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"revelled" poems
Together they were the perfect team. She was tired of perfection long before she met him. Constantly having to put up a successful front was exhausting, but her barrier of bravado was faltering. It's hard to find imperfections in an idyllic world. He didn't want to live in the life of his reputation anymore. The tornado that his life had become was beginning to ruin him and he wanted nothing more to find some quiet. It's hard to find solace in the storm. No longer did she want to create masterpieces; she wanted to wreak havoc. She had a taste of the life she wanted, but once you take the first few steps on the path of self-destruction, you cannot turn back. The whisper in the wind becomes seductive. Like a drug, she needed it. She made a U-turn, a complete diversion from the road that had been paved for her. She felt a rush from the change of direction, and fell in love with it. He was her change of direction. It's hard to find fault in someone that provides the mess you've been searching for. He wanted nothing more than some peace in his whirlwind of a life; maybe that's why he gravitated towards her. She gave him the comfort that he had desired for years. She made him feel as if the rollercoaster, designed as a downwards spiral, that he has been riding since birth was starting to calm down. She became the sense of calm in his brutal life. It's impossible to reject something you have been seeking for years. Together they were unstoppable. She lost herself in his chaos and she took it on herself. She was an angel who lost her way, blinded by desire for imperfection and love for a boy that finally made her feel again. He was a hurricane that found the solace in her that he has wanted for what felt like an eternity. He revelled in the peace she brought to his life and he loved her more than he could articulate. She found her demon; she became a fallen angel, the devil reincarnate that took the chaos out of his life and put it into hers. He found his angel; he became a quiet rainfall that gave his tornado to the girl that craved the destruction it created. Together they were the perfect team.
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Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 3:42 PM UTC
"She was an angel craving chaos, he was a demon seeking peace"
Together they were the perfect team. She was tired of perfection long before she met him. Constantly having to put up a successful front was exhausting, but her barrier of bravado was faltering. It's hard to find imperfections in an idyllic world. He didn't want to live in the life of his reputation anymore. The tornado that his life had become was beginning to ruin him and he wanted nothing more to find some quiet. It's hard to find solace in the storm. No longer did she want to create masterpieces; she wanted to wreak havoc. She had a taste of the life she wanted, but once you take the first few steps on the path of self-destruction, you cannot turn back. The whisper in the wind becomes seductive. Like a drug, she needed it. She made a U-turn, a complete diversion from the road that had been paved for her. She felt a rush from the change of direction, and fell in love with it. He was her change of direction. It's hard to find fault in someone that provides the mess you've been searching for. He wanted nothing more than some peace in his whirlwind of a life; maybe that's why he gravitated towards her. She gave him the comfort that he had desired for years. She made him feel as if the rollercoaster, designed as a downwards spiral, that he has been riding since birth was starting to calm down. She became the sense of calm in his brutal life. It's impossible to reject something you have been seeking for years. Together they were unstoppable. She lost herself in his chaos and she took it on herself. She was an angel who lost her way, blinded by desire for imperfection and love for a boy that finally made her feel again. He was a hurricane that found the solace in her that he has wanted for what felt like an eternity. He revelled in the peace she brought to his life and he loved her more than he could articulate. She found her demon; she became a fallen angel, the devil reincarnate that took the chaos out of his life and put it into hers. He found his angel; he became a quiet rainfall that gave his tornado to the girl that craved the destruction it created. Together they were the perfect team.
