And the sea-birds looked, From their rocky seat, At the bubble gay, Who angrily cried, While its round cheek glowed With a foolish pride,-- "You SHALL move for me; And you shall not mock At the words I say, You ugly, rough rock. "Be silent, wild birds! While stare you so? Stop laughing, rude waves, And help me to go! "For I am the queen Of the ocean here, And this cruel stone Cannot make me fear." Dashing fiercely up, With a scornful word, Foolish Bubble broke; But Rock never stirred. Then said the sea-birds, Sitting in their nests To the little ones Leaning on their ******* "Be not like Bubble, Headstrong, rude, and vain, Seeking by violence Your object to gain; "But be like the rock, Steadfast, true, and strong, Yet cheerful and kind, And firm against wrong. "Heed, little birdlings, And wiser you'll be For the lesson learned To-day by the sea."
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80
1508 You cannot make Remembrance grow When it has lost its Root— The tightening the Soil around And setting it upright Deceives perhaps the Universe But not retrieves the Plant— Real Memory, like Cedar Feet Is shod with Adamant— Nor can you cut Remembrance down When it shall once have grown— Its Iron Buds will sprout anew However overthrown—
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You cannot make Remembrance grow
A Rock there is whose homely front The passing traveller slights; Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps, Like stars, at various heights; And one coy Primrose to that Rock The vernal breeze invites. What hideous warfare hath been waged, What kingdoms overthrown, Since first I spied that Primrose-tuft And marked it for my own; A lasting link in Nature’s chain From highest heaven let down! The flowers, still faithful to the stems, Their fellowship renew; The stems are faithful to the root, That worketh out of view; And to the rock the root adheres In every fibre true. Close clings to earth the living rock, Though threatening still to fall: The earth is constant to her sphere; And God upholds them all: So blooms this lonely Plant, nor dreads Her annual funeral. * * * * * * Here closed the meditative strain; But air breathed soft that day, The hoary mountain-heights were cheered, The sunny vale looked gay; And to the Primrose of the Rock I gave this after-lay. I sang-Let myriads of bright flowers, Like Thee, in field and grove Revive unenvied;—mightier far, Than tremblings that reprove Our vernal tendencies to hope, Is God’s redeeming love; That love which changed-for wan disease, For sorrow that had bent O’er hopeless dust, for withered age— Their moral element, And turned the thistles of a curse To types beneficent. Sin-blighted though we are, we too, The reasoning Sons of Men, From one oblivious winter called Shall rise, and breathe again; And in eternal summer lose Our threescore years and ten. To humbleness of heart descends This prescience from on high, The faith that elevates the just, Before and when they die; And makes each soul a separate heaven A court for Deity.
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The Primrose Of The Rock
A Rock there is whose homely front The passing traveller slights; Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps, Like stars, at various heights; And one coy Primrose to that Rock The vernal breeze invites. What hideous warfare hath been waged, What kingdoms overthrown, Since first I spied that Primrose-tuft And marked it for my own; A lasting link in Nature’s chain From highest heaven let down! The flowers, still faithful to the stems, Their fellowship renew; The stems are faithful to the root, That worketh out of view; And to the rock the root adheres In every fibre true. Close clings to earth the living rock, Though threatening still to fall: The earth is constant to her sphere; And God upholds them all: So blooms this lonely Plant, nor dreads Her annual funeral. * * * * * * Here closed the meditative strain; But air breathed soft that day, The hoary mountain-heights were cheered, The sunny vale looked gay; And to the Primrose of the Rock I gave this after-lay. I sang-Let myriads of bright flowers, Like Thee, in field and grove Revive unenvied;—mightier far, Than tremblings that reprove Our vernal tendencies to hope, Is God’s redeeming love; That love which changed-for wan disease, For sorrow that had bent O’er hopeless dust, for withered age— Their moral element, And turned the thistles of a curse To types beneficent. Sin-blighted though we are, we too, The reasoning Sons of Men, From one oblivious winter called Shall rise, and breathe again; And in eternal summer lose Our threescore years and ten. To humbleness of heart descends This prescience from on high, The faith that elevates the just, Before and when they die; And makes each soul a separate heaven A court for Deity.
