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"unequalled" poems
She’s the last of the fairy tales. The mobs came with pitchforks and torches. The ashes of the golden era stains her skin. Her magic dwindled, wounded by the sins of man. She seeks not revenge, nor justice. She seeks punishment. I have been the guardian of her heart; A heart she feels she no longer needs. There will be a day where it beats again. Not this day. On this day she waits in the dark, Waiting for the day her memory is forgotten; The day her tragedy becomes a myth. On that day, reckoning will come To remind them their cruelty is unequalled By the spirit of a fallen star. On that day, I will be her harbinger. On that day, I will resurrect the memory They wished would stay buried in the depths. On that day, the hearts of man will cry for mercy, Only to fall upon deaf ears... Because I made a promise. Cross my heart, she’ll never die. Look your devil in her eyes.
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Mar 24, 2021
Mar 24, 2021 at 11:51 AM UTC
The Pale Princess Part III
PaSsiOnS CoLLiDE (10w x 8) Love Comes in bright...or jaded hues varying...in intensity Unknowingly, you'd cross someone's path tomorrow ...it suddenly happens...when--- Feelings concur, .....ideas jibe...falling, into right places... Soon enough--- Feelings cOmBiNe, Molecules ExpLODE PaSsiONS CoLLiDE At some point.......UniTE... Heart no longer traverses rough waters just watches flames burning Though orange embers die, true love stokes its fire ..........tirelessly It's wiser...to capture....relive those blissful, unequalled moments, ..........................when, Feelings cOmBiNe, Molecules ExpLODE PaSsiONS CoLLiDE At some point...UniTE... Sally Copyright January 19, 2016 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 5:52 AM UTC
PaSsiOnS CoLLiDE
An angel chief--the precentor of heaven's Unequalled choir--silvery and dulcet was his Voice afore the throne of God and his fold; Lovely and fair his appearance was to behold. Hearken to him as he the King's celestial Hymns leads that give adoration to his especial Majesty, making melody along with the angels Whole, while praising Jehovah in awe dwells. But how soon would this angel change and be Clothed no more in chaste grace and glory,   Rather in pride and pity! I'm more than ye all Who in paradise live. I'm the foremost of all Beings. Who're archangels Michael and Gabriel Compare to me, Lucifer, the only greatest earl? I the highest and the best-- sovereign being-- That towers above Christ the Son begotten; I'll even God usurp! I'm the most powerful Here; the morn star that's blindly beautiful! Haughtiness so into him entered as cupidity into Judas. And began he to say things profane to God his Creator, the Maker of all. And thus War there was between the defector's caucus And the Lord's host. Michael, who's the principal Of warfare wherefore Lucifer--the evil cardinal-- Engaged. How fierce beyond a running pen Was that battle unspeakble in God's holy haven Seen betwixt the faithful and the rebel! Yet good unflinching conquered the uprising evil And cast Satan straightaway down unto the earth With one-third of the angels from heaven's berth.
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May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 6:33 AM UTC
Grace to Grass: Lucifer's Fall
Writing prompt of the hour: mandrake oh poison, what poison doth whisper in my ear race through my veins like molten metal cause the hottest summer to season in my mind echoes a terrible trembling in my tingling limbs it is mandrake, oh such deadly shade of night that raises me to the floor luring my knees to my face in unequalled gross distortions oh mandrake, thou art a shade so deadly as to make the blackest night quiver now this poison makes strange ineluctable rhythms gradually and patiently enter my body, my thoughts like a gradual orchestral cadence of static melody subtly wisping around my whole being. destructive mandrake now scampers in my blood becomes inseparable and lives in me in fiery flocks of hallucinated concepts. it fires through my body like burning sulphur this mandrake, this poison that has prolonged persistence makes an experience of antediluvian treachery from another time, not of this time, this present, this now this here mandrake has embalmed me to the red roguish clay I die ghastly from a writing prompt mandrake, mandrake, deadly nightshade fuqing mandrake
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Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
Mandrake.......