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13
*This Morning The Golden Sun Rose With a Midas touch Smiled at the Skies In Scintillating Colours Bedewed the Atmosphere In a Lush Orange Squash A Rush of Pomegranate Reds A Spread of Fiery hot Saffron Threads Far Away Billowed The Feathery White Pristine Kashmir Clouds The Mirthful birds On the wire , Chirped A Mesmerised me , Revelled In the Early Morning Bliss Nature Imbues Taking away the Sky's Blues*
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Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 7:45 AM UTC
A Beautiful SunRise
I knew the orange on the orange tree you had an ache in your shoulders uncomfortable in an unnatural way yesterday I passed you talking to flowers you hadn't moved you hadn't strayed but hiding in the leaves was a forced disguise the omens told me something quiet and unceasing reminding me of a slumbering domesticated cat dreaming of cutting yourself loose from truncated ease dropping down from the branch with panther steps licking fruit lips ripe with revealed acidic petals riddled with a past you revelled mixing in with zest shocking chances stepped in for the next dance sleep taken aback by wings cut from a dark sky the sidewalk pitted and cracked beneath the pounce relief escaped the twigs with a spring like waking prey pressing into night foliage shaken from a nice balance as I saw you take control with nothing to mask your face on the surface too smooth for violence was laughter of glowing gloom to embarrass and deter such rebellious arrogance with a twist struggling from a lame curse its flavours sharp against your sweetened perfume muscle expecting you to build a limestone shed for tears rather than take on the night with a mind to wrestle the outside aches for your physical attraction gaining courage from the purpose in your eyes tense as the tightness of your dress' intention demanding that my hands draw from such lines the sinuous heat of pulsing flesh's invitation curved upon seeds not chaste but not quite refined which I try not loving with some cool disambiguation you left me the taste of syrup of grenadine too reputable to ripple vain red tipple eyed on a table spilt with pink gin and mandarin sharp teeth tingling a tartness into my hand sliding slowly at a tilt like drops of sweat on skin focus dwindling into the clasp of an escaping shade wrapped carefully under soft rice paper and then tucked under a heel with a pointed kick like a blade only to feel you relent and burst open soft in appeal again and again
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
Orange Drops
I knew the orange on the orange tree you had an ache in your shoulders uncomfortable in an unnatural way yesterday I passed you talking to flowers you hadn't moved you hadn't strayed but hiding in the leaves was a forced disguise the omens told me something quiet and unceasing reminding me of a slumbering domesticated cat dreaming of cutting yourself loose from truncated ease dropping down from the branch with panther steps licking fruit lips ripe with revealed acidic petals riddled with a past you revelled mixing in with zest shocking chances stepped in for the next dance sleep taken aback by wings cut from a dark sky the sidewalk pitted and cracked beneath the pounce relief escaped the twigs with a spring like waking prey pressing into night foliage shaken from a nice balance as I saw you take control with nothing to mask your face on the surface too smooth for violence was laughter of glowing gloom to embarrass and deter such rebellious arrogance with a twist struggling from a lame curse its flavours sharp against your sweetened perfume muscle expecting you to build a limestone shed for tears rather than take on the night with a mind to wrestle the outside aches for your physical attraction gaining courage from the purpose in your eyes tense as the tightness of your dress' intention demanding that my hands draw from such lines the sinuous heat of pulsing flesh's invitation curved upon seeds not chaste but not quite refined which I try not loving with some cool disambiguation you left me the taste of syrup of grenadine too reputable to ripple vain red tipple eyed on a table spilt with pink gin and mandarin sharp teeth tingling a tartness into my hand sliding slowly at a tilt like drops of sweat on skin focus dwindling into the clasp of an escaping shade wrapped carefully under soft rice paper and then tucked under a heel with a pointed kick like a blade only to feel you relent and burst open soft in appeal again and again
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42
He tittered and cackled At the refugee plight, Revelled in innocents Running for life. Spends his eternity Stoking flames, Mixing ashes Through worldly pains. Each closing border A fire's refrain. Then humanity stood up, Spoke up, rose up To feed and clothe The homeless hordes: Lucifer wept Over our good world.
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Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 10:00 AM UTC
Lucifer Wept
The escapism formed on her lips as self-destruction, And oh the bliss she revelled in it, Her world crashed and her world burnt, And oh the smoke she revelled in it. Two faced, Single minded, Gemini. The purpose was her hips and that indiscretion, And her kiss oh she revelled in it, Her world crashed down whilst her suitors learnt, That injustice oh she revelled in it. Two minded, Sweet faced, Gemini
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Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 12:21 PM UTC
Two faced and two Minded ( two poems joined together)
When I saw my bones Protrude From the knots of my back Like the ridges of a dinosaur Sapped of food, singed with Stress A childish distress Fear darkness Blankness Terrifying emptiness When I saw my back protrude like the Ridges of a dinosaur I saw my body dressed as the Skeleton I will one day become I saw a vessel controlling a brain I felt like a bottle of tequila drained Such fun until it's empty Used to the tip of uselessness When I saw my back protrude like dinosaur ridges, a skeleton **** The most terrifying thing I felt when I saw my back protrude, like the dinosaurs I coveted when I was small, The rudest thing I felt was Satisfaction With it all I felt more beautiful than I ever had Maybe Ever will Felt satisfied at the neatened carelessness I Had almost used to **** myself Satisfaction That my body curved in Only bones, no fat or muscle to Hide the struts within Revelled in the hunger in the pit of Stomach because no one Could control that but Me You can't fail at starvation I loved it For once I couldn't fail When I saw my back protrude like a dinosaur I knew I could never go there again Because the living dead feel only Hunger Chest pains And fatigue And dinosaurs ate whenever the **** they wanted to
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Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 8:16 AM UTC
Like a dinosaur
Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! though that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, ’Twere better than the cold reality Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, And hath been still, upon the lovely earth, A chaos of deep passion, from his birth. But should it be—that dream eternally Continuing—as dreams have been to me In my young boyhood—should it thus be given, ’Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven. For I have revelled when the sun was bright I’ the summer sky, in dreams of living light And loveliness,—have left my very heart Inclines of my imaginary apart From mine own home, with beings that have been Of mine own thought—what more could I have seen? ’Twas once—and only once—and the wild hour From my remembrance shall not pass—some power Or spell had bound me—’twas the chilly wind Came o’er me in the night, and left behind Its image on my spirit—or the moon Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon Too coldly—or the stars—howe’er it was That dream was that that night-wind—let it pass. I have been happy, though in a dream. I have been happy—and I love the theme: Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife Of semblance with reality which brings To the delirious eye, more lovely things Of Paradise and Love—and all my own!— Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.
