"sevenfold" poems
VIII. TO ARES (17 lines)
(ll. 1-17) Ares, exceeding in strength, chariot-rider, golden-
helmed, doughty in heart, shield-bearer, Saviour of cities,
harnessed in bronze, strong of arm, unwearying, mighty with the
spear, O defence of Olympus, father of warlike Victory, ally of
Themis, stern governor of the rebellious, leader of righteous
men, sceptred King of manliness, who whirl your fiery sphere
among the planets in their sevenfold courses through the aether
wherein your blazing steeds ever bear you above the third
firmament of heaven; hear me, helper of men, giver of dauntless
youth! Shed down a kindly ray from above upon my life, and
strength of war, that I may be able to drive away bitter
cowardice from my head and crush down the deceitful impulses of
my soul. Restrain also the keen fury of my heart which provokes
me to tread the ways of blood-curdling strife. Rather, O blessed
one, give you me boldness to abide within the harmless laws of
peace, avoiding strife and hatred and the violent fiends of
death.
5.6k
I can't escape the thought of you lately it seems
I hear Thrice, Icon for Hire, Avenged Sevenfold, 7eventh Time Down,
Sent By Ravens, hear them everywhere
See your brother in the store
See your mom at church
See a guitar
See the color red, the color green
Think of Christmas and what you meant to me
*Someone who waited for me to reach comfort
Someone who left me too soon
You accepted every piece of me
You played the game, where we let the world laugh*
The thought of skipping
When I dance, the salsa, anything
Watching the Sox game
Walking past you're old spot
*Remembering everyday that seemed to last forever and end
too quickly*
Every time I write the letter 'X,' your favorite
Think of green eyes, and how we said yours secretly were
Think Taylor Swift and the joke that you two were destined
My birthday comes and how you were the only one who
remembered that year
Each time I still wear the perfume you bought me
Whenever I think of movies and how you drove out to be with me
See a bicycle or think long walks
Hear music in a language I don't understand
Get frustrated at Ecclesiastical Latin, because you do understand
Hide from the violence, because you grew up with it too
Think of leaving
Think of silence
Think of lies
Think of empty promises
Think of "I'll come back for you"
Think of calculus
And how you are such a nerd
And I stare at my paper
At these nonsensical equations
Of calculus
Of us
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 10:04 AM UTC
I
Who would be
A mermaid fair,
Singing alone,
Combing her hair
Under the sea,
In a golden curl
With a comb of pearl,
On a throne?
II
I would be a mermaid fair;
I would sing to myself the whole of the day;
With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair;
And still as I comb'd I would sing and say,
'Who is it loves me? who loves not me?'
I would comb my hair till my ringlets would fall
Low adown, low adown,
From under my starry sea-bud crown
Low adown and around,
And I should look like a fountain of gold
Springing alone
With a shrill inner sound
Over the throne
In the midst of the hall;
Till that great sea-snake under the sea
From his coiled sleeps in the central deeps
Would slowly trail himself sevenfold
Round the hall where I sate, and look in at the gate
With his large calm eyes for the love of me.
And all the mermen under the sea
Would feel their immortality
Die in their hearts for the love of me.
III
But at night I would wander away, away,
I would fling on each side my low-flowing locks,
And lightly vault from the throne and play
With the mermen in and out of the rocks;
We would run to and fro, and hide and seek,
On the broad sea-wolds in the crimson shells,
Whose silvery spikes are nighest the sea.
But if any came near I would call and shriek,
And adown the steep like a wave I would leap
From the diamond-ledges that jut from the dells;
For I would not be kiss'd by all who would list
Of the bold merry mermen under the sea.
They would sue me, and woo me, and flatter me,
In the purple twilights under the sea;
But the king of them all would carry me,
Woo me, and win me, and marry me,
In the branching jaspers under the sea.
Then all the dry-pied things that be
In the hueless mosses under the sea
Would curl round my silver feet silently,
All looking up for the love of me.
And if I should carol aloud, from aloft
All things that are forked, and horned, and soft
Would lean out from the hollow sphere of the sea,
All looking down for the love of me.
3.9k
Water the Greenhouse
Water the plants on the deck.
Walk Autumn Moon.
