Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May we always find ways to speak true, act in accordance to the clean spirited, dignified variant of self.

Continually working towards showing as many virtues as I can muster while honouring so many emotions... allowing the feelings place among my identity, transmuting all labours into setting sights on the path that I tred.

With gentle, steady feet, proper pacing while I make my way towards a functional fathoming of existence.

May the consciousness that flows between all beings witness my sincerity and reward me with my deserved earnings.

May continual bravery and courage be present to face all things while still holding presence to respect the self, spirit and others in their many forms and behaviours.

I hope the salt I shed seasons the surroundings with crystalline amplification of what is in the best interest for all entities so we may learn, grow, shift and adapt accordingly.
It's the fuel and the juice
It's the ******* excuse
Some say it's the fathers ruin
It was born of the need
When water needed the ****
To filter out some of the poison
It's was the grease
That we oiled
To forge
The forge
never spoiled
Where our models
Of the future rolled out
Some say
We should cut it
To the smallest amount
But you'll always find me
On the end of a spout.
If animals in the wild
must constantly be careful
then why should we
people around each other
ever feel secure?

L.C.
They always start
With a disembodied radio voice
Over a black screen
That fades up
To a blissful domestic breakfast scene

The voice is halfway through
A mundane story
Then another that hints
At how things
Might get gory

But at the moment
All is serene
This house is where love is
And has always been

It unfolds slow
Stopped clocks
Missing signals
Distant screeching brakes
Then unlikely explosions
As humanity shakes

What is it?
What is it?
What is it?
they cry
Along with the viewers
You and I

We the audience
Know the template
Yet the nervous expectation
Makes us contemplate
If it was me what would I do?
Succumb like a *******
Or survive through
The gloom?
  14h Jimmy silker
Rain
There is a heaviness within me
that never leaves,
no matter what I do,
no matter what I say.

Omnipresent,
like a death sentence:
slow,
cruel.

My thoughts are curses,
blasphemous, dark, vile,
a constant sacrilege
against a power too great
to subjugate.

I'm held in chains,
my humanity a gift
wrapped in a cage.

I try to run,
but it claws at my skin.

Now I'm left
with bones and veins,
dragging myself through the sand
as the clock ticks,
a reminder
that my time will soon end.

My arms flail in despair,
reaching for an anchor
before I vanish
into an abyss
too vast to comprehend.

Yet an echo chants in verses,
a lament of truth
that feels like a burden:

All is fleeting.
Nothing stays.

Love comes in waves.
It drowns you
in euphoric bliss,
where two souls intertwine
for a single kiss.

Then you're alone,
washed up on the shore,
wondering
when it began
and how it came to end.

You bask in the light of happiness,
but darkness always follows,
leaving you cold and hollow.

Only death is certain.
Only you exist.

Others are but mirrors.
Their reflections never change,
a constant dissonance
between who I am
and what I try to escape.

I've been cast out of heaven
to rot in this hell,
among demons and devils
whose desires drip like venom.

Greed in their eyes,
wrath in their hearts,
sweet nothings
masked beneath lust.

Cleanse me of this place.

Burn me:
sevenfold,
tenfold.

Rid me of this plane.

Banish me to silence,
where death does not toll,
to the place where time
exists only as a shadow.
I'll meet you
In the Rothko Chapel
We'll get a private view
I know some people
It'll be no hassle

Fourteen
Big canvas
In various black
We could stay there all week
We might never come back

Or as long as we can't take it
Raw emotion

Mostly dark

Go out through the emergency exit
Into the
Surrounding
Sunlit
Verdant
Park.
Next page