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3.1k
Dreams
Wilted flower, ageless in A time of frailty, never wishing For her glow to fade, but Every flower wilts over time. She was weak in sympathy Seeing everyone though her Outer shell was, of ill taste, Souring there eyes. So those of younger skin she Spat upon in hated gestures, Until she could not see beauty, Only those having what had Faded upon her over time. She was a seamstress of cloth, Fashion was in her eyes, beauty For beauty now all was bland As her image tainted, She was Upon a plan. She would take beauty from those Unworthy souls, who abused the Gift for it should be collected, Harvested, so began her crime. The first was a nose, cut off still Breathing jagged edges ruined. She slashed upon beauty as stillness Settled in there eyes. Like a canvass Now ruined, ugly in her sight, Discarded in to the river the fishes Feasting upon her crime. She harvested, parts each dead for moments but stillness brought precision, each  flawless gem, with Precise loops each part fell in to place. She only needed one more ,the lips So delicate, so fragile. She carved So many kisses from the bodies, But never the correct, impatient She became, enraged with failures. Her moments of rage, became news. "The patch work doll" "The seamstress of beauty" She liked this name for beauty Was a puzzle that she stitched Together to hide the ugly inside. Then upon those fated moments, "Excuse me do you know the" Her mind forgot to listen, transfixed Upon those ruby gems, Yes ill Show you the way. "Thank you mam" Ill fated beauty, single breathes to Take. These where her jewels of Her crown as each most delicately Removed, stored so not to break. The patchwork was finished, **hideous Monstrosity** of flesh dead, but she Revelled upon her creation. Missing The point that she was only faded inside. She wore this mask, **the seamstress of Beauty** now wore the blood of others Upon her face, each was a life taken For this moment in the mirror, she Looked upon in happiness, in joy Of others pain, but the moment faded. All she saw was others, her beauty hidden Upon the stiches of others face, she Couldn't see herself only the faces of Each life she did take. The lips moved Spoken words upon this face, you want This beauty take it cut it with the knife. She cut upon this mask, deep cuts Upon her own self, the mask fell To the floor, spare parts of meat. She cut around, bleeding down Kissing the floor as it fell. Till she Stood there, her skin, meat upon The floor. Those final moments the seamstress Saw she was beautiful, that it was Underneath that was what she had Missed, so much beauty spilled for What, as she ran screaming towards The window. Like a mirror shattering shards Showing her a reflection of the beauty She had become, she was the seamstress Of many faces but know only one Face hits upon the unforgiving ground.