Salutation to the Sun
Yoga on the deck
Prayers
Angel of Air
Reading & Study with Ken
Sipping herbals & he, his coffee.
Pick up.
Moving the living room furniture
Rearranging. Sweeping. Mopping.
Clean the kennel.
Fresh bedding for Autumn.
A break for Sevenfold Peace in the sunshine.
Listening to the Holy Stream of Sound.
Playing with Autumn.
Laughing with Ken.
Continuing with rearranging & cleaning
Done!
Another break
With Ken, Autumn & Habibie
By the firepit in front of the shop.
Auti chasing water up and down and around.
Walk to Alli's, talk and pick up the key.
Cut broccoli, cabbage, carrots, & kale
Add a few pods of peas
Drizzle poppy seed dressing.
Two bowls with 1/2 cup of rolled oats each
Add cinnamon.
Taking a teaspoon
Half full with honey.
Dipping it into the center of the oats
Pouring boiling water over the honey.
Into the oats.
Stirring and stirring
Watching the cinnamon spirals
Mix into the sweet porridge.
Small cacao chips, sunflower seeds
A few raisins
Sprinkled as garnish.
Eating together
Smallville, playing with Autumn
Habibie resting near by.
She maybe carrying kittens.
Too early to tell.
Tired. Good night. Sleep.
2:30 am.
Ken up watching a movie on is phone.
My, my, how times have changed.
Return to bed.
Writing, writing, writing….now it is done.
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 1:07 PM UTC
Music
Running out of time, nothing left to rhyme,
no longer in my prime, listening to Sublime.
Used to smoke **** slaves I have freed,
red I still bleed, listening to Creed.
I'm all that, I have kicked my cat,
my girl is a brat, listening to Ratt.
Invented a love potion, makes girls frozen,
many things I've broken, listening to Poison.
Buried in the sand, not what I planned,
I need a helping hand, listening to The Steve Miller Band.
Too many cell phones, can never get any loans,
love the show Bones, listening to The Rolling Stones.
Confessing all my sins, playing some violins,
dizzy from the spins, listening to The Thompson Twins.
Standing in the cold, my life is uncontrolled,
just got paroled, listening to Avenged Sevenfold.
Sprayed with mace, kicked in the face,
stuck in this rat race, listening to Three Days Grace.
Working the graveyard shift, lots of sand I must sift,
my life needs a lift, listening to Taylor Swift.
Living in Illinois, tired of hearing noise,
losing all my poise, listening to The Beach Boys.
No hands on the clock, it's me people mock,
dryer stole another sock, listening to Kid Rock.
Music has made me what I am,
loving the hairbands and the glam.
Hard rock is all I know,
how could you not like Ugly Kid Joe.
Heavy metal is where it's at,
all the older bands are bald and fat.
Top forty isn't half bad,
every year it's a different fad.
Disco and grunge had a short stay,
Nirvana and Pearl Jam, get too much air play.
Hip hop and rap has been around to long,
can they even sing a real song.
Nothing will ever beat the eighties,
spandex, hair and all the ***** ladies.
My two favorite songs are Sister Christian,
and Here I go Again,
those songs remind me of way back when.
Country, well that will always ****
rednecks, Nascar, hunting and a giant truck.
