"ramifications" poems
*Transient happiness
Drought in our heart
Emotionless
Passionless
Love’s an oasis
We are
Weary travelers
Unaware of
The ramifications
Of unloved Earth
Nature’s revolt
Will encage us
Within our faults
Overzealous we are
Perilous future
Awaits us*
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
This is for the father that does not consider to be a whole in his creations life.
This is for the mother who chooses to 'opt out' of being a giver of love to the fruit of her womb.
This is for the one who has chosen to be an absent parent..
This is for you...
WAKE. the. **** UP!!
What are you doing?
What is wrong with you?
It seems to me you may not fully understand the ramifications that your chosen absence will play in the life of your child.
So I will spell it out it for you..
Your child, your gift, your delight, the one who was created from your very own dna, the one that you willingly gave life to and brought into this world...
will remember everything you have not done.
And they will carry this as a load upon their back for quite possibly most of their life.
Each will carry it differently, but carry the load they will. Some will carry it with forgiveness, some will carry with resolve, some will carry with the added weight of a heavy heart. Some will carry defiantly and will never truly forgive.
And no matter how they position the weight you give, by choosing to be absent, they will still carry that load...
because of you.
And you will continue to add weight to that load every day you choose to be absent from their life.
Each missed opportunity will be a pound of disappointment that your child will carry... for you.
Each broken promise will be a pebble.
Each late appointment will be a handful of sand.
Each missed birthday will be a tablespoon of gravel
to fill their pockets.
And every achievement they experience, that you have missed, will weigh upon their mind and their heart.
And because of this, throughout their life,
they will continually try to win your love.
You hear that...??
They will try. and. win. your. love...
Because... it is not given freely...
so they will try to win it.!!!
because, bottom line...
let's face it...
you're a selfish ****
And because of your self centered behaviour, everything that they need, want and have to experience without you will be tainted with your chosen absence.
Every tear and heart break, every grazed knee, bad dream, smile, whisper, secret, colouring on the fridge door, every clay model, every needed word of advice, comfort, support and encouragement, every exam result, every moment of despair, loss, grief and first love...
each and every lost opportunity to say 'i miss you'
each and every unuttered 'i love you'
will be carefully, silently and invisibly weighed,
measured
and carried.
And i promise you this..
the weight you have placed upon them will be keenly felt
when it is their time to fly.
This is not to say they will not fly, because they will,
and beautifully so..
And with wings that you did not help to fashion.
And, because of your chosen absence, your creation, your child, your very own delight will always carry the weight that you have placed upon them.
And the weight of your absence is so much heavier than you could possibly imagine.
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC
As I contemplated the project of writing a persuasive essay I discovered that I would have to have a topic upon which to practice my persuasive techniques . After much cogitation and enumeration of my possibilities , pursued with such zeal that it soon resembled pedantic ostentation , I concluded that the most positive prospect I could pursue in this endeavor would be an attempt to prove irrefutably that I deserve a grade of A in this class ; if not for the undeniable excellence of my effort , then at least for the unadulterated audacity of my pretentious assertion .
In order to perform this feat first I must overwhelm your developing consternation , the frozen mastodon of your auspicious judition . To accomplish this I will cite my impeccable attendance ; which although not perfect was indeed a valiant effort in the face of public opinion whose abstinence approached epidemic proportions . I will expound on the effectual and pervasive inspirations of my in class commentary , which sparked many a heated argument or thoughtful conjecture ; and comment on the polished precision of my in class narration . I will reiterate the diversity and intrigue of my subject matter and the competence of my delivery .
Next , with all the dynamic aggression of a wind-up tyrannosaur , I will recapitulate and exemplify my arguments ; until the ramifications of my inductive collusions exceed the boundaries of your psychic phenomenon and you are forced to acquiesce into impunity .
Yes I will indeed proceed to exceed the parameters of your mind , until mesmerized by the multitudes of analogous content you find yourself , disguised as captain corpuscle , floating euphorically down stream in a think box mind gram dingy towards a sea of Colorado cool aid . Then as if all that were not enough to thoroughly torque your ringer , adamant and tenacious I will portray realms of intellectual austerity so intriguing you will be raised to new heights of enigmatism , and then I will leave you , enraptured with your own anonymity , at the edge of the new world freeway .
