"migliore"
   come fai a sapere se il tuo meglio era abbastanza buono se non fosse abbastanza buono ~Venjencie©                      

(translated from Italian into English below);

                 "Best"
      How do you know if your best is good enough if it was not enough? ~ Venjencie©

#miglioreBestWrittenByMeAbtMeOn04122018AnnaVenjen­cie

"Depression" #writtenviaVenjencieArnold
                  I.
When your voice becomes raspy & dry with words that are empty, without meaning, Your eyes still see all,
Your ears still hear all,
Oh, close my eyes goodnight like you would to a soul that says goodnight, Stuff my ears so they may not hear the cries.

                II.
Oh lay my body down so it may not fall, I'm paralyzed without the slightest motion, in the same token I'm filled with boundless emotion, Movement of fears, Movement of tears, Oh lay my body down so it may not fall.

                III.
I feel as if when you look at me I've become less than the puppet that I once was, I feel as if when you look at me you see a body stuffed with straw, Oh lay this scarecrow down so it may not fall.

             IV.
I no longer hold shape, I'm bland without color, I'm unable to stand on my own, I used to be loved by so many that I've known, Only if my mind could follow my body's steps... no memory recall, Then I won't know if you choose to let my body fall.

               V.
My eyes hollow like those of the hollow stuffed men, My heart is beating, I'm still bleeding, I'm full of emotion like an explosion in the ocean. I have memory recall, My ears still hear all, My eyes still see all,  Oh lay a penny on my eyelids to secure them that may stay closed, Stuff my ears so they may never again be exposed.

               VI.
Lay me down with the worn out scarecrows or where the Lilly's grow, You no longer know that I use to be a human body with a brain, heart & soul, Oh just lay this body low, Maybe God will soon take my soul.

~SacredInkedBlood ©Oct042018 Venjencie Clifton Arnold

Imprisoned by my Addiction'

The harmless things that causes an addiction that consumes, like cancer,

See my confession, about how my addictions are destroying my health, my life, my relationships and everything in between, the beginning absent of odor,
Spinning around my mortal being are vibrant healthy hues; yellow, blues and greens,

Thrusting me, flying sky high, only to nose dive instantly,
Wishing it to remain, My passion, my comfort one in the same; words that must be written.
We're programmed to all 3, reading, writing and pursuing passions ...important qualities to own,

Somehow captivating me,
I hardly eat, much less drink,
I'm overwhelmed to express thoughts into words,

Another relationship dies as the neglected ink dries.
A pale unnoticed ghost while present or maybe not,
Maybe my lover, the warden.

I come up for breath only long enough not to drown, reality hits, the ghost disappears,
I don't search, seek or try to persuade them to return,
I say every time, just let me get these words scribbled to vent, then after, I'll go and gather them up,

Compares to Christmas morn, green, red, gold, silver and blue,
the house, the tree, the gifts,
The house is adorned with eccentric polished crowns of refined jewels, interest fills you while rushing to open the shiny gifts, Uncontrollable enchanting words, enslaving, shoving the gifts against the glittered wall,

Chained in the same prison 24 hours later, exhausted, nearly comatose, I wrestle the sleep, becoming feeble, compelled to sleep, only to suddenly awaken, lunatic mode, panic stricken crazed rush, forced sleep, words got neglected, when there could have been much more!

Welcome to my addiction, the dark hole where words incarcerate tempting thoughts,
What, change the situation, you said to me? I'm handcuffed to pens that bleed, beleaguered by enticing verbiage.
~Venjencie Arnold -SacredInkedBlood
.
My life now. Writing, reading and research. I cant get enough. © 11 days ago, Venjencie Arnold   addiction • colors • prison • word • beleaguered

Another poem leaks out of my eye,
Why tonight, I cry?
No matter how hard I fight,
It still rolls down my cheek tonight,
Forcing my ink to write,
Poetry disguised in the form of tears,
Now on paper as a charcoal's smear,
They travel from within my heart,
They gush out and up breaking it all apart,
Then they make it up to my eye,
From my lid's they drip,
Forming into ink from my finger's tip,
What happened to gravity?
Another night's catastrophe.
                                        ~ VenJencie (01/26/18)

Dovrei essere proprio come te, Cuore di ghiaccio nero, Sii gentile, Un amico, come creare un'illusione, nella tua mente, sii vicino, fingi di essere reale, un modo per conoscere, i tuoi sogni, i tuoi piani, la tua prossima mossa ,

Quando vedo le tue aspirazioni, che ti portano avanti,

Essendo un maestro manipolatore, come te, pianificherò astutamente la tua caduta, come un giullare, ridendo con la folla, che sono convinto che tu sia sempre stato, nient'altro che quello di un immutabile intimidito.

Sei davvero solo un codardo, hai paura di qualcuno, fai solo uno sforzo per fare ciò che è meglio, hai paura di qualcuno, che non è nemmeno una minaccia per te, o per la posizione che occupi.