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 1:58 AM UTC
*We lose so much talent to addiction
Some of you may not care, but I do
This is my tribute to them*
**Alan Wilson
Canned Heat
Jimi Hendrix
The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Janis Joplin
Jim Morrison
The Doors
Brian Cole
The Association
Billy Murcia
New York Dolls
Danny Whitten
Crazy Horse
Gram Parsons
The Stooges
Gary Thain
Uriah Heep
Elvis Presley
Gregory Herbert
Blood, Sweat & Tears
Keith Moon
The Who
Sid Vicious
*** Pistols
Lowell George
Little Feat
Jimmy McCulloch
Wings
John Bonham
Led Zeppelin
Darby Crash
Germs
James Honeyman-Scott
Pretenders
Pete Farndon
Pretenders
Paul Gardiner
Tubeway Army
Gary Holton
Heavy Metal Kids
Phil Lynott
Thin Lizzy
Andrew Wood
Mother Love Bone
Brent Mydland
Grateful Dead
Steve Clark
Def Leppard
Johnny Thunders
New York Dolls
David Ruffin
The Temptations
Kristen Pfaff
Hole
Shannon Hoon
Blind Melon
Bradley Nowell
Sublime
John Kahn
Jerry Garcia Band
Jonathan Melvoin
The Smashing Pumpkins
Billy Mackenzie
Associates
West Arkeen
The Outpatience
Nick Traina
Link 80
John Baker Saunders
Mad Season
Bobby Sheehan
Blues Traveler
Wes Berggren
Tripping Daisy
Allen Woody
The Allman Brothers Band
Carl Crack
Atari Teenage Riot
Layne Staley
Alice in Chains/Mad Seasons
Kurt Cobain
Nirvana
Dee Dee
Ramones
Robbin Crosby
Ratt
John Entwistle
The Who
Howie Epstein
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
Jeremy Michael Ward
De Facto
Tim Hemensley
GOD
Dave Schulthise
The Dead Milkmen
Rick James
Kevin DuBrow
Quiet Riot
Ike Turner
Gidget Gein
Marilyn Manson
Jay Bennett
Wilco
Michael Jackson
The Rev
Avenged Sevenfold
Paul Gray
Slipknot
Mike Starr
Alice in Chains
Amy Winehouse**
*We are not bad people, we just have bad ways
Yet, not many understand*
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
My Religion - Music is Life
Fall Out Boy-
Patrick-God
Andrew(Andy)-Jesus
Joseph(Joe)-Angel
Peter(Pete)-Angel
Good Charlotte-
Benjamin(Benji)-God's left hand
Joel-God's right hand
Paul-Angel
William(Billy)-Angel
Drummers; the 3 wise men
Deano- Past drummer: Chris, and Aaron
Avenged Sevenfold-
M. Shadows-Angel
Synyster Gates-Angel
Zacky Vengeance-Jesus' left hand
Johnny Christ-Jesus' right hand
The Rev (Angel)-Rev. Tholomew Plague or simply Rev. Jimmy
They only equal to what god, jesus, angels, etc would be or are..
Music is my religion.
Let Me Have My Music
and I'll be okay!
No One Can Take
My Music Away!
Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 3:31 AM UTC
the woman disregards
what's best for me,
( See http://hellopoetry.com/poem/bus-poems-victuals-victim/ )
gives me with kind regard,
what's best for me,
for this is the kindness
that hallmarks
the long lasting kind
bring before your childlike tap tap attention wains,
a treatise on leftover chicken wings
and other such nonsensical
finger food additions,
purposed
to inspire, to find innovation,
in expressing, reclaiming and newly exclaiming
that miscreant four letter word
that appears in the other 99% of les ecrivants
(See the notes)
in some poem writ recent,
pontificated that the
most overused three words,
yes, those abused three,
degraded by overuse,
losing their poetic juice
thru constant repetition,
being nearly
boringly indecent,
even when
boldly italicized,
the impact upon the reader
is in the realm of
"oh yeah, that's nice for you"
Better to be best in show,
deduce how,
to demonstrate
rather than insistently remonstrate,
new ways every day
to say
chicken wings means..
you know what...
Some get tea and oranges,
others get cherished
when our repast is twice recast,
when she feeds me leftover
chicken wings,
both kinds,
spiced and honey just like
l....e should be
do you know why
Silly
has two L's?
Correct.
for the run lies therein,
kissing knuckles when unexpected,
********** the exhausted, tucking them in,
going out for ice cream in the midst of a
polar vortex,
recording the game to watch later,
so her downtown abbey guys,
she can be watching at the
proper English
place and time,
and celebrating life the next day
with leftover chicken wings
and other heartfelt,
but unheart healthy food additions
that folks, is how you writ a poem in deed,
that will be returned to you sevenfold in reads,
when you want to explain how,
you can, truly, sigh,
you know, love another...
with sinful, leftover chicken wings
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
Red blood seeping down the walls and pooling all over the pearl white floor.
Finally unleashing a scream boiled inside, which pierces the air with an unmatched fury.
A menacing growl with every rev of its engine, an Audi R8 proves to be an evil on the road.