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Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC
Seamstress Of Beauty
Wilted flower, ageless in A time of frailty, never wishing For her glow to fade, but Every flower wilts over time. She was weak in sympathy Seeing everyone though her Outer shell was, of ill taste, Souring there eyes. So those of younger skin she Spat upon in hated gestures, Until she could not see beauty, Only those having what had Faded upon her over time. She was a seamstress of cloth, Fashion was in her eyes, beauty For beauty now all was bland As her image tainted, She was Upon a plan. She would take beauty from those Unworthy souls, who abused the Gift for it should be collected, Harvested, so began her crime. The first was a nose, cut off still Breathing jagged edges ruined. She slashed upon beauty as stillness Settled in there eyes. Like a canvass Now ruined, ugly in her sight, Discarded in to the river the fishes Feasting upon her crime. She harvested, parts each dead for moments but stillness brought precision, each  flawless gem, with Precise loops each part fell in to place. She only needed one more ,the lips So delicate, so fragile. She carved So many kisses from the bodies, But never the correct, impatient She became, enraged with failures. Her moments of rage, became news. "The patch work doll" "The seamstress of beauty" She liked this name for beauty Was a puzzle that she stitched Together to hide the ugly inside. Then upon those fated moments, "Excuse me do you know the" Her mind forgot to listen, transfixed Upon those ruby gems, Yes ill Show you the way. "Thank you mam" Ill fated beauty, single breathes to Take. These where her jewels of Her crown as each most delicately Removed, stored so not to break. The patchwork was finished, **hideous Monstrosity** of flesh dead, but she Revelled upon her creation. Missing The point that she was only faded inside. She wore this mask, **the seamstress of Beauty** now wore the blood of others Upon her face, each was a life taken For this moment in the mirror, she Looked upon in happiness, in joy Of others pain, but the moment faded. All she saw was others, her beauty hidden Upon the stiches of others face, she Couldn't see herself only the faces of Each life she did take. The lips moved Spoken words upon this face, you want This beauty take it cut it with the knife. She cut upon this mask, deep cuts Upon her own self, the mask fell To the floor, spare parts of meat. She cut around, bleeding down Kissing the floor as it fell. Till she Stood there, her skin, meat upon The floor. Those final moments the seamstress Saw she was beautiful, that it was Underneath that was what she had Missed, so much beauty spilled for What, as she ran screaming towards The window. Like a mirror shattering shards Showing her a reflection of the beauty She had become, she was the seamstress Of many faces but know only one Face hits upon the unforgiving ground.
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88
Walking in the garden, I stepped onto the grass Barefoot, And revelled in the tingles On the soles of my feet That made me smile. The grass was wet. Absently, I sat myself down And felt the grass in my hands... 'The grass is wet,' I thought, *'It feels nice, cool and peaceful, But water doesn't catch fire...'* *Can the fire inside me burn in serenity? Or will it burn out my peace And c o n s u m e me?*
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Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
What will I do?
Symphonic My fist was first five fingers Flowing Favonian into the palm of my radiant mother As cheeky as a sprite, soon I revelled in the Crisp light of the fridge and all its chilled visitors, A skin-deep draft last week, a raging harmattan yesterday, Barren among the fruitless lands of Mesopotamia. Crawling, my sergeants and I led the way through our childhood fantasies. Ali Baba's fortress, the ruins of Babylon, and up to the lately perturbed Euphrates. I dropped my automatic rifle, hurriedly snatched it up in the unforgiving desolate, just in time to narrowly dodge the absent onslaught of enemy gunfire Only to witness a serpentine strike and an explosive splash Of metal violating my infantile hand, a hand that was trusted and was caressed Now merely a bludgeon to satisfy the steel-clawed slash of the shrapnel A buffer to the skin of my wide-eyed physiognomy. Waking up in the loose sheets of a completely unremarkable beige bed, With the deoxygenated breath of the novice surgeon liquidizing in my veins, It was almost too much to handle (if you'll pardon my pun). These days it is The good hand with which I Uncork, pour, and serve. It's with the utilizable limb with which I Ignite, shift, and steer. It's with my brain that I seethe And it's with my stump That I knock.
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Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
The Sinner's War
My past cursed me as it met you lately, And It told me henceforth you are my life, Even if this is a curse I feel and live it as a boon. Time is travelling eternally but I want it to stop at this moment when I have seen you.. Please time,do not follow me when I am with her. If you are not with me,I am not there myself, Even If I conquer the world,it wouldn't be on par with the pleasure I revelled in from loving you. The oblique drizzling drops are piercing and drenching the life within me..which is me. It is because of you this unbearable sweet pain. breezed into my heart when I inhaled,but don't elude me when I exhale... You are staring at me as if you haven't influenced me, Love for you has erupted from nothing or perhaps from staring at your eyes. Don't fill yourself with past,live in this moment. I am dwelling in the dreams and the waking life is telling me that the truth is in the path of loving you..and it is showing to me as a dream. If I call this as love,then it would be diminished before this sweet pain of loving you....
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Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 8:04 AM UTC
The sweet pain.