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
There are things unseen that keep this world living.. Things that go without notice.. Things that we make sure go unnoticed.. So the everyday things you see as everyday things simply are not that at all.. Everyday messengers and receivers are at a constant movement of life giving moments.. The bird you saw fly by, The cat that leaves and never returns, The butterflies that migrate south, And the ghost that sometimes haunt the living.. But when the path is interrupted the unknown ramifications occur.. The disasters, the catastrophes, the plagues, can all be prevented.. On this day two children, two brothers, will set forth a path that is unknown to them.. On a plastic bottle cap they put one large red ant on board.. They float it down the creek and watch in awe at the sailor ant they have set in motion.. This ant has a very small package to deliver.. Across a world to him, at the end of the river to us.. This ant will deliver a small speck of light.. The first star in an infinite darkness..
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
the commander in chief
has a propensity
to use all kinds
of weaponry
his Nobel Peace Prize
is looking rather tainted
as he is a man
who so likes war pictures to be painted
he's stated he'll make a limited strike
on Syrian soil
but why would a so called man of peace
need to become embroiled
is he propping the Military Industrial Complex up
those poor arms traders who require billions
for their impoverished cups
he might yet be making a miscalculation
as to where his fires a missile
for it may be greeted
with not such a friendly smile
the Middle East is a place
where some moderation is sorely needed
there are others who have a divergent view
to the commander in chief
they may take it upon themselves
to act in a certain way
which shall lead to some
very grey days
an explosive situation
is on the horizon
and the ramifications
are too dire
to contemplate
may the commander in chief
not press to the brink
for it may mean
peace on the planet is bound to sink
he must take a level headed approach
to any military activity
as it will mean
that harmonic relations
are in a state of permanent injury
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 1:50 AM UTC
Fog Happens
Yup. Not profound, even Jung, Kant and Freud,
wouldn’t deny their eyes, would no doubt disagree
with symbolic, philosophical implications, and the
head banging ramifications for the immediacy of
the spiritual impact while driving in this grey ****
Fog differs every time, and on an island, that’s for
**** sure. Today’s incarnation, the fog comes over
the water, but respects the man-made, timbered,
bulkhead, so the yard, with its circus of ravens, crows,
and other invisible birds, insects, rabbits, is visible,
but absent the inhabitants who are smarter-than-humans,
they remain aboded thinking, only stupid humans believe
they can navigate and forage, in a fog penetrating in air
that is 97% humidity and 100% peas soup thick skinned.
The time? Of course.
It’s 7:36 AM on the East Coast, and beyond the lawn lies a brackish bay that will lead you to the Atlantic and north to the Titanic, direction Newfoundland. Not enough info to geo tag me, but those who know me, knowledgeable in my early mornings scribblings, know my whereabouts, my telephone number. Do you?
Fog Happens to everyone and at random intervals, Nope. Not thinking of the brain clouds of ordinary Lethologica and Lethonomia. (Sunday lazy so just look it up and say out loud, gotta remember them words and laugh out loud cause you ain’t gotta a prayer.)
Fog Happens
in the heart, spreading north to the consciousness, and the lethargy of movement impeded by the lighthouse bells tolling “danger is about,” our light stolen, but you need to know, you’re perilously close to danger. Any action taken when heart-fogged can have awful consequences so stick close to bed, yank out your tablet, write a poem, listen to sad love songs on that Pandora Station, or send GIPHYs and emojis to your six year old granddaughter who is 108 miles to the west of where you both hide beneath coverlets, and laugh out loud with her like the bells chiming outside, and that helps move that heart~fog hanging low, out to sea.
YUP.
Fog Happens
Fog Passes
Jun 25, 2023
Jun 25, 2023 at 8:00 AM UTC
Holding on to whatever
is not worthy or needed
is terribly frustrating,
a waist of time and lives.
Letting go of the
unnecessary and unbefitting
is the only ultimate proper
response to lack of result.
Whatsoever that is beautiful,
and acceptable to the heart,
the mind has to admit
and adjust to all its ramifications.