A fish has a slight taste of salt and cyanide, the poison killing millions without a look from the government.
Avenged Sevenfold’s Nightmare album, proving that even the happiest moment in your life. Can be a nightmare.
Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Mark Maquire, diminishing baseball’s glory with steroids.
The turmoil surrounding the government of Somalia and the pirates corrupting the country each and every day.
The unbearable scent of sulfur, burning the nostrils of your nose with every intake of air.
The lighting strike and the thunder crack.
Hell.
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 5:29 PM UTC
All her corn-fields rippled in the sunshine,
All her lovely vines, sweets-laden, bowed;
Yet some weeks to harvest and to vintage:
When, as one man's hand, a cloud
Rose and spread, and, blackening, burst asunder
In rain and fire and thunder.
Is there nought to reap in the day of harvest?
Hath the vine in her day no fruit to yield?
Yea, men tread the press, but not for sweetness,
And they reap a red crop from the field.
Build barns, ye reapers, garner all aright,
Though your souls be called to-night.
A cry of tears goes up from blackened homesteads,
A cry of blood goes up from reeking earth:
Tears and blood have a cry that pierces Heaven
Through all its Hallelujah swells of mirth;
God hears their cry, and though He tarry, yet
He doth not forget.
Mournful Mother, prone in dust weeping,
Who shall comfort thee for those who are not?
As thou didst, men do to thee; and heap the measure,
And heat the furnace sevenfold hot:
As thou once, now these to thee--who pitieth thee
From sea to sea?
O thou King, terrible in strength, and building
Thy strong future on thy past!
Though he drink the last, the King of Sheshach,
Yet he shall drink at the last.
Art thou greater than great Babylon,
Which lies overthrown?
Take heed, ye unwise among the people;
O ye fools, when will ye understand?--
He that planted the ear shall He not hear,
Nor He smite who formed the hand?
"Vengeance is Mine, is Mine," thus saith the Lord:--
O Man, put up thy sword.
1.4k
All my life I wanted that special someone. Someone who loves me
Very much, for who I am. I am so glad I found that person. He's there for me
Everyday and
Night. If we don't see each other, it's on the phone or text.
Gone for a week or two to my sister's doesn't
Even change a thing we still talk. That's our biggest strength.
Depends on the day, but we always try to talk it out. <3
So I would like to say, I found my soul-mate,
Even though we are "prefect" (whatever that means) for each other and we love each other
Very much, my soul-mate can still be out there.
Everyday you can continue to search, but here and
Now, in reality, will you ever find your soul-mate? When you
Find someone special and you know their not your soul-mate
Of course you have to make the best of it because you may
Lose it and never find another one again or your soul-mate.
Don't give up is what I'm saying, but don't get caught up in finding someone you may never find.
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 12:45 PM UTC
In this Nightmare where Today Feels Like Lies, I see Joe Jonas and he tells me, it's Time to Dance.
And Oh look, there's Peter! Pete tells me, that Music is Life! But I already knew this.
And there's Jimmy Sullivan--The Rev tells me, Don't Jump. I won't. I don't want to be Buried Alive. ----
"I just wanna live while I'm alive 'Cause it's my life."
Avenged Sevenfold is the Cardiology that keeps my heart beating.
Now What If... this was real and not a Dream?
Let's just Dance for Tonight.
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 9:38 AM UTC
Rays of gold fulfills the soul and tempts me to dream bold help me hold my countenance and mold my heart to adopt love sevenfold
May 5, 2022
May 5, 2022 at 2:53 PM UTC
transducer -
a device that receives a signal in the form of one type of energy and converts it to a signal in another form: A microphone is a transducer that converts acoustic energy into electrical impulses
~~~~~~~~~
so many names,
none of them, kind,
none of them, nice words
The A, The B, The C word.
she would laugh and mock a spite and spittle filled man's
feeble curses and flit off to
charge her battery, steal electric life,
from a new outlet, another male body.
now a queen bee, regaling me,
her private audience,
with takes and tales,
of newly arrived
used up worker-boys,
her pleasure sources,
discards after a
singed single discharging/recharging
why come back to me,
what perversity,
did I supply?
