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DemeanorThe frame of mind
we have inside
can change the way
we see today.
A gloomy cloud
can cause a frown;
the sun above
fills us with love.
The outside world
changes us within,
but it should be
Our self inside
can change the world as we know;
we just have to let it out,
and let it roam.
Today was a good dayI slip,
into the vacancy of the cosmos,
where the sun,
a burning cyclops eye,
I soar, and,
when I return,
I speak of my journey
around the stars, behind the moon,
to a place where Pluto
is no bigger than my thumb,
and a star can be crafted
into a beautiful diamond ring.
DoubterScattered, fragile dreams,
destroyed, on the ground
no more. Alas,
reason shot them dead-
a spray of skeptic bullets
coming from our mouth, our mind,
our friends, our enemies.
"Nothing is impossible
but everything is distant."
REALity IS reLetIvE"Eat healthy," mom always told me. "Eat healthy, because I don't want you to have a heart attack in your teen years." And I always listen to her, even after my teen years, and eat healthy by barely eating at all, and having a cup of herbal tea once in a while like she says. Because mom's always been here with me, walking where I walk, sitting where I sit, following me with her advice always handy, and I don't want to disappoint her while she's here.
But at the same time, I know she isn't-is she? I saw her dead all those years ago, I saw her lowered in the ground, her calm face looking up from the shiny black coffin, which lay on the green tarp they use at funerals, and I put a blue rose on her grave, which cut my finger, and I knew she would never be there to bandage me and kiss my cuts and scrapes.
Or