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55
Sweetheart, calm down. You're not in love nor do you love me. you don't want to, I won't let you. I'm complicated. I'm a mess. After being too in love with someone else. I fell in love with my own company. a little too much, you could say. So even your sweet talk and candy. Your long walks and perfect goodbyes aren't enough for me to leave the comfort of knowing that if i don't try my heart won't break. If a rose doesn't bloom then the petals can't be ripped off. The rose will just be protected by thorns and dirt. Calm down, sweetheart Please, calm down. I don't love you.
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Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
overthrown by thorns
Australia takes her pen in hand To write a line to you, To let you fellows understand How proud we are of you. From shearing shed and cattle run, From Broome to Hobson's Bay, Each native-born Australian son Stands straighter up today. The man who used to **** his drum", On far-out Queensland runs Is fighting side by side with some Tasmanian farmer's sons. The fisher-boys dropped sail and oar To grimly stand the test, Along that storm-swept Turkish shore, With miners from the west. The old state jealousies of yore Are dead as Pharaoh's sow, We're not State children any more — We're all Australians now! Our six-starred flag that used to fly Half-shyly to the breeze, Unknown where older nations ply Their trade on foreign seas, Flies out to meet the morning blue With Vict'ry at the prow; For that's the flag the Sydney flew, The wide seas know it now! The mettle that a race can show Is proved with shot and steel, And now we know what nations know And feel what nations feel. The honoured graves beneath the crest Of Gaba Tepe hill May hold our bravest and our best, But we have brave men still. With all our petty quarrels done, Dissensions overthrown, We have, through what you boys have done, A history of our own. Our old world diff'rences are dead, Like weeds beneath the plough, For English, Scotch, and Irish-bred, They're all Australians now! So now we'll toast the Third Brigade That led Australia's van, For never shall their glory fade In minds Australian. Fight on, fight on, unflinchingly, Till right and justice reign. Fight on, fight on, till Victory Shall send you home again. And with Australia's flag shall fly A spray of wattle-bough To symbolise our unity — We're all Australians now.
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'We're All Australians Now'
Australia takes her pen in hand To write a line to you, To let you fellows understand How proud we are of you. From shearing shed and cattle run, From Broome to Hobson's Bay, Each native-born Australian son Stands straighter up today. The man who used to **** his drum", On far-out Queensland runs Is fighting side by side with some Tasmanian farmer's sons. The fisher-boys dropped sail and oar To grimly stand the test, Along that storm-swept Turkish shore, With miners from the west. The old state jealousies of yore Are dead as Pharaoh's sow, We're not State children any more — We're all Australians now! Our six-starred flag that used to fly Half-shyly to the breeze, Unknown where older nations ply Their trade on foreign seas, Flies out to meet the morning blue With Vict'ry at the prow; For that's the flag the Sydney flew, The wide seas know it now! The mettle that a race can show Is proved with shot and steel, And now we know what nations know And feel what nations feel. The honoured graves beneath the crest Of Gaba Tepe hill May hold our bravest and our best, But we have brave men still. With all our petty quarrels done, Dissensions overthrown, We have, through what you boys have done, A history of our own. Our old world diff'rences are dead, Like weeds beneath the plough, For English, Scotch, and Irish-bred, They're all Australians now! So now we'll toast the Third Brigade That led Australia's van, For never shall their glory fade In minds Australian. Fight on, fight on, unflinchingly, Till right and justice reign. Fight on, fight on, till Victory Shall send you home again. And with Australia's flag shall fly A spray of wattle-bough To symbolise our unity — We're all Australians now.
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This place is dark, familiar, cold.  I know, I know, this story is old. I've loved you, lost you, let you go. Still you haunt me even so. I'll never love another soul, the way that I loved you, as I'm told. Every love is that of it's own and even as I'm left alone, I feel myself quite overthrown. Chaotic oceans of scattered emotions that I have yet to put in place. You've stripped me of a chance for closure and thrown it in my face. Abused and used, abandoned, confused my heart begins to race. I try to please you, even ease you; however not the case. I just want a chance to end things right, to say goodbye without a fight. I want to wish you well in life and make sure that we're both alright. We were once good friends and that I miss, but nothing hurts more than being dismissed. How did I get back here? I couldn't resist, although anything is better than feeling like this. kd
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Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 2:09 AM UTC
How did I get back here?