she was elegant,
not stupid mean,
she was royal, imaginative,
her conception of a life well lived
was freedom from responsible,
self servicing,
the only motive
the negative pole, was I,
her cruelties energy, supplied
she was a transducer,
she was a re-former,
making her hate into her positivity
the original sin, mine,
hardly original, a cheating a beating,
plot of a rerun, rerun
the fist of being her
first
and then,
her last,
and now her only,
was
her curse returned,
sevenfold unending
her vocabulary was her deeds,
and her stories,
raw rut, well writ,
notated with selfies,
to insure my eyes agonists,
lest I cover my ears
I am your Transducer
she boasted,
pronouncing it languidly,
completing its proclamation
with the venom of a shotgun
I am your
Transsssssss-ducer!
I am a woman more sinned against than sinning,^
I am a woman more avenged by revenging,
I have taken your energy,
learned your cruelty,
and it has transformed me.
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 4:40 AM UTC
The Spirit of Winter carefully tiptoes her way along the continuum of forgotten Gaelic intensities, whilst mischievous laughter resounds throughout the geographical conveniences of complacency.
How gorgeous is the anatomy of madness, as she perches on gorgon ledges of sophisticated depravity.
I do not even hail from the land of the Gauls.
Yet, ghastly and seductive are those flittering silhouettes of fortitude and perceived harlotry, as they penetrate damp walls of ancient entertainments with multiple partners.
Harken to my lament and do not banish my soul into eternal blackness, as we conjure the sword and kiss with fivefold and unconventional intensities beyond the circles of the forest.
You are now given permission to ring the bell sevenfold, Oh master, where scientific inscriptions are splayed with the blatancy of wanton chastity.
I was born by the river that is never the same whenever it is stepped into with more than one dribbling expectation.
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC
Just as the sevenfold revelation
Finishes its great unraveling
It is burned to ash
Even as I think them
The words lose meaning
Revelations as delicate cobweb strands
If I could just put them down on paper
But by the time they are written
Have become
Trite, cheap, frivalous
Mere shadows of the first-thoughts
I wish I could draw it for you
It would not be a schematic
Or a biochemical roadmap of the mind
Not a diagram of a chambered heart
But an equation unsolvable
In fact it is hard to tell where the absolutes end
And the variables begin
It is a secret part kicking and tossing itself inside
Just begging to climb it's way out
Of the primape body in which it is imprisioned!
As the body casts the shadow
So does it cast it's shape on the darkness of eternity
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
Wrap me in rainbows,
colour me in sevenfold:
red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet.
Give me something that I can never forget,
dig out the love that’s buried deep within
and let your tenderness radiate my skin
as I find myself in the curve of your feminine form
on cloud nine with seven minutes in heaven
a new love has been born.
You breathe perfection to these naive bones
and make me feel things I don’t deserve
for seven deadly sins you make it known:
pride, wrath, lust, greed, gluttony, envy and sloth.
Can I be your lucky number seven
and make you feel hot?
Shine your bright light on me,
lift me up for I wear broken wings
and set me free from this self inflicted misery.
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 1:29 AM UTC
What you do comes back to you
I hear it’s sevenfold
Whether it be good or bad
The story is age old
So often you don’t think about
How someone feels for you
You never give a second thought
As you break their heart in two
So many of us hit the door
With wings upon our feet
Never giving a second look
At the pain we leave
It may never cross your mind
That all they think about is you
But one day you may find yourself
Hurting like they do
If you leave a trail of broken hearts
Lying in a row
Perhaps one day you’ll find yourself
Reaping what you sow
Don’t ever treat hearts carelessly
Leaving hurt that burns a trail
Or you may find the one who pays you back
Does it oh so well
Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 6:47 PM UTC
by a proxy delivered
a days sour face
its painted eye fixed on jacob's ladder
and salvation's cherubs
who seven times sevenfold tell the tale
but the tale is threadbare by the time they have spun the spin
all call each other rookies as they verbally fistfight
over the breadcrumb leavings
charred remains of her melted mind
smoulder weakly in the
interment rain
she would sit in the dirt
sketching beautiful things
known for being pretty for all the eyes that don't see
leaving the brick and mortar life
for everything imagination tells you
is so beautiful
you don't want to change the world
just want your world to change
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
Torchlights bloomed,
glowing amber rays
against the silver-studded sky:
beacons watching,
waiting,
for the silent men
who slowly slide
though sheltering shadows,
toward our nocturnal homeland.