Healing comes after turmoil
and chaos that ravages the body
and mind.
Our mood recovers from the shock
and pressures of the world outside.
Nothing can be more devastating
than the mere ignorance of ongoing
deception choking the life out
of the people.
Taken by the horns,
this beast of burden has to go down.
The fire is rekindled within
and ignited by the unknown forces of
the divine light burning in the heart to
cleanse our impurities of the body and mind,
refreshed by the spirit with sublime light.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC
Rules disintegrate between midnight and when dusk hits horizon
Ask someone, anyone, to run away with you. I dare you. See if they’ll say no
Shrouded with the gentle miasma of sleep just out of reach, a half-step towards the unknown doesn’t seem so risky
Only when the sky is swathed in dull orange does logic start to kick in, 70 miles from home with nothing but a broken compass and a fond companion
Spit bitter regrets at a nameless former lover
The one who scoured every inch of your body and eagerly delved in every crevice of your fragile heart before you even knew the true definition of naiveté
Naiveté: (noun) the scared, nostalgic hands that innocently cling to a forgotten yesterday while prodding us towards the blind plunge of tomorrow
Declare love to that unrequited forbidden fruit
Sleepy vulnerability cracks away at the protective walls we build
Besides, what could the ramifications possibly be when come morning, faintness of memory won’t be able to distinguish fantasy from reality?
So seize the opportunity; be horribly candid and nakedly honest
Feel the transience of the night and relish the fleeting moments that rest between your fingertips.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 6:36 PM UTC
A good place to start would be an introspective analysis of self, but what of the ramifications of objectified manifest? If evil is incarnate then what is the nature of corporeally preternatural? Can we save each other from the truisms of self we all embody, or do we all wallow in the pandemic phatic of our own fatidic as we seek augur's tout. My imagination tells me I can create a personification that has mystical properties but can this be functional garb or is it basically illusion. Can we touch each other, or even ourselves with these extrapolations? So many of us live by this platonic proxy photic aimed humanitarian instinct, maybe the reason we don't seem to succeed is because we need to be bad to be good. Further some of us are so bad that we obviously don't deserve to live but are those of us so inclined doomed to die of the ramifications thereof? And will this malady be a contagious virulence for all? Were it not for the astonishingly astounding and incredible nature of life itself I would almost be forced to abjure the nature of metaphysics on a corporeal level. Fortunately for me the answer is much more simple, I need someone to make love to, or **** if you will. I believe in retrospect this is obviously clear! Forgive my blither.
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 10:06 AM UTC
I feel like God hates me
Or stopped caring
Ceased to provide
Left for good
And now I'm left here to straighten myself out for better or for worse
I've met people who feel the same way
Who surprisingly have the pincushion audacity to put all the blame of their misfortunes in the absence of the omnipotent one
I just feel abandoned they feel betrayed
Maybe he makes a chump change commission on every life he guides to a certain point then leaves them stark naked at the haunting hour
I know all the preachers and secular teachers lie through their teeth
They win the merit-less hoax award by a landslide
They have no consideration of for the people they mislead or the ramifications their poisoned sermons causes
They use emotionally charged language to increase the parish's numbers
They're terrified of God, they live in fear
And see carpal tunnel as a punishment for ************ and wish blindness upon all those who partake
There is shared consensual hiraeth between those who have been through an invasion of privacy and the trespassing of private property
They want their rights and their guns back
They want their personal space
They retreat to their happy place
Let's go back to the Pantheon of lactose intolerant divine idols
Of epileptic godheads
Who's line of work is about incubated pie pans
Can you make a tutorial that summarizes the resounding reduction of options using nothing but euphemisms?
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
A box junction,dysfunctional miscommunication,down by the station in one more of its type,a shattered crack pipe and a broken down motormouth man,spanning the distance between here,over there,swiping the air,pissing his pants,ranting at rainbows,begging from strangers,
he's just another of the night time ghost rangers,a shadow that falls off imagination and walled off behind solidified dried up and **** out hot dreams that appeared to be real,in the stealing of childhood in the big world bad wild hood,where the good don't die young but are used as the fate bait for just wait and see state, you get in,when you stick the pins in your veins,bleed drain fluid cleaner, how keen are you now?