Dear Lord, let me recount to Thee Some of the great things thou hast done For me, even me Thy little one. It was not I that cared for Thee,-- But Thou didst set Thy heart upon Me, even me Thy little one. And therefore was it sweet to Thee To leave Thy Majesty and Throne, And grow like me A Little One, A swaddled Baby on the knee Of a dear Mother of Thine own, Quite weak like me Thy little one. Thou didst assume my misery, And reap the harvest I had sown, Comforting me Thy little one. Jerusalem and Galilee,-- Thy love embraced not those alone, But also me Thy little one. Thy unblemished Body on the Tree Was bared and broken to atone For me, for me Thy little one. Thou lovedst me upon the Tree,-- Still me, hid by the ponderous stone,-- Me always,--me Thy little one. And love of me arose with Thee When death and hell lay overthrown: Thou lovedst me Thy little one. And love of me went up with Thee To sit upon Thy Father's Throne: Thou lovest me Thy little one. Lord, as Thou me, so would I Thee Love in pure love's communion, For Thou lov'st me Thy little one: Which love of me brings back with Thee To Judgment when the Trump is blown, Still loving me Thy little one.
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It Is Finished
October's bellowing anger breaks and cleaves The bronzed battalions of the stricken wood In whose lament I hear a voice that grieves For battle’s fruitless harvest, and the feud Of outraged men. Their lives are like the leaves Scattered in flocks of ruin, tossed and blown Along the westering furnace flaring red. O martyred youth and manhood overthrown, The burden of your wrongs is on my head.
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Autumn
Who am I? Who am I? A question I always find myself asking and yet I have no idea why. Almost as if I expect the answer to fall right out of the sky. But seriously, do you know who I am? I pretend that I don't give a **** When really it's an act; a sham. Feeling like you do not fit. Honestly it feels like pure **** I don't fit into society's giant puzzle. If my opinion is outside the majority, well let me put it this way, if I were a dog they would force upon me a muzzle. Freedom of expression. Really? I think they mean repression. Do this! Do that! She's too thin! He's too fat! He must go here! Now put her there! All we seem to receive are your endless commands. Expected to follow at clicking of your fingers or the clapping of your hands. Did you ever stop to think that maybe we have other plans? Have you turned me into some kind of drone? Is my mind no longer my own? Are my individual and unique thoughts not allowed to be known? Somehow this hierarchy needs to be overthrown.  We need to let our shining personalities be shown. Celebrate Individualism! Let us express, share and have optimism! And even scepticism! Being ourselves is a basic human right! Thank you and good night!
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 7:25 AM UTC
Who Am I? !#WARNING STRONG LANGUAGE#!
I’ve got my glitter -- It pours down on me, Shiny, black, and splendidly dark. Your glitter is gorgeous -- It trickles down smoothly, Light, pink, and splendidly sparkly. You've got the occasional Black poured down upon you, But it's quickly washed away. Gone, overthrown by your Iconic pastel glitter. Mine is black. It stays black. When I get the occasional Light colored glitter, It simply seems to fall through My black glitter coated fingers, Gone. The light glitter’s gone, and All I've got is black.
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Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 10:28 PM UTC
Glitter
restrictions we seek to follow every word given unto us by the ones who seek a rule relentlessly they go boldly against every system of convention for a simple selfish reason for a greater accomplishment there is no overcoming the odds that stand in a fight against us but time will tell truth and soon light shall be shed on the shade that veils our minds and dystopia will be overthrown boring by boring brick and the ruined shall rise in triumphant waves now we have won the final fight tonight
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 3:17 AM UTC
Restrictions
(Exodus, xvii.15) By whom was David taught To aim the deadly blow, When he Goliath fought, And laid the Gittite low? Nor sword nor spear the stripling took, But chose a pebble from the brook. 'Twas Israel's God and King Who sent him to the fight; Who gave him strength to sling, And skill to aim aright. Ye feeble saints, your strength endures, Because young David's God is yours. Who order'd Gideon forth, To storm the invaders' camp. With arms of little worth, A pitcher and a lamp? The trumpets made his coming known And all the host was overthrown. Oh! I have seen the day, When with a single word, God helping me to say, "My trust is in the Lord," My soul hath quell'd a thousand foes Fearless of all that could oppose. But unbelief, self-will, Self-righteousness, and pride, How often do they steal My weapon from my side! Yet David's Lord, and Gideon's friend, Will help his servant to the end.