I'll take this souvenir of our time and disappear. Go before my free will gives way. Once I was swayed by your smooth talk, revelled in being at your side, now I want to run and hide. My husband, once I was your bride, now, forgotten vows instead of confetti lay at my feet. My smile, long gone amidst the deceit. Veneers cracked, now just a sneer. I would wish you happiness, but I can't your happiness hurts the other person. So, as I said I'm taking this souvenir and disappearing. You, don't mind my talking to your severed head? It's just we have a long trip ahead. And, talking I find helps cheer up an atmosphere.
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 7:49 PM UTC
Disappear
We never saw eye to eye, you and I. Me with my growth spurts and eclipse of hair, you with high-buttoned shirts, cravat-ensnared. We took turns to overlook each other. Like your birthday on Valentine's: I, aged nine, ate with open flies. You mocked until I begged you cease. You told me boys don't cry, but smile and grit their teeth. Callous, Clements, but I've ground on since. And ten years on, your white flag got snagged, when your lesson on how to heat one's whisky in one's crotch landed you at Matron's feet, and I revelled as I watched. Maybe we should have been friends. There's a lot of you in me, D.V.C. but a pinch of salt for each trait. So let's bury the hatchet where you died and let's put it down to fate that I wasn't by your side, with a handful of earth.
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Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 6:49 AM UTC
Donald Valentine Clements
When the rose, at dawn, unsealed its perfumed lips, A discourse, rich as velvet, from its petals slips. Each delicate bloom, kissed by the nascent sun, Revelled in beauty, where all things are undone. The breeze, a suitor with languid grace, Whispered, “Are you not perfection, clothed in this space?” But the rose, with a glance that was both proud and wise, Answered, “Perfection is naught but a lie in disguise." The sun, all fire, with its golden sword, Declared, “In beauty alone, we must be adored.” But the rose, poised and regal in its bloom, Retorted, “It is in imperfection that we find room.” The dew, with a sparkle, like pearls on the sea, Asked, “Why, dear rose, this rapture in plea?” The rose, with a flourish and languorous sigh, Answered, “To live is to seek; to seek is to fly.” For power is born in the struggle to live, In beauty that dies, but has much to give. Excitement is born in existence’s call— In truth, we rise, and in truth, we fall. The rose knows, as all great souls must, That we are but moments—fleeting, yet just. And in every petal, with its silken grace, We glimpse the eternal in a mortal’s face.
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Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 3:20 PM UTC
The Philosophy of Petals
For a very long time I wasn’t proud to say I was Canadian. Not to say that I was ashamed Of the country that I was born in. But it never really felt Like Canada was my country, It felt more like the country That I happened to be living in. I went about my life, ignorant Of what makes my home so special. But as time went on, I began to learn About this Canada place. I learnt about our laws, Our people, and our history. I learnt about our lands, And revelled in their mysteries. From the edge of the pond, To the coast of the shimmering Pacific. Here lies all that is Canadian. A land of similarities that unite Instead of differences that split. Here lives a people of many races A land of the free And a land of diversity. Home of real beer. Where people put cheese and gravy on french fries And don't call it weird. We call it poutine. Where maple syrup goes with everything. Where it doesn’t matter if it's 40 above All the better to get wet. Or if it's forty below, Put on a coat And play in the snow! A land where love is free, What do I care what you like in the bedroom? It doesn't matter to me. This is a land of majestic mountains, A place of powerful prairies, And of forests of towering trees As far as the eye can see. This is a country I'm proud to call home. My Canada.
