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"solice" poems
A crowded room, I just dance, finding solice beneath the mask. Friends they chatter laugh and squee, every one enjoying humanity. Pulse is racing, words they vanish I can't stand this. I wish I could join the crowd and interject some interlect. Instead the panic steals the magic and now its to late, oh woe is my fate. Stuck inside my own head, is it time yet for my bed? Slip away quietly drinking my sobriety, hoping that next time my courage will win and I can finally play my part, instead of dancing in the dark.
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC
Socially Awkward Me
Silky smiled girls With cups tipped off of saturdays doubts Validating infidelity for a firm grasp Graffiti sideways winks Your only as remarkable as your last debute Born again to a word offering baptisms in svedka Your vices tattood on a list of hymns Find solice in no mans company Bring faith on your knees to a boy who can't speak his name Your body is a temple with access through insecurity Bless me father it has been two drinks since my last confession Silky smiled girls Make no home for validation in weekend crimes
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Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
Validation of Our Vices
You're risking naught, an annihilation of worth Wasting and encouraging moments to rot. Decay. Values friendship Twisted morals dipped in deceit. Not satisfied with boundaries Chasing infected affection swirling in the smooth crevasses of backwash around emptied wine bottles Impressionable, emitting the most tenacious of the F word Fake Fake and Selfish It isn't narcissism when you drown yourself in the pits No permission, no inhibition As lazy as the Greeks who never made a move to climb the mountaintop and defy their Gods face to face Dependent and ******* support from Clans because you're terrified of this world At least I"m honest with my decanter of harming thoughts. obsessed and overbearing, flesh crawling use my being as subject matter and mold it into paperdoll play toys like gold eye-liner its a party trick seek solice when grimacing down a bottle of brew bumpers in the bowling alley a Life Alert sort of living You claim to haven no fear but I see your throat clench start living admit the defeat a proud coward lilly livered, yellow belly shift shift between a fable and nerve
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Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 1:38 AM UTC
Safety Dance
the darkness comes as it goes the dread however, seems intent on staying. falling to my feet only ends up a ****** mess theres no soft place to fall, no solice to take. ... there is only the act of hardening and tempered steel, though, when cold to the touch is savagely barren it can still in the heat of fire take on the attributes of warmth and melt and become something rather inept though slightly beautiful. ... what then, is there to do but reform our selves and invite anguish and pain and then harden and soften again till we find the shape of our hearts in the mould of the future we once dreamed of if we can still remember it. ... and dread will be our constant companion; the third wheel in our fortunes. which was never handed to us in any decent form of fate, but that in that fight of going anywhere somewhere hidden in the violent struggle is our often ignored love beating its heart out for the tempo to temper and both beats to trigger each other in all our love states simply to be recognised for what they are, invincible.
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Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 4:40 AM UTC
needed a laugh so I wrote this bad poem
Echoes and whispers Begin to change Sound and silence Become the same I look back From where I came To find solice In everything
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Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 2:00 AM UTC
The Calm
It will haunt her the favorite pencil tip softened just so... paw pushed it somewhere to a secret spot out of vision, her reach a peice of paper elusive yet there... lodged deep amidst a stack of most important things She does not lose well... Not in terms of games or competition but the things in her life that envelop her world tough n' scrappy beautiful n' tender holding all things dear close to her heart Loss is a place of  deepest contemplation Her memories are vibrant, alive She does not lose well creatures and people that are immersed in her life even one pulled out leaves like a building block A tear A gap A hole in her life She does not forget or minimize the pertinance of freindship love A moment that has touched her heart When it is time for the loss the breaking of her heart can be felt through time space The moment becomes filled With rainbows of light She will bathe in that beam... helps guide them home She trusts in the divine finding there solice amidst the flutterings of her tender, broken heart Grief shrouds her A mystical veil that holds her dearly as the pain becomes bearable she will begin to tell her stories once again ~ Christi Michaels ~ June 2014~
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Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 6:04 PM UTC
she does not lose well
Cross roads within our pathways, As our minds flock to our own rhythms. Likes of individual galaxy compounded, And formulated into a personal chemistry. Truth of stars perflexed by undiscovered universe, And each stars collide in the void vexed with uncontrolled momentum. Yet there are the singlular truth in all chaos, And the relentless ether split to the vastness of space, Like calm ocean that allow our solice. Those days are but a yonder, As we ponder upon the yearning impulses. In the stillness of a full cup of water without a pin drop, And with inner thoughts still hunger, But still reach the vestige garden alone. Vintage of souls forgotten in our hearts, And shattered beats asunder murmur in tranquility. As perpatual ideals die in the burning stars, We are in space alone in dreams. No longer a thought of discord, nor any dissidents displayed, But maybe that was an act of love unspoken.
