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ALamar Mar 2014
Im over it
Stop trying to cover it
Just admit
You're a no good
Lying
*******
I salute my sublimation.
tackle my monsters
with pen and paper,
Die in my art, you beasts.

all my characters are myself.
different shades
textures of my complexity
a palette of my entity

Im the protaganist
the underdog
idealistic dreamer
with a happy ending

I'm the antagonist
the enemy
cynical pessimist
with doom impending.

I scrape down on paper
these pages of me.

Sublimating aching
intermission from tragedy.
first poem in a while, really did feel the need to get some words out.
I really hope you guys like it :)
Ryan Seth Cole Jul 2021
The sun rises over the hills touching everything turning it gold. The dew rises from the cactus as the scorpion rises from it's slumber; surely a sight to behold.

Β Β Another day has begun another story is yet to be told. For it has been written so many times it has became a story of old. But today is no different. It is the day the world was sold.

Our protaganist a young man is not carried by the plot. He is not conflicted by his emotions. He needs no changing of his thought. He instead drives the story forward with the unraveling of his soul.

He finds himself pitted between himself and the world. Like a tree that is battered by the wind refusing to fold. He is no ordinary man, he himself has a well defined goal.

Although his expection is not certain he has yet be told that the road ahead is trecherous; it is filled with opstacles and it has many holes.

His plan is to stand his ground and by no amount of money can this man be sold.

If you find this man to be unwilling to change, there is something you must know; this man has been here before.
This man has seen with his eyes just how the story goes.

His countrymen are in turmoil held captive by the idea that a tyrant would have complete power or complete control.

They suffer from hunger for lack of rations. They trust not one another for fear that they may delivered over to the one that is in control. They our desperate for a hero

But little do they know that one of them would spark a fire that would trigger a movement that no authority on earth could slow.

Rumors of his valor would spread across the land. Surely this is he that would take the stand. All to soon would the time be that a man would rise to power. That there would be a new king in the land. One who could break the powers and fairly distrabute the wealth by the turning of his hand.

The people were filled with hope while the weak could barely stand.

His movement grew in numbers his trust would cascade in the enemies betrayal amongst themselves. Even the powerful tyrant's minions would show support for this man.

The moment was here so fast as if it were controlled opposition. Now it was time for the peoples voice to be heard. It was time they take a position.

Put they're trust in man or support the opposition.

As you would guess the choice was all so easy, so many would say. Little did they know that would be when they gave what little they had left away.

Plunged into chaos for the people had been betrayed. This man was not they're hero. He was the embodiement of they're willingness to give it all away.

-RSC
A simple parable of trusting others to do what you must find in yourself to do.
Sometimes the beta has no choice but to be the alpha.
wordvango Jul 2015
blindly pass me by or take offense calmly
don't be jealous of splendor,
or raise a finger
to be different, just feel,
as I do ...
why I write words...
keen a sense of tomorrows sunrises
envelop a glimpse of yesterday's sunsets.
Feel every ****** ever spent to keep this earth full
I feel yours, I feel the smallest organism spasms,
as they seek life hear
footsteps telling the small snail his time is
limited or the elephant
chase the Genetic protaganist away.
How do I say, how?
I love everything.

— The End —