How the mighty have risen to be crushed,cast aside on the mad ride to stardom in the Kingdoms of blinged up and blind men,
dazzle me, quick me,me brain's oh so sick me,
and sometimes I wonder
and sometimes I don't.
I won't make apologies to pygmy type minds who only find it within them to carp,criticise,and as I prise up the mountains to catch moles for my dinner,I ask of my god,just who is this winner that's wrote of on totems?
Poles apart
we start in the middle,fiddle the figures which figures not in the outcome and I come out fighting,
delightful in madness where the sad can't attack me,where the strait jacketed banality of life is finally flushed,where I'm not rushed in decisions,make insightful incisions with obscure ramifications and cut anyway,cut everything away and cast off.
A bit like knitting
but not with wool.
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 7:27 PM UTC
The darkened corners of forgotten yesterdays clouded the view as the gaping maw of need stared across the chasm at necessity . Almost as if there was a reason for it’s contiguous constituency it reflected the myriad animations of it’s creator . Crystalline forms in infinite diversity beyond the subjective sublimations of mass crowded the integral forms of it’s subjugated spontaneities perversions as the well of it’s unity sang of the cause for it’s being .
The single-mindedness of it’s recumbent beginnings were all but lost to the ramifications of itself as the children of it’s repulsion waxed and waned .
The twinkling of an eye , the integration of ages , countless extrapolations of it’s *********** vanished into the nature of their being as the tainted refuse of their wanton progressions began their mutual processions back to the source , or wandered through the surrealistic ethereum of their eternally predestined nothingness .
Causalities purity reigned as all became the reason for it’s own creation , and vanished into the implosion of it’s own ***********
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
All this lifeless air created from migrated diverted array
Shot from wasted uneventful deep rooted motionless fatigue
Squeezed beneath a realm of misguided beliefs
Things mixed and shattered, confused mistaken repeats
Dug from a soul that never eats
All this lifeless air was created by total dismay
From thoughts that creep without light often in the calmest state
Shaking the essence of what purgatory seeks to infiltrate
With masks that always intolerably penetrate
The gateway to a subtle overactive mind grenade
It hits like a brick, it comes out of nowhere
Breathtakingly taking you into its mystical embrace
To another space in a place where nothing feels the same
Only discombobulation and facades of an erratic charade
Leaving your thoughts confused and in an melancholic state
Calmness in your spirit is a lantern burned from the light inside you
It seeps from your pours and glows intensely within your core
Unmasking horrific ramifications that you justified in the past
Leaving your mind free to disseminate thoughts that usually trespass
Recognizing feelings can be often obsolete
The lurking and self loathing of being stuck in between
a domain of migrated air and empathetic domains
Dragging your lifeless air into migrated array
Only erratic melancholy conceives and births total dismay
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
Our world is slowly dying away
The past has been left in the grey
We, who lived, in ancient times
We are those left behind
Standing in ruins wanting revenge
Soon our time will come
And the rules of the world become unhinged
We’re from a kingdom so noble
Of gods and dragons
All bowed before the king, so humble
But now those days are long gone
Anger festering inside our bones
Our resolve will never wane
In time we will reclaim
Gather up the armies of the old world
We will march
Upon the world of men for pain untold
Days long past of ancient honor
Where is it now?
For our kind, all I see is horror
Our time is close to stand as a noble
Ramifications of this will be global
At last you will know and trust
Mankind will bow before us
The old world shall become new
If we all unite
The grey skies will become blue
It’s our chance to bring man down
Down to their level
And then a new king will be crowned
Assemble the crown and dust the throne
Finally build ourselves a new home
Bond the tribes and entrust the ******
Time to put us beasts before man
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 8:22 PM UTC
Considering some pages I've covered, quite immersed I can be in nonsense.
Nonsense, immaterial..
Nonsense, derailed..
Nonsense, abnormal..
Nonsense, beauty..
Nonsense, imperfection..
Nonsense, is doglike..
Doglike is godlike... Yeah, thought crime, alot of things considered too sacred to ponder.. that's the program, the matrix.. But with poetry, THOUGHT CRIME is godly.