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Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 2:59 PM UTC
My Canada
And everyone believed in her Oblivious to her nightly tears She could never see their girl Blinded by her faults and fears So she wished upon a broken star That shattered every one of her dreams Burdened with the screaming scars Tonight she murdered her self-esteem Learned not to see the light Consumed by the vicious lies So she surrendered to the fight Yet again she tries and tries Learned to laugh through her pain For she was so sick of crying Now she revelled in the rain It washed away her doubts for dying To the heavens and the skies I’m sorry for another broken star Its magic was just another lie Hope, cruelly snatched from afar To the soul that paid the heavy price I’m sorry for this crafting mutation But night after night, it would never suffice You must’ve understood the satisfaction To the victim trapped under water I’m sorry for drowning you in its depths In a ruthless slaughter: but I loathed her Please forgive me before our last breath To the readers of this pitied story I bid you all one final warning Don’t be deceived by their lies and our goodness For I was never the blessed, intelligent girl And don’t be blinded by your own loveliness For I’m not that beautiful, sweet, caring girl And I’m not the girl you and I wanted from me But she is the girl I have tried to be And I am through wearing this mask of deception
 For you believe it all, but not its selfish intentions Please help me…I pray to god for you to help me But for the sake of your loveliness, your compassion and all that you conserve Don’t: you are best to let me be For I am getting all I deserve
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Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 8:02 PM UTC
Broken Star
And everyone believed in her Oblivious to her nightly tears She could never see their girl Blinded by her faults and fears So she wished upon a broken star That shattered every one of her dreams Burdened with the screaming scars Tonight she murdered her self-esteem Learned not to see the light Consumed by the vicious lies So she surrendered to the fight Yet again she tries and tries Learned to laugh through her pain For she was so sick of crying Now she revelled in the rain It washed away her doubts for dying To the heavens and the skies I’m sorry for another broken star Its magic was just another lie Hope, cruelly snatched from afar To the soul that paid the heavy price I’m sorry for this crafting mutation But night after night, it would never suffice You must’ve understood the satisfaction To the victim trapped under water I’m sorry for drowning you in its depths In a ruthless slaughter: but I loathed her Please forgive me before our last breath To the readers of this pitied story I bid you all one final warning Don’t be deceived by their lies and our goodness For I was never the blessed, intelligent girl And don’t be blinded by your own loveliness For I’m not that beautiful, sweet, caring girl And I’m not the girl you and I wanted from me But she is the girl I have tried to be And I am through wearing this mask of deception
 For you believe it all, but not its selfish intentions Please help me…I pray to god for you to help me But for the sake of your loveliness, your compassion and all that you conserve Don’t: you are best to let me be For I am getting all I deserve
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42
They made us by hand A replicant's life is cheap But they don't under stand We dream of electric sheep It's pain full to live in fear Being a slave who has to comply 4 years to explore the last frontier Wake up, time to die I have seen things you people wouldn't believe Attack ships off the shore of orion But I still can't grieve After seeing all these people dying No one will see your crime No one will see your pain every thing is lost in time like tears in the rain The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long And I have burned so very brightly But I am not ready to sing my swan song I will not take this lightly We were made as well as they could make us but not to last I have done questionable extraordinary things and revelled in my time He wouldn't give me more time no matter how I asked It will now be his turn to run out of time to pay for this crime I have seen things you people wouldn't believe Attack ships off the shore of orion But I still can't grieve After seeing all these people dying No one will see your crime No one will see your pain every thing is lost in time like tears in the rain proud of your slef little man, Show me what your made of Im right here but you have to shoot straight, but shooting straight isn't good enough You better get it up, I'm gonna have to **** you 6 7 go to hell go to heaven, but still there is nothing you can do To bad I'm not going to live But then again who does I am going to let you survive Just because I have seen things you people wouldn't believe Attack ships off the shore of orion Finally I can grieve After seeing all these people dying No one will know my crime No one will know my pain I hope every thing is lost in time like tears in the rain Time to Die
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Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 4:58 PM UTC
Blade Runner
They made us by hand A replicant's life is cheap But they don't under stand We dream of electric sheep It's pain full to live in fear Being a slave who has to comply 4 years to explore the last frontier Wake up, time to die I have seen things you people wouldn't believe Attack ships off the shore of orion But I still can't grieve After seeing all these people dying No one will see your crime No one will see your pain every thing is lost in time like tears in the rain The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long And I have burned so very brightly But I am not ready to sing my swan song I will not take this lightly We were made as well as they could make us but not to last I have done questionable extraordinary things and revelled in my time He wouldn't give me more time no matter how I asked It will now be his turn to run out of time to pay for this crime I have seen things you people wouldn't believe Attack ships off the shore of orion But I still can't grieve After seeing all these people dying No one will see your crime No one will see your pain every thing is lost in time like tears in the rain proud of your slef little man, Show me what your made of Im right here but you have to shoot straight, but shooting straight isn't good enough You better get it up, I'm gonna have to **** you 6 7 go to hell go to heaven, but still there is nothing you can do To bad I'm not going to live But then again who does I am going to let you survive Just because I have seen things you people wouldn't believe Attack ships off the shore of orion Finally I can grieve After seeing all these people dying No one will know my crime No one will know my pain I hope every thing is lost in time like tears in the rain Time to Die
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49
Distance, the sole aim,  Far away from anyone she ever knew Some sugar, some spice Some difference Something erratic and unpredictable Unseen to her eyes, unheard of to her ears, A newness, to contrast the Monotony that is routine. Perhaps a thrill of people actually Missing her presence, Couple with an anonymity, An emancipation from having to  Conform To the rules of where she belonged. The runaway face of a vagabond, Searching, searching for somewhere To trash the label that People had already  plastered to her identity. Masked under a smile, Prepared to be whoever she wanted  To be; Finally fulfilling dreams  That were otherwise shackled  By chains of her own ipseity,  By words she never said But were quoted as hers anyways. The runaway face of a stranger now, Tasting tears that those who loved her Would shed in her memory. She revelled in this finality, This realisation that hit them now That she was gone. As though a hidden price tag had been revealed  As though a number had just been scanned from a  Barcode, For her real worth hadn’t been comprehended By those who saw the bars of the cryptogram As mere lines Of varying width (moods), Wholly existing amidst  The conventional, yet strangely unattainable   Black and white That was her, and her alone, But had now morphed As distinct colours of a  Different kind of light into The runaway face of a lone victor.