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Jehovah-Nissi. The Lord My Banner
They've sold their souls in the midst of humility and super-pervaded occult, they've sacrificed people just to get that fancy car, and that mansion like paradise, and all that glamors on the face of multi-universe, they are living in the era of self-aggrandizement, and more doubtfully contemplate christianity, they moved a step further to promote atheism, the concept of humanistic thought have been overthrown, and decisions made under the philosophy of postmodernity, depictions of reality are mystical and emanate from the dark prisms, their conception of glorification is different from the society's, therefore I'm hateful and watching as the world slowly chokes itself to death.
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
Greedy Disbelievers
Disentangling abstractedy, A bee returning crazily along the path of least resistance Flying home. Through the orchids, flax and irises Lilacs dripping promises, Mist-laced and mapped with honesty He goes home. Morning recriminations Bitter sprinkles in the milk, Stood there; his mind is wandering to apricots and silk Desire twisted hungrily, A door slammed...... home overthrown by silence. Storm clouds horizon kissing Dark thoughts of something missing, ........then nothing more.
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Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 5:06 PM UTC
Abrupt Ending
O CLOUD-PALE eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes, The poets labouring all their days To build a perfect beauty in rhyme Are overthrown by a woman's gaze And by the unlabouring brood of the skies: And therefore my heart will bow, when dew Is dropping sleep, until God burn time, Before the unlabouring stars and you.
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He Tells Of The Perfect Beauty
Three nobles were fleeing after the monarchy had been overthrown Three non-polar amino acids were trying to get away from the polar gel they were on They were escaping through means of a merchant who dealt with the black market He gave priority to those who paid a heftier sum The amino acids were aided by a non-polar liquid solution The more non-polar the amino acid the higher up the solution could get them But alas! For the merchant lacked the resources to get the nobles out of danger The amino acids all eventually reached the top of the gel sheet But they would need extra aid to go over the top And that is my science class
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Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC
From TLC lab to Story Time
I need an outlet for these emotions to spill Their bubbling at the surface, I've had my fill It’s hard keeping this raw energy contained It hurts, lately I've been living life pained. Try to talk them out Don’t have the courage to tell what about Anger, regret, happiness, sad just to name a few Out of my head they spew Paper is the gateway from my thoughts to reality But if anyone should read, would they question my morality? Or reject my personality? Load my pen up with my feelings The words I write are healing's A chance to relieve some pressure Filled up too much to measure To release is such a pleasure To find peace, I search for that treasure But if I leave my mind alone Mind and reason will be overthrown By the fists of thought, hammering at the walls with a desperate tone Seeds of self-destruction I have sewn All chances to stop it, I have blown This is the only way I can survive This solution was the only thing I could contrive Maybe through written words I could thrive If not, my soul would dive Down deep into the bowels of darkness Salvation would truly be hopeless But for now, the abyss will just tease Until I have no more use for writing, my heart will never be at ease Oh this liberating ink
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC
Liberating Ink
Here lies old Hobson, Death hath broke his girt, And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt, Or els the ways being foul, twenty to one, He’s here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. ’Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down; For he had any time this ten yeers full, Dodg’d with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull. And surely, Death could never have prevail’d, Had not his weekly cours of carriage fail’d; But lately finding him so long at home, And thinking now his journeys end was come, And that he had tane up his latest Inne, In the kind office of a Chamberlin Shew’d him his room where he must lodge that night, Pull’d off his Boots, and took away the light: If any ask for him, it shall be sed, Hobson has supt, and ’s newly gon to bed.