Thought crime.. is
the universal law of creation.
the wonders of the world are born.
Civilization is born.
Solutions are discovered.
Guilty and escape or innocent and bound. Your choice.
DOG.
Dog is uncleanness yet godlike in all ramifications.
Jealousy.
Longing..
Pure..
Loving..
Ever accommodating..
Protective..
Peaceful..
Violent..
Kind..
But most important it's ever forgiven and never complaining..
It's the friend I crawl back to after given up myself to the sharp edges of sins,
as others fled seeing me down with bruises, it cleans my sores without disdain and accompanies me.
Can you be with a
MAD man. He asked.?
Mad
Not in violence,
MAD in words..
MAD in poetry..
Oh mad,
Have he just unlocked the portal..?
Making a difference with words is the "IKIGAI".
Orders might follow suit,
Breakdown one..
Two in the process..
Immersed in nonsense finding it hard to discover myself in the sense..
The MAD lines..
First timer in the MAD lines, old-timer in the LOVE and SORROW lines..
MAD lines are..
Sensitive...
Creative.
Adaptive.
In-Sanity..
Unsensored..
Derailing..
Dark humor..
Lies...
Liers can't make heaven they say,
But even when he lies he made it to heaven...
Why lit candles while going to the source of light, little ounce...
Are u trying to compare your Shadow with God's?
Shadow..
An object coming between a ray of light and a surface.
The twist is in the rays of light and the surface, which do you belong..?
Don't understand?
You are not meant to, just flow along the lines..
Until you get to the end of the rope just then a glimpse of light might appear, Hold on to the rope..
Hold...
The breathe.
The courage.
The life..
Yeah, hold, hold on to these lines Coz you might miss them someday..
Jul 12, 2023
Jul 12, 2023 at 11:22 AM UTC
*Fairytale Evolutions,
Terminating Digital Mutations,
Simulated Sensations,
Transcendent Revolutions,
Hybrid Generations,
Altering Stagnant Amplifications,
Shape Shifting Constellations,
Sterilizing Implications,
Eliciting Blissful Animations,
Decoding Kaleidoscopic Flirtations,
Fabricating Holographic Dimensions,
Reflecting Labyrinth Ramifications,
Transgressional Diversifications,
Empathetic Extortion,
Serene Distortion,
Subversive Contortion,
Forging Conceptual Inoculations
Violating Illusionary Variations,
Incarnating Prototype Deviations,
Radiating Subtle Speculations,
Catalyzing Crystallized Civilizations.
-01:09AM*
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 2:57 PM UTC
I'm so broken by this gory sight.
Children smashed on the wall by adults,
who I'm sure are also fathers of children,
all because of religious sentiments.
Is it related to religious and ethnic cleansing,
I cannot say and do not know exactly,
but whichever one it is,
it is actually not allowed and,
you have no moral justification to **** a child
or anyone at all for the sake of religion.
Whatever reason any religion
have in order to **** so I can be
converted into believing in your God is totally
and completely out of place.
So wrong in all its ramifications.
There's no law or reason for you to be
forceful in winning my love for your God.
You messed with my faith which is my strength.
You took away my dignity and my pride,
my culture,my tradition and my language.
My whole life fizzled out because of you,
I can't remember my past
because you changed my name.
Your religion becomes my pain,
and not my passion.
Forced to be a follower not of my will.
That is not who I was but who you
want me to become not of my choice.
You want to take my history,my identity
and my humanity with violence.