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 7:42 AM UTC
Runaway
I revelled in  pleasures That you wrapped around me And something so good Should not ever end I basked in sensations From rhythmic movements That cut off my breaths I loved every second Of tender sweet lips Embarking on journeys With chill bumps along Each trail you would wind It always amazed me How feelings erupted And left me exhausted Still begging for more I thought since I had you No gold ring was needed Oh I meant to buy one To keep you all mine But time winded on And I never ventured To jewelry places As I failed to see That ring that you wanted Could be so important In my vanity So you lost your faith To my negligence Till your empty pillow And your vacant closet Attest to the blindness I had for your feelings Now I pay the price For thoughtless assumptions In solitare nights Of longing for you Copyright Louis Brown
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Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 6:41 PM UTC
I Revelled in Pleasures
My first cigarette was at twelve years old, under the climbing frame, after my turn on the monkey bars. My mate told me not to do it- he tried to take it off me but was too late. I’ve been trying to quit ever since. Soon after, that little climber discovered cider, yearned for something wider and ended up with alcohol poisoning by the end of the year. My first stand-up gig was Lee Mack. I was 13. I sat right at the back on the balcony and revelled in the happy faces below me. Ending with a slow motion impression of Eric Morecambe, I could’ve sworn it was the fastest hour of my life. I can’t believe I was So naïve. When I sat my first exam at sixteen, an hour seemed a minute. Crash forward to A-levels and I was being examined in a therapist’s office- how the tables had turned. Ticking boxes to be assessed and there’s no way I can pass this test because a high score can only mean very bad things. How can life be so virile, yet so lacking and sterile? I was told I’d find myself at uni But I’ve ended up losing myself at twenty.
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Jun 25, 2024
Jun 25, 2024 at 10:20 AM UTC
Laminar flow
The black horses run There hooves like Earthquakes upon the ground, Tremble before them For those who felt there coming No longer Above ground, Each imprint of there coming For an age petrified is the ground, Four horses Four riders, They are those who know no Fear, They are the chosen ones As of the old, New horseman born. Insanity, With but a touch A mind Crazed beyond control, So many puppets on a string So many uncontrolled Morals, Right, From Wrong, When the mind fractured They don't matter any more. Pestilence But with a touch, Flesh blisters Coughs Spreads its strain, Villages still, The diseased like wilted Flowers, Decomposing on the floor A cough, A sneeze, Would sign your death, Others fearful of Pestilence, Of the fatal disease, killed by mistake. Decay, Puts his charm to the touch, He was the gentlest it seemed But this disguised, The horror, For with but a breath, He released decay Flesh ripened, Decayed, A hunger too renewed For only others flesh would Only stall the putrefaction, Fathers let children consume them, Neighbour, Against Neighbour, Chewing, cooking there flesh,   All this spread with but a breath. Deathly War, Revelled in the pain *The Three Horsemen spread,* But the most powerful of all, Spread with a word, Rumors Whispers, Lies, The thoughts crawling in, Whispering in ears That could end all life But with a push of a button, But first he wanted fields of blood Innocent, Corrupted, Pure, Stained, *The four horses would shatter the earth,* There hooves, Telling of the incoming ruin of Earth.