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Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC
Lament of discord and dissident
Falling... Down deep into downy Finding solice, amidst the arms of my beloved. Into warmth, my heart opening. Once again, stepping off a cliff Into love. A moment, believing I am safe, in what was once My emotional sanctuary. Falling... Down deep into reality. Honoring the integrity of my heart. Protecting, my tender self from an illusion, a memory of sanction. Once again, stepping off a cliff into love. A refuge I painfully yearn for, yet stopping myself before I land into unsafe harbor once again. Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved.
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Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
Harbor
perhaps someday my poems will become better, my writing will flourish, and my thoughts become settled. til then I sit and write you this letter, of how life can sometimes get you fed up. the ink spilled through the fountain onto a foundation becomes darker, the words that they create are those of the departed. you sit in solice wondering what created this monster, trying to figure out what you just started. a blank sheet of white covered in darkness, when deep down inside you just wanted to feel as if you were heartless. to feel what it's like to not feel at all, so onto this canvas your well of creations fall. realizing that what was vivid and bright is now permanently stained by the sheltered broken words that were once in your brain. your thoughts then try to figure if flames will suffice, and so you put the sheet up to candle light. hoping that the stained and destroyed sheet will demise. but as you unfold it, the words cross your eyes so you grab the well and the quill again just to write, what everyone did and said to ruin your life. and **** does it feel good, it feels so right, to put thoughts into words, and those words into light. and then you pause for a moment. no more noise in your mind. silence for once, everything feels fine. and you look at your hands covered in ink. you grab that paper as you read it and think. these are your creations, and now you know it. this is how the broken becomes a poet.
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Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
Birth of a writer.
There's a Dove That casts no shadow Of its story I will tell It has flown to Highest heaven It has sunk to Lowest hell It is pure as Sparkling snowbanks It could melt them Like the Sun In the end, as at beginning Over evil, Victory's won! It will fill your Soul with longing It is the End 'Fore time's begun. There's a Lion On the prairie He has strength That over-awes In His Face You'll see compassion He forgives Egregious flaws You can find Your comfort, solice, You could sleep Between His paws He is ferocious He's Protection He is gentler than a lamb Yet he has the Greatest power For he is God - The strong I AM. There's a Rose Within a garden It's blood red, For It's been torn The Rose itself Has greatest beauty Tho It wears a Crown of thorns It is pure as Light unblemished It has grown For death was born. It has a scent Beyond comparing It has light That shines within It has died, And yet is living With it's fade It took your sin Come, all you So weak and weary! All three of these, The trinity, Will come into Your life together Give you eyes, That you may see! Yes, come, bring All your broken places, Your heart, or so The Bible goes, You'll find help You will find healing *The Dove, The Lion, and The ROSE.* SøułSurvivør (C) 6/24/2017
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Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 12:47 PM UTC
The Dove, The Lion, and The Rose
Solice my companion In this existence Life abundant in Extremely difficult moments that Never will I share as no one Cares to quite simply allow me to Elaborate on what ails my soul.