Let me hasten to tell you something
you probably don't know,
as long as God is on the throne,
that will never happen.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 10:43 AM UTC
One of the most frustrating things about being human is the answers are so obvious even a child could understand. Can the ramifications of self be a controlled sequence or are we left with naught but chicanery's dynamisms on the fealty. It's like the depths of pervasion as opposed to the heights of possibility when everybody knows it's an oblong sideways.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
Lofty aspirations
built on crumbling foundations
caused by faulty medications
filled with combinations
of complications
and expectations
from other generations
and fluctuations
of explanations
ignoring the implications
and frustrations
hallucinations and
interpretations
and the misrepresentations
of the ramifications
of your demonstrations
just to feel the sensations
the vibrations
of knowing you have no limitations
life is vacations
mixed with contemplations
of temptations
and on occasion
imagination
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 4:53 AM UTC
It was a wild alto-wielding sax man, screeching with halted notes and dissonant disregard for the folks and their fortune that awoke the birds, and the unyielding flock would mask the sky as two lovers kiss on a bench with flaking paint. The shores are prevailing, the yoking eggs would seep through cracks in the counter while children squeal and leave stains on the walls. Walking through forsaken habitats and dingy rats are bastardising the progression of time and in turn, they confuse a poet as he composes the castigated texts of his forlorn memories.
It was here that piano keys shook the core of the Earth with trembling recompense, and furthermore would eventually seek to unify the tribes of long suffering lands into the rambling herd that stampede through river basins, with alphabets falling from their back pockets. Ah black sky, with your inherent displeasure and disquiet, why are you crying on me tonight? The stars are as despairing as I.
I take your hand and lead you through green-light flickering corridors, as the rats are congregating and confusing us once more. Water drops overhead and we fall into chasms of disparity, holding onto piping that scolds our waning fingers, leaving us foreboding and dumb. Numb to the illicit sirens and the implications of urban living. And your body is sullen, as the Antelope are liberated, but with woe I could feel the icy chill that radiates from you and your once heated body.
Tire tracks, hurried, and the rats find no suspect, so with wringing hands I step into the sunlight and feel the blue sky ramifications and remember your name.
Gravel track buried, the flocks would return to nest in romantic trees, and I find myself alone as the sun rescinds its gaze, placing me in darkness once more.
And the alto-man continues to sing through tubular declaration, as the steadily raging war provides rhythm to the desolate streets and I feel disconnected.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 12:51 PM UTC
I have been playing with
The concept of morality
In my head for a while;
The guidelines in which we base
All of our actions can be properly
Placed into one of two categories.
Good and Evil.
Is the course of action ahead
For the betterment of myself
Or my society?
How does one even begin to understand
The ramifications of their decisions
And their affect on human history.
What if enlightenment is only
Another word for loneliness?
What if becoming one with your
True self is really just isolation
To an idea that we can transcend
Into something better but:
Let me remind you that evil did not exist before we did.
Even in light of current events,
We know that within each of us
Is a light that is never extinguished.
I know the times ahead may seem tough.
For my generation specifically
Because we are only now finding
Which paths to take.
We may have created evil,
But we don't have to nurture it.
We can become the balance
And remind each other that isolation
Isn't an answer.
Especially in our own selves.
I hope you take this to heart.
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 3:49 AM UTC
I had a dream last night
About the outcome that
Could have been.
I saw the wonder and
Sheer beauty
That we ruined with sin.
Now bound to sadness
Forever.
Unable to rid myself of
Despair.
Longing for the truth
And meaning of life
We had the opportunity
To share.
Never ending sorrow.
A wound unable to heal.
Punished for eternity.
Happiness forbade to feel.
Deserving of such ramifications.
Punishment won't relieve this crime.
Forever lost in a sea of madness.
Will you forgive me when it's time?
I saw the face of a little girl.
A dream that felt so alive.
I saw the vanishing of
A dream come true.
The possibilities I've deprived.
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 2:39 PM UTC
I have come to a corner of the universe where the balance has shifted insanely toward the light. Its like being inside a star. There is no darkness whatsoever. Darkness has no place here. There is a being here that is emitting this near infinite light. At the center of this galaxy sized mass of light he shines and burns away darkness. My armor begins to absorb this near infinite light. My power levels reach a level beyond thought. I want to be part of this light. Vanquish all darkness. I close my eyes and feel the light course through my soul and aura. This light however is not pure. It is made out of love, revenge, and hate. Its intentions are good. But the ramifications could be catastrophic. It wants to rid the universe of all darkness. Everything would become illuminated. We would lose the night. We would lose our shadows. There would be nothing but light as we would become a part of it and then one in and of itself. Simply stated it would be the end. I must stop him. This being of light. S-DIVERS
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 12:39 PM UTC