Dimostra la tua superiorità, fiducia in te stesso, essendo orgogliosamente audace! Il tuo orgoglio, la tua arroganza, la tua ignoranza, la tua cecità e la tua ipocrisia...

NO, non potrei mai essere come te, rovinando gli altri come fai tu, pensavo di essere lo sciocco, ora vedo, ora ** pace.

Quindi prego sinceramente. "Dio apri il suo cuore, per accettare la tua grazia straordinaria, attraverso di te, conosceremo entrambi la nostra parte, il nostro posto, e se non presto, allora in Paradiso, avremo

un'eternità da rifare. "Sì, ti amo sorella mia in Cristo!

- VenJencie Ⓒ Autore Ven J. Arnold

"Inked Vein's Bleeding Sins"      
(written by me on April8th2018).

  You mentioned, "Why write 'coz
            nobody even reads
   them much less clicks like,"
   Maybe that shouldn't be a
     question, maybe you ask...
        who are you writing for,
       them? or for you & your
                soul's sanity?
   If you answered, 'for them'
  then maybe it's not your
                 reality? 
 I write 'coz my inked blood vein's bleed what everyone calls
                        sin;
I write for their sins, I write for mine, I write the sins committed  by soul's since the beginning of time. I don't write to make up some dope thyme. I bleed the sins committed by soul's before
          the beginning of time.
I write about sins committed by all mankind; those committed in heaven, in earth, under earth
   and everything in between.
  I know our ONE & Only Perfect REDEEMER, already shed His precious blood to cover all sins
               like a flood.
  I write for the sanity of my afflicted mind, I write from the blood that's on the sword that pierced my very soul.
I write so maybe our sins can be covered & we're made whole. I write 'coz I feel God's Holy Spirit in my soul. I write to claim His
       victory; that keeps Satan's
     demons away from the my soul.
                     ~Venjencie©

I just meant to lay my head on your chest,
For no other reason but to hug you right,
Then I realized for the first time after many a night,
That your heart was beating at it's best,
I smiled and wanted to cry,
          But Instead,
I silently thanked God for giving me the sweetest lullaby,
last night before we went to bed.
    ~SacredInkedBlood
©2018 Venjencie Clifton Arnold
Sweetest Lullaby (see) Author Ven J. Arnold on Facebook.

'Imprisoned by my Addiction'

The harmless things that causes an addiction that consumes, like cancer,

See my confession, about how my addictions are destroying my health, my life, my relationships and everything in between, the beginning absent of odor,
Spinning around my mortal being are vibrant healthy hues; yellow, blues and greens,

Thrusting me, flying sky high, only to nose dive instantly,
Wishing it to remain, My passion, my comfort one in the same; words that must be written.
We're programmed to all 3, reading, writing and pursuing passions ...important qualities to own,

Somehow captivating me,
I hardly eat, much less drink,
I'm overwhelmed to express thoughts into words,

Another relationship dies as the neglected ink dries.
A pale unnoticed ghost while present or maybe not,
Maybe my lover, the warden.

I come up for breath only long enough not to drown, reality hits, the ghost disappears,
I don't search, seek or try to persuade them to return,
I say every time, just let me get these words scribbled to vent, then after, I'll go and gather them up,

Compares to Christmas morn, green, red, gold, silver and blue,
the house, the tree, the gifts,
The house is adorned with eccentric polished crowns of refined jewels, interest fills you while rushing to open the shiny gifts, Uncontrollable enchanting words, enslaving, shoving the gifts against the glittered wall,

Chained in the same prison 24 hours later, exhausted, nearly comatose, I wrestle the sleep, becoming feeble, compelled to sleep, only to suddenly awaken, lunatic mode, panic stricken crazed rush, forced sleep, words got neglected, when there could have been much more!

Welcome to my addiction, the dark hole where words incarcerate tempting thoughts,
What, change the situation, you said to me? I'm handcuffed to pens that bleed, beleaguered by enticing verbiage.
~Venjencie Arnold -SacredInkedBlood
.

Looking upon you, through my blue eyes, but I can't lie and say it was unintentional nor did your imagination make me up, Let's never say goodnight nor stop after the virtual sunlight. - Venjencie Clifton Arnold
My dearest Omni, let it be me.

When I write, you say, "it's a reflection,"
When I write, you say, "it's an affliction;              
       it mirror's my heart's true direction."
YOU prophesied my soul's final
destination!                    
                                ­               

Will you be there to witness the outcome      
                             of your own prediction?

"I'm just another puppet,
  I'm just another tool; like a pigeon on  
          the Devil's stool, one more
                               fool that, The Master of
                                                     Deception,
                          uses to create confusion!"

I must fail miserably for it not to be a clandestine activity!

Who am I to argue with someone, who    
     has a set of detective tools, like you?  I'd hate to be so objective, besides,
who wants to be that predictive?
Surely not me, surely not you!
             ~Venjencie NightWriter69