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 12:57 AM UTC
Silence (an Acrostic)
She does not lose well will not forget It will haunt Her avorite Pencil Tip Softened Just So... A Paw pushed it Somewhere to a Secret Spot Out of Vision Her Reach A Peice of Paper Elusive, Yet there... Lodged Deep Amidst A Stack of Most Important Things She does not Lose Well... Not in terms of Games or Competition.. But the things in Her Life That Envelop Her World. Tough, Scrappy, Beautiful Oh-So Tender Holding all things Dear Close to Her Heart Loss is a Place of  Deepest Contemplation Her Memories Are Alive Vibrant.. Stay with Her Immense Joy Her Deep Well of Sadness A Cachet of Stories Reverberate Expanding Outward like Ripples in a Pond. She does not Lose Well The Creatures and People That are Immersed In Her Life Even One Pulled Out Leaves Like a Building Block A Tear A Gap A Hole in Her life She does Not Forget Or Minimize the Pertinance of Freindship Love A Moment that has Touched Her Heart When it is Time for The Loss The Breaking of Her Heart Can be Felt through Time Space Filled with Divine Wisdom She is Able to See All Aspects at Once. The Purpose The Moment Becomes Filled With Rainbows of Light She will Bathe in that Beam... Helps Guide Them Home Knows Intuitively She Trusts in the Divine Finding There Solice Amidst the Flutterings  of Her Tender, Broken Heart. Grief Shrouds Her A Mystical Shawl A Veil that Holds her Dearly till the Pain Becomes at Least Bearable.. Then She will Begin To Tell Her Stories Once Again. Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
She does not Lose Well
She does not lose well will not forget It will haunt Her avorite Pencil Tip Softened Just So... A Paw pushed it Somewhere to a Secret Spot Out of Vision Her Reach A Peice of Paper Elusive, Yet there... Lodged Deep Amidst A Stack of Most Important Things She does not Lose Well... Not in terms of Games or Competition.. But the things in Her Life That Envelop Her World. Tough, Scrappy, Beautiful Oh-So Tender Holding all things Dear Close to Her Heart Loss is a Place of  Deepest Contemplation Her Memories Are Alive Vibrant.. Stay with Her Immense Joy Her Deep Well of Sadness A Cachet of Stories Reverberate Expanding Outward like Ripples in a Pond. She does not Lose Well The Creatures and People That are Immersed In Her Life Even One Pulled Out Leaves Like a Building Block A Tear A Gap A Hole in Her life She does Not Forget Or Minimize the Pertinance of Freindship Love A Moment that has Touched Her Heart When it is Time for The Loss The Breaking of Her Heart Can be Felt through Time Space Filled with Divine Wisdom She is Able to See All Aspects at Once. The Purpose The Moment Becomes Filled With Rainbows of Light She will Bathe in that Beam... Helps Guide Them Home Knows Intuitively She Trusts in the Divine Finding There Solice Amidst the Flutterings  of Her Tender, Broken Heart. Grief Shrouds Her A Mystical Shawl A Veil that Holds her Dearly till the Pain Becomes at Least Bearable.. Then She will Begin To Tell Her Stories Once Again. Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved
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85
Wind the clock Set it back Way, way, back Way back to times before. Before the battle and after the war Make it bright to see the light Feel the pleasure Feel the pain Sun fades, moon wanes. Everything stays the same But keeps movin forward Draggin feet on the carousel Tryin to slow the movement. Blind to the revolution. The inevitable return Closer to the end, Closer to the beginning Big bang, big crush Babe in an incubator, Old man in a respirator Travel back to move forward Return and arrive in the same instant Fast or slow As long as it moves and doesn’t go anywhere just don’t stop. Crash! Break! Break out of the circle Fight against the tumultuous monotony Of its suffocating embrace Concentric circles Drawing in closer and closer To a cage in the middle Walls are closing in What is outside the circle? Why can’t we get out? Who are the gate keepers? Where are they hiding? How will we break through? When will we be free? Dark days and white knights Lapping life from the doggy dish Wearing the wind in our eyes Think it’s a disguise But truth is transparent And the façade is opaque beneath Get out of the circle Break the line Stand still and be delivered outside Be free But be wary For outside lie perils unknown Sanctity, Sacrifice, Solice Found in the binding of Saintly moments. For it shall be The summations of good intentions Which will break us out
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Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 8:21 AM UTC
Circle
Flurries of birds lament with me, alone on this rock, as I appear to be. But sat with the island, solice offered their calls In front of the lake, it is not who enthralls Who used to circle around my hand, the last of the hourglass, lonely piece of sand.
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Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 4:15 PM UTC
Jetty & Island
The house has become Surfeit with shadows Mom sleeps Soundly Can I tell you I'm afraid? Afraid she won't wake up. We are told that perfect Faith casts out fear ~ It isn't my faith that fails ~ I'm afraid she won't know How much I really love her. And the darkness pools Around the floors under our Heavy antique furniture ~ I believe somewhere on a Plane of them There's a fingerprint of their Craftsman, long dead. ~ There is solice in knowing that When she finally dies (And she will) her Fingerprints Will Be Left On ME
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Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 6:52 AM UTC
3:18
In tides. Change is fierce monster often left in shades of a lamb. No pressense more cruel than that known as love. Can we lie only to make this illusion so grand not appear traggic in design? We question are truths beliving are thoughts instead of asking the one beside . May we share this space only to distance areselves a little more at a time. Picking apart the reason as in any situation we just always seem to lose track of what it was that brought us here to begin with. Anger can only mask my fears so long. If you never understand then you'lll probaly stand with many. ***** the numbers it's a losing game to speak of to begin with. Cold as rain in a approaching storm we can ignore the truth if only to embrace are lies for one last time. When did I ever become the shell? A stranger in the wings to my own half thought logic . Time makes a fool of us all. As for me I sit without thought for to fight what never will be is a thought of another The wolves howl at night only to hear themselfs die. Tommorow you sound of hope in a hopeless void. People togather in doorways hide from the rain and sometimes find there placement a blessing. Some find emptyness a solice I could never explian. No man could ever be described so simply in one line. Myself I find a stranger often ive seldom cared to understand. Im far from the image yet close to the tale. Maybe storms suit me well a gray sky to a ever distant wind. Sands bury the traces yet a thought leaves it's mark. No matter my past ive found eyes still find that dust ridden cover **** my flaws for the subject is never understood. For if Heaven were a endless highway id probaly be headed south. I
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Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 4:54 PM UTC
Stop and Go / It's Never As It Seems
In tides. Change is fierce monster often left in shades of a lamb. No pressense more cruel than that known as love. Can we lie only to make this illusion so grand not appear traggic in design? We question are truths beliving are thoughts instead of asking the one beside . May we share this space only to distance areselves a little more at a time. Picking apart the reason as in any situation we just always seem to lose track of what it was that brought us here to begin with. Anger can only mask my fears so long. If you never understand then you'lll probaly stand with many. ***** the numbers it's a losing game to speak of to begin with. Cold as rain in a approaching storm we can ignore the truth if only to embrace are lies for one last time. When did I ever become the shell? A stranger in the wings to my own half thought logic . Time makes a fool of us all. As for me I sit without thought for to fight what never will be is a thought of another The wolves howl at night only to hear themselfs die. Tommorow you sound of hope in a hopeless void. People togather in doorways hide from the rain and sometimes find there placement a blessing. Some find emptyness a solice I could never explian. No man could ever be described so simply in one line. Myself I find a stranger often ive seldom cared to understand. Im far from the image yet close to the tale. Maybe storms suit me well a gray sky to a ever distant wind. Sands bury the traces yet a thought leaves it's mark. No matter my past ive found eyes still find that dust ridden cover **** my flaws for the subject is never understood. For if Heaven were a endless highway id probaly be headed south. I
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31
With our own hands Destiny is sculpted The passion of youth Molding a masterpiece Time is unyeilding Chipping away the details The marble soaks in the pain Cracks trickle chaotically Death bombards innocence Worn and weathered Building dreams of clay The beauty in life fades Some find solice in destruction
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 11:07 AM UTC
Unyeilding
I could have loved you like a meadow (forgiving and resilient, fluttering with your every word) but you only wanted a small amount of solice from the wreck in your body and your heart couldn't be big enough (couldn't be soft enough) for everything I was willing to hand over to it. I don't think I'll ever stop trying to give every piece of me to people who aren't ready to take it but if I have to continue I would prefer to give all of it to you. I'm so scared to settle but, god, if I'm going to settle anywhere I would want it to be wherever you are.
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Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
I drank a lot of wine
He would always wear my ring- giving me his full attention; he would lay there- with me, he listened to the music. He listened to our songs. And she carries my pouch, the one I made for her coins. She carries my artwork- a piece of my mind, my imagination- one of which that even escapes my own memory- I know she carried it, Wherever she went. And with a silent , namelless love, He uses my bookmark. The one I made for him.   I know, at every ending, to every story- It's there.   A simple ring, a coin purse, a bookmark; like the unity of a song we all listen to at once- we're pushed together, bound by memory, and immortalized in such fleeting feelings.    Isn't It Strange? That within these three mundane objects I take solice.
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Feb 23, 2023
Feb 23, 2023 at 10:38 AM UTC
Isn't It Strange?
Gravity Pulls Our forms to be Us Forciose things and full of wonder Coalesced A singularity Yet Light gives  sight To halo Rings cast black by the unknown. As Matter found in vapor  form, gives lift To humbled fret For This A contract , duelly met Is thee Unbalanced bet Thus of this the arch of spark The metronomal Mark Are Atoms and matter Space and time Those truths of ,Light and dark With tools so crude To flame From spark Creation  cold and stark From this Reclusive Alcamist A Sentient being adrift And Rue and refuse the piety To gods of gastsly note So due I hail Thee full of spite Destroyer Jubilant Respond to you Of you no word Shepard Nought of Herd Of countless time With rhythms rhyme Reiterate Time spent Oh creature coward Faceless you Our saviors son's decent Who gave to me a hand of sand The grains, owned by the ****** And woe of he The ward of space Gate keep Absent grace Riddled with A failing mind Our Blessed Heathin ***** For Surly plans unknown, unwind Of what he Has In store This An empty Formulaic Tombe of ancient tune speaks this  code A wayword  vice Absent paradise In higher planes he finds abode Neglectful father form And finds he solice As He Demands Souls For Evermore So faceless form Unmask thyself Disarm With Your Descent For us The mortal Masses Ask nought With no consent
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Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
Neglectful God
She does not lose well... She will not forget. It will haunt her, the favorite pencil.. tip softened perfectly, A paw, pushed it somewhere to a secret spot. Out of her vision...her reach.   A peice of paper elusive, yet there... lodged deep amidst A stack of most important things. She does not lose well... Not in terms of Games or Competition.. but the things in her life that Envelop her world. Tough, Scrappy, Beautiful and Oh-So Tender. Holding all things dear and close to her heart Loss is a place of   deepest contemplation for her. The memories she has stored through her life stay alive, stay vibrant, stay with her The immense joy shared. Her deepests sadness; A cachet of stories reverberate within her heart, expanding outward like ripples in a pond. She does not lose well. The Creatures and People that live within the wholeness of her being... Even One pulled out leaves, like a building block, a gap, a tear, a hole in her life. She does not forget, Or minimize the Pertinance of Love, Friendship A moment that has touched her heart. Forever an imprint upon her consciousness. She is permeated with knowledge... the essence of all things. When it is time for The Loss, The breakng of her heart can be felt through all time and space Being filled with divine wisdom and insight, She is able to see all aspects at once. The Purpose. The moment becomes filled with rainbows of light. She will bathe in that Beam...help guide Them Home . She knows how. Knows intuitively what course will be taken. She trusts in the Divine. Her piece of solice, amidst the flutterings of her most  tender, broken heart. The history, the moments.  Living memories, are paramount  in the connection she has with All. She does not lose well. Her grief shrouds her, a mystical shawl. A veil that will hold her dearly till the pain is at least bearable.. Then she will Begin To tell her stories once again.
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Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 3:13 AM UTC
Rainbows of Light
She does not lose well... She will not forget. It will haunt her, the favorite pencil.. tip softened perfectly, A paw, pushed it somewhere to a secret spot. Out of her vision...her reach.   A peice of paper elusive, yet there... lodged deep amidst A stack of most important things. She does not lose well... Not in terms of Games or Competition.. but the things in her life that Envelop her world. Tough, Scrappy, Beautiful and Oh-So Tender. Holding all things dear and close to her heart Loss is a place of   deepest contemplation for her. The memories she has stored through her life stay alive, stay vibrant, stay with her The immense joy shared. Her deepests sadness; A cachet of stories reverberate within her heart, expanding outward like ripples in a pond. She does not lose well. The Creatures and People that live within the wholeness of her being... Even One pulled out leaves, like a building block, a gap, a tear, a hole in her life. She does not forget, Or minimize the Pertinance of Love, Friendship A moment that has touched her heart. Forever an imprint upon her consciousness. She is permeated with knowledge... the essence of all things. When it is time for The Loss, The breakng of her heart can be felt through all time and space Being filled with divine wisdom and insight, She is able to see all aspects at once. The Purpose. The moment becomes filled with rainbows of light. She will bathe in that Beam...help guide Them Home . She knows how. Knows intuitively what course will be taken. She trusts in the Divine. Her piece of solice, amidst the flutterings of her most  tender, broken heart. The history, the moments.  Living memories, are paramount  in the connection she has with All. She does not lose well. Her grief shrouds her, a mystical shawl. A veil that will hold her dearly till the pain is at least bearable.. Then she will Begin To tell her stories once again.