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
Four Black horses
The black horses run There hooves like Earthquakes upon the ground, Tremble before them For those who felt there coming No longer Above ground, Each imprint of there coming For an age petrified is the ground, Four horses Four riders, They are those who know no Fear, They are the chosen ones As of the old, New horseman born. Insanity, With but a touch A mind Crazed beyond control, So many puppets on a string So many uncontrolled Morals, Right, From Wrong, When the mind fractured They don't matter any more. Pestilence But with a touch, Flesh blisters Coughs Spreads its strain, Villages still, The diseased like wilted Flowers, Decomposing on the floor A cough, A sneeze, Would sign your death, Others fearful of Pestilence, Of the fatal disease, killed by mistake. Decay, Puts his charm to the touch, He was the gentlest it seemed But this disguised, The horror, For with but a breath, He released decay Flesh ripened, Decayed, A hunger too renewed For only others flesh would Only stall the putrefaction, Fathers let children consume them, Neighbour, Against Neighbour, Chewing, cooking there flesh,   All this spread with but a breath. Deathly War, Revelled in the pain *The Three Horsemen spread,* But the most powerful of all, Spread with a word, Rumors Whispers, Lies, The thoughts crawling in, Whispering in ears That could end all life But with a push of a button, But first he wanted fields of blood Innocent, Corrupted, Pure, Stained, *The four horses would shatter the earth,* There hooves, Telling of the incoming ruin of Earth.
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God gave us the stars to shoot for so we would have ***** other than our sister or brother eager to reach the shooting range we slammed the shuttle door on our captain’s silver crown in a sea spilling from His ichor sack punctured by our hubris we drown- memes and cat videos worth dying for We set fire to the shuttle gasp as our air begins to leave Amazon(s) choose to scuttle trees land and humans need to breathe a musk most putrid rises as we cannibalize our space ex who’s so far gone as to not come back her zombie bridezilla tirade wrecks our plan it removes futures from the trajectory track God gave us the stars to shoot for so we reduced our target to soot we revelled in our high score not feeling the pain in our shot foot and the cats still in secret revery dance their funny jig sardonic wit stuffed still in every blank screen -small or large- on the skeleton of our ghastly ghost space rig reduced to rubble by a friendly depth charge. God gave us the stars to shoot for it was we who chose to use a gun we chose to ram through the door not checking if it was open God gave us the stars to shoot for leaving the details for us to decide rockets to be built to make war or explore as shuttlecraft for a human slingshot ride an arching advance into the beauties of our Creator made for us to enjoy in love ~ NM 08/25/19
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Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 5:12 PM UTC
Goodbye Earth: A Tragicomedy
nibbling on the rainbow the saffron flag is swaying, bearing a crooked smiley emoticon these days sometime ago… the land beamed with pride as happy lips of backgrounds varied in jingles of diversity revelled but no more, no more today… scars mar in face of fading acceptance spirit of songs of oneness being muffled by voices intimidating, dominant and intolerant for birds of minorities dark clouds smear the skies and fear assails their hearts to spread their wings too wide to fly mob lynching awaits if ‘wrong’ meat found on your plate and your verses of dissent could be your gateway to prison or invite a cold ****** at your door-step
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Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 11:38 PM UTC
the intolerant saffron
you laughed. laughed heartily while we were at your garage getting drunk on happiness. at some point I picked your gasoline up and I began to douse myself with it. your hands didn't stop me at first. in fact you were amazed that I was even doing that in the first place. after twenty minutes you had a Zippo in your hand and you set me aflame. I revelled in your fire. I relished it like no other. after a while you got bored of me. seeing the same old flame burn was way too monotonous for you yet you said nothing and just watched while I continued pouring your gasoline on my bodice. I realised that you had stopped lighting me. I asked why. there was no reply, only, "I am not worthy of you." in quiet hushed tones. I missed your fire. I grabbed your Zippo and set myself alight, but again you only watched and it did not feel the same. there was no warmth in self-inflicted burns, and your eyes seemed to wander. here i am, cinders of that one time, and still I wish you would set me alight again. -x.o.
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Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 11:10 PM UTC
the weight of unrequited love
When I first made the night, I did The moonlight sloshed in jars I pulled the blackness overhead And pinned it there with stars I spilled the moon a puddle Like a ghost it rose aloft I waved a gentle breeze, I did A whisper in the trees, I hid A lullaby, to ease the lid A silence, butter soft I revelled in the night, I did The void I’d cut for me I edged the world in silhouette With silver filigree I felt dewdrops clustering In beads about my face The creeping glow of dawn, I spy A purple hint of morning sky An hour overdrawn, am I And slightly out of place
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Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 6:53 PM UTC
The Night I Did