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On The University Carrier Who Sickn’d In The Time Of His Vacancy, Being Forbid To Go To London, By Reason Of The Plague
~ Emptiness consumes all thought, always lingers close    Feeling less for a moment, until sound approaches the air ~ Time, reality, everything is now illuminated    Emotions up rise, this feeling is familiar but rare ~ Thrills elude the mind, as beats miraculously appear    Voices, faces and expressions are diluted but near ~ Addicting sounds, overwhelming beats, a beautiful mixture    Everyone enjoying it, through the past and future ~ A confidence boost soon approaches, no matter your mood    Secretive meanings, useless thoughts completely delude ~ Through stressful stages of mine, unique rhythms prevail    Stressful states turn to relaxation, seems nothing can fail ~ Whichever, whoever, times change with the vibes    Wherever, whenever, there are new meanings and rhymes ~ Eras will always persuade us with images    Millions of different break downs, incredible visions ~ Gradual change defines the entire industry    While our individuality remains, holding us freely ~ Your own interests influence what's unknown    While the public worlds interests, influence what's overthrown ~ This reality has its own unique mixture of genres    We'll never know those other realities, they're disguised in armor ~ You yourself understand the rhythms that keep you sane    Let the music speak its mind, and run through your every vein   ~Meagan Williams    1.20.13
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Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 5:47 AM UTC
Every Era Evolves~
bachelorhoodwinked by michael r. burch u are charming & disarming, but mostly ALARMING since all my resolve dissolved! u are chic as a sheikh's harem girl in the sheets but my castle’s no longer my own and my kingdom is overthrown! Originally published by Brief Poems. Keywords/Tags: bachelorhood, bachelor, engagement, marriage, resolve, dissolved, hoodwinked, helpless, vulnerable, smitten, bewitched, charm, charmed, spellbound, love potion
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Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 8:45 PM UTC
bachelorhoodwinked
another sleepless night 4am comes strolling around i toss in turn bundled in the sheets how does one sleep with a mind that races like engine. thoughts go dashing through without hesitance. thoughts that break apart every aspect of me. constantly i am reminded of what i am not, what i could be, what i will never be, and all that is wrong with me. i cannot stop the whirling inside my mind. i sit up, i think positive but the negativity falls down on me like a heaviest thunderstorm my thoughts, my feelings break me down my insides come tumbling day in day out. i cannot put the sadness into words, it takes a hold of me, pulls me under its vicious waves, i come crashing down. it drowns me until nothing is left, it tortures me until i am rotten to my core. the sadness never leaves for long, its with in my roots. the sadness fills my mind my head becomes a violent dust storm gusts of thoughts whirring from every direction. i am overwhelmed by my own feelings, I am overthrown by the sadness in my soul. I pull apart every little thing, letting the smallest things get to me. insecurities get the best of me, sad thoughts consume me. happiness abandons me, it never lasts. i don't recall the last time i was genuinely happy. sadness is all i know. the sadness rips me apart and peels my every layer until it makes its way into my walls cemented inside of me forever
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Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 7:40 PM UTC
the sadness
Down I go Dying slow; no carpet rides Beneath the blue below Precious diamonds; pressure only grinds my bones          That which dwells in these depths,          Must be overthrown          Like the stone, dragging me deeper          Into this black cold All my sunken attempts Dress the sand in swords For all the fallen warriors slain By the dueling voices inside my brain         Chained to pillars in this endless ocean         Composure erodes like weathered boulders         Yet, I stand staunch against the breaking waves         For what is outside myself, I have no mind to claim
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Jul 27, 2021
Jul 27, 2021 at 6:06 PM UTC
Our World Within
The cloud, A formless palace in the sky, Drifts by in the haze of this fleeting dreamworld: Out the window that keeps me separate From the freedom of its emptiness As if to enter it's glittering void of star and city light Would immediately dissolve it into its own abyss... Consecrated by this boundary This metal bubble drifts through This most intangible of kingdoms: Empire for the passing bird Who never stop here To make their home But ride along the fallow winds That blow in this world of transition. How I long To join the darkened skies, And drift among the passing clouds: To live forever in the flux and flow Of the homelessness of empty space. But I am not asleep tonight As dreams fly me outside this shell Made of flight and metal hollow To the wind's cry in my new domain. But ground draws me towards its wake For dreams that flew me from its grasp As my world falls from me like a stone And from this, My kingdom I stand overthrown.
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Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 6:54 PM UTC
The Landing