Dew settled:
sheets of diamond-dust
sevenfold upon the
shimmering sand.
Distant songs (faintly heard),
tried to fade,
yet lingered on the smokey
air...
Fires (the First Rituals)
flickered, flared --
and I remembered
the sound of your voice.
Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 11:49 AM UTC
"Your word is a lamp for my feet
and a light for my path."
For music is the light
that will guide my feet
down the path.
Fall Out Boy, Good Charlotte, and Avenged Sevenfold
are my God(s), for
MUSIC is my religion.
And that's my life.
Without FOB & GC in my life
I don't know where I would be--
I owe a lot more to GC where they got me into FOB & A7X,
but FOB saved my life when I went through my suicidal days.
To that Thank You-
FOB and GC! and A7X!
I love you guys, FOREVER!
My angel. My savior.
My RELIGION.
Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 3:05 AM UTC
Wait in a smoke-filled motel room;
Paint my nails electric blue.
Shave my legs with your razor.
Write a line or two.
Scratch my skin through your shirt.
Keep on playing our song.
Run my fingers through my hair;
You always liked it long.
Counted my blessings sevenfold,
Swayed on the railroad like a stage.
Made love to the night with your guitar;
While I scrawled across a page.
High on dreams and drugs.
Found a world stowed away.
And baby, you had a bad mouth.
Spoke some very wrong things.
But a warm old soul,
And a heart that was whole,
When you played against those strings.
But now we're both going mad, you and I.
Afraid we can't go on no more.
Told me I was your muse;
Now I'm not so sure.
'Cause you don't play the way you used to,
It's all disrupted cacophony.
And when I sit down to write,
The blank page taunts me.
And the time lulls,
Ages, withers down to unknown.
A dying pulse flittering beneath flesh.
Bruising against bone.
Cuts its way into the darkest corner of my mind.
Wonder if I should head home.
And the candlelight flickers down to metal,
As the rain suffocates the pavement tightly.
Two hours pass so fast,
Each tick feels like a mockery.
Take a pen,
And through this ink,
I see the world in bold,
Our world.
I should've known...
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
A new dawn begins,
When a knife slits you're throat.
Or an arrow pierces your back.
As Lycan,
You survive.
Healing in short bursts.
To take it out on the enemy,
The traitor tonight.
A new age begins,
The journey sevenfold.
When the pack unites.
Under the White Moon.
As Lycan,
Or Vampirith.
You will live.
In the shadows of man,
Who forever hunts.
You're dying kin.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
*the LORD said unto him, Therefore whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold. And the LORD set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him should **** him*
I - one can only hope to be the genisis of fear and god onto oneself
II - I fear that my poetry is the mark that which can **** you, words that leave scars on the author itself
III - I USE THAT MARK, THIS POETRY AS A CANE, TO STABALIZE THE EFFECTS MY ILL FORGOTTEN WAYS HAVE CREATED AND WILL BENEVOLENTLY STRIKE AGAIN
IV - I'm tired of keeping myself awake, away and alive, hiding in the shadows because I have slain the innocence
V- prayeth someone will have mercy on my soul because I know that the monster above will not
VI - forgive me for I have sinned
VII - leaving you broke me as well. My heart, my lungs and body and soul, my spirit, my mind and my gut wrenching faith
Sevenfold in the name of Jesus Christ I am lost, my rebellion is this parchment, these last words I pray, Amen.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 2:03 AM UTC
Enshrouded by youth, the chorus became eclipsed,
And echoes enveloped seven heads of the Six.
Repeated without the veil of truth, six became eight,
Divided, corresponding with the Evangelical Fruit.
Subsequently, nine became seven and seven became nine
As the subtraction of three from four equalled six.
Separations of the fourteenth whole coordinated,
Containing remnants of the fifth,
Creating eighty-four marriages
Of the Sevenfold Betwixt.
Suffice to say, two preceded one,
Followed by the Heavenly Body.
Jun 26, 2024
Jun 26, 2024 at 6:01 AM UTC