What can the spawns of Ahriman say, that hasn't been said before What can  Angra Mainyu linage do that hasn't been done Children of Jahi the ***** fathered by The Opposer himself When the Ghost of ghosts spawned his offsprings in Hades Did he not promise them the world and declared it his Did he not remove the dusts of damnation from them And send them down to continue his dominion of fire Once the second exalted but twisted from his arrogance He faced down the Omnipotent Light and sought to usurp From thence on banished in eternal shame he remains The Ghost of Ghosts spawning his demons and ghouls The pretenders without light or hues washed in satyr's milk Disciples of extraction of the purity of the sinless inoncents Henceforth they seek ********** over the joys of Creation Killers that **** with all deeds and actions the Glories of Light Ghosts who opened Pandora before Pandora came alive Who plundered and ravaged as their master solely intended To destroy all the Magnificence of the Omnipotent Creator Who stands unequalled Pure and Mighty in His Golden Realm Ghost of ghosts fights on earth with his spawns multiplying Master of wickedness doling out false knowledge to ghosts Covering them with false beauty and riches in ****** minds Take your poisoned rewards and destroy to live like kings For I make you children of destruction and ghosts without souls Soon you will all come and burn forever in undying molten fire
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Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
Ahriman's Children
Three short words don’t seem enough The implications they emanate is pretty heavy stuff They’re said easily by some, stuttered and stammered by the timid Fear of rejection reigns in most hearts, making it tough They’re three little words I’ve longed to feel and say To someone with whom I’d spend a lifetime in a day A person whose mind and body is joined with mine in exaltation Who’ll play a song in my heart, without making my soul pay. Three words meaning volumes when said to another The words often said with different meaning by a father and mother A commitment to stay to the end of the play A standing ovation for devotion, applauding one another Three words made of clay, two artists mold with care Fired in a kiln, and decorated by the pair Their free flowing form, it’s beauty is unequalled Worth millions to them, but to others only change to spare When the three are uttered, stopped in place by the feeling No drama or games, when it’s unexpected makes it appealing. From the heart, with sincerity makes these words come easy We all know these three words , that send your heart reeling.
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Apr 20, 2010
Apr 20, 2010 at 1:16 PM UTC
Three Words
Author. Nothing his radar Escapes. All things he knows, Even the wind that blows. All gods ere him stoop, bowing Together to the majesty in Heaven's realm. Great his manifold Wonders. Excellent every craft And work of his hand. The world Whole waltz upon his golden cart. Man, the opus of his creation: The only in his image cast. Unequalled in form and fashion-- From his first to his last. Nought exits that was uncreated; Nonfictional be the Genesis' account. Scores of theories scientists great invented-- All, Scripture and faith, does discount. In awe stand: the Alpha hail; laud the Omega.
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May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 3:20 AM UTC
Man, the Opus
Do you remember me? The quiet girl who sat behind you during class; I'd always give you my pencils The girl EVERYONE laughed at, except YOU... Do you remember me? The only one who wrote letters to you when you removed your tonsils The ONLY ONE who'd listen when NO-ONE ELSE would I remember you... Golden brown satin hair; unequalled beauty- almost surreal Perfect brown eyes, they matched your hair "why couldn't you feel what I feel" That mischievous smile, hiding imperfect ivory teeth your imperfections made me weak I remember your laugh... Cute and silent, the purr of bliss and comfort It's sad that WE couldn't be... I would have loved you more than anyone had.
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Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 6:34 AM UTC
Do you remember me?
mothers love is unequalled woman God knew no other to bare His Son
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Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 5:14 PM UTC
Mothers love
If I am colour blind, Is what I see wrong? If I throw something out and you collect it, Is it unwanted? If you say I am beautiful and I say I am not, Cannot I just agree with you? If you give me a compliment, Who loses if I take it? Is it OK to take what I need? Yes please!! If at first I don’t succeed, Should I try Tai Chi? Will the sun come up tomorrow? I hope so it’s cold enough now. If I am unique, Would I be unequalled, incomparable and unmatched? If I get cold feet, Can I stay and warm them? If courage is the ability to do something I know is difficult, Should I be pleased with myself? If the job is next door to impossible, Is it best that I go there? If my problem is all some-ones else’s fault, How did I contribute to it? If I do everything perfectly all of the time, Would I have more friends or be more loved? If I can think about what disheartens me, Can I think about what inspires me? If there is nothing I can do about it, Should I do something?If If I always stuff it up, Am I exaggerating a bit? If exercise is a ***** word, Can I jump in the puddles? If kindness is currency, How much should I spend on myself? When I give up, Can I call it a time out? If I see a pink polar bear Could it be green?