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78
Ladies help define men to stride to be better, And us men without our equal are prisoned in a soundless white room, With sensation and voices dulled by empty cup. The walk without the need to go places, And the time stopped without her presence, While searching for something tangible to grasp. We men are mortified walkers, Without a purpose or cause, And lambs of the butchery robbed of shepherds. We need our guidance, Soul stone of our pathway. The woman of our lives are our equal, The voices where men can have sanctuary, Our inner solidarity and piece of solice. They are our inner home, Our kingdom of fortitude, The fortress of our essence.
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Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 10:22 PM UTC
The Kingdom, Fortress, Our Home
Life obscure in hiden peril My heart is opened to your blazing fire Eyes wide open to all your desires Seeking solice from oricles of delphie Future dreams of past and present going extream in thoughts of heaven A touch of minds of ivory towers A dream of floating high seaking your silken powers my fate is sealed with a single kiss But to act in haste could end in waste
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Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 11:52 AM UTC
Seeking...
Lady by the lake She walks by waters misty blue As dusk settles across the lake She lights a latern to lead her there To the other side her gentle stare In lightest blue her dress of silk Reflects the moon lit night He's captivated by her dance He waits for her though she is unaware He calls her but he she does not hear He shows him self to her yet he she does not see A spirit she awaits to set her free He takes her hand but feels no warmth her side Untill she feel secure she only hides He holds her close and leads her to the shore He kisses her neck so soft she breathes once more From her silent reverie she now awakes She screams of fear and darkness from her night But strong enough his love will hold her near She twists and turns her spirit not yet free But echoes of his beating heart breaks free She allows him gift her body quivers see But now real love and passion she can reveals Not control but warmth and strength surround her She finds herself excited by his warmth For now she can be loved also protected and not scorned And sails unfold as they begin to drift A journey new way of love they make Into a waters sensual awakening Of love she wakes from silent reverie Her body gently laid across his chest Strokes her golden hair across her breast She finally feels free of evils quest In the morning the light through shadows play He lies there as her slipsaway Her spirits to the lake returns in her beauty For only night can capture her solice still she fades away to lakes side call She glances up and catches his eyes they burn she waits for the evening once more But will not be free FALLEN ANGEL
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 7:01 AM UTC
Lady by the lake
Lady by the lake She walks by waters misty blue As dusk settles across the lake She lights a latern to lead her there To the other side her gentle stare In lightest blue her dress of silk Reflects the moon lit night He's captivated by her dance He waits for her though she is unaware He calls her but he she does not hear He shows him self to her yet he she does not see A spirit she awaits to set her free He takes her hand but feels no warmth her side Untill she feel secure she only hides He holds her close and leads her to the shore He kisses her neck so soft she breathes once more From her silent reverie she now awakes She screams of fear and darkness from her night But strong enough his love will hold her near She twists and turns her spirit not yet free But echoes of his beating heart breaks free She allows him gift her body quivers see But now real love and passion she can reveals Not control but warmth and strength surround her She finds herself excited by his warmth For now she can be loved also protected and not scorned And sails unfold as they begin to drift A journey new way of love they make Into a waters sensual awakening Of love she wakes from silent reverie Her body gently laid across his chest Strokes her golden hair across her breast She finally feels free of evils quest In the morning the light through shadows play He lies there as her slipsaway Her spirits to the lake returns in her beauty For only night can capture her solice still she fades away to lakes side call She glances up and catches his eyes they burn she waits for the evening once more But will not be free FALLEN ANGEL
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42
Only echoes now remain of they A silence that became louder year by year More deafening than the reality of the suppressed truth Then it was out louder than an explosion The truth emerged and in that moment Solice became a possibility Justice an equality Not an orchestrated privilege For it had long been hidden Hidden by lies told by those who knew Those sworn to protect A small group of inquisitors The truth would have brought change The truth however bitter would have ended it Yet they did not air that truth, oh no A group so powerful they changed history No they re wrote it as a ********** Tomorrow so it seems they bury their leader With honour and pomp and ceremony Yesterday you mourned the victims Left to die like cattle slaughtered But soon you may vanquish the conspirators Tonight sleep as your 96 do Be at peace for the truth has aired Lady Justice now is in balance and wields her sword
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Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
96