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Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 1:50 PM UTC
Flip Side
Man: My princess, I love you even beyond the sunset If your love taste like wine, I will always be intoxicated by it. Just what if, it is to come like fury? Like a blast, It will unleash its fury, and consume the forest to ashes. Woman: My prince and my lord. You say the words, But even the heavens can tell you don’t mean it. It is a crystal picture of deception. Your love is so deceptive. Perhaps, an apathy of melancholy, my heart brands it. The sensation of what you call love, Is with a thousand and one pains. Man: My queen and my perfection, The secret reason behind every smile my face bear, The source of my strength and happiness, Can fire burn without yielding smoke? Can the ocean flow without its tide? Or can the earth exist without the firmaments? My precious beloved, my pride and my everything, If your love is the air I breathe in, I swear on my existence, I cannot live a moment without you by my side. Woman: My eternity, my rare diamond, and my purest of treasures, Your confession for love, sweeps me off my feet, The awesome smell and splendor of your presence, Has made my heart tremble and terrify at the blast of your incomparable personality. Your golden declaration, Flatters my heart with the hopes of being with you. My sweetheart and my heaven sent, In the absence of any hesitation, I wish to affirm my unequalled love for you alone. My perfection, I love you so much
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Feb 9, 2020
Feb 9, 2020 at 11:52 AM UTC
A LOVE DEClARATION
To you I am grateful Unwavering and graceful You have been my support You alone hold my heart By my side and never gone Through all I have said and done Unequalled in idolatry My rapture, nirvana, and ecstasy “You’re not in this alone” You blare through headphones “Follow your bliss” The one I never have to miss “Burns a hole through everyone Who feels it” never alone O Music I thank you
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Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 8:55 AM UTC
You
The following is not a paid advertisement. It is the truth. It is arguably plausible for me to state that I received the best secondary and higher education in the world. I graduated from Phillips Academy (more commonly referred to as Andover now), the oldest boarding school in America founded in 1778, two years after our nation was founded. Andover and its sequel, Exeter, it seems, now take turns being voted the best high school in the United States. Though I received an essentially unequalled secondary education at Andover, I paid an exorbitant social and emotional cost to receive it. The years I spent at Andover were the worst of my life. I chose to matriculate to Columbia College, the tradional undergraduate liberal arts school of Columbia University, over Yale for principally two main reasons:  the Core Curriculum and New York City. More years at Yale would be like returning to Andover, anathema to me. The Core Curriculum, now over 100 years old, is a rigorous, two-year course of studies that include philosophy, literature. art, music, language, frontiers of science, and writing. All College students, regardless of her or his majors, must take all the Core courses, which, in turn, make them learned for life. Columbia College is the only Ivy school to have anything like the Core. Living in and exploring New York City, the veritable capital of the world, for four years makes one a Citizen of the World for life, even if one decides to reside elsewhere after graduating, as I did. I now live in Boulder, CO. Columbia College's 2019 admit rate was 5.1%. Columbia College admitted a few over 2,000 applicants out of slightly over 42,000 applicants worldwide, making Columbia College the second most selective school in the Ivy League. 5.1 % admit rate:  that's about 1 out of 20. But even Columbia has its "bad apples:"  Roy Cohn comes to mind readily. So does William Barr. But it also has Barach Obama. 84 students who studied or professors who taught there won the Nobel Prize. So what to do with this piece CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT? It sees to me that the maxim  DO UNTO OTHERS...is rapidly being supplanted by CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT? Our political leaders, who have never been paragons of virtue, have for 3 1/2 years have become, in a word, corrupt. The Washington Post has authenticated more than 15,000 lies emanating from the Oval Office, not to mention the cheating, the racism, and the ****** CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT? is the new adage these days. I say "Make America A Democracy Again!" should be.
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May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 12:19 AM UTC
CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT?
The following is not a paid advertisement. It is the truth. It is arguably plausible for me to state that I received the best secondary and higher education in the world. I graduated from Phillips Academy (more commonly referred to as Andover now), the oldest boarding school in America founded in 1778, two years after our nation was founded. Andover and its sequel, Exeter, it seems, now take turns being voted the best high school in the United States. Though I received an essentially unequalled secondary education at Andover, I paid an exorbitant social and emotional cost to receive it. The years I spent at Andover were the worst of my life. I chose to matriculate to Columbia College, the tradional undergraduate liberal arts school of Columbia University, over Yale for principally two main reasons:  the Core Curriculum and New York City. More years at Yale would be like returning to Andover, anathema to me. The Core Curriculum, now over 100 years old, is a rigorous, two-year course of studies that include philosophy, literature. art, music, language, frontiers of science, and writing. All College students, regardless of her or his majors, must take all the Core courses, which, in turn, make them learned for life. Columbia College is the only Ivy school to have anything like the Core. Living in and exploring New York City, the veritable capital of the world, for four years makes one a Citizen of the World for life, even if one decides to reside elsewhere after graduating, as I did. I now live in Boulder, CO. Columbia College's 2019 admit rate was 5.1%. Columbia College admitted a few over 2,000 applicants out of slightly over 42,000 applicants worldwide, making Columbia College the second most selective school in the Ivy League. 5.1 % admit rate:  that's about 1 out of 20. But even Columbia has its "bad apples:"  Roy Cohn comes to mind readily. So does William Barr. But it also has Barach Obama. 84 students who studied or professors who taught there won the Nobel Prize. So what to do with this piece CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT? It sees to me that the maxim  DO UNTO OTHERS...is rapidly being supplanted by CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT? Our political leaders, who have never been paragons of virtue, have for 3 1/2 years have become, in a word, corrupt. The Washington Post has authenticated more than 15,000 lies emanating from the Oval Office, not to mention the cheating, the racism, and the ****** CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT? is the new adage these days. I say "Make America A Democracy Again!" should be.
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11
I share my body but not my life One of us must survive
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Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 3:47 PM UTC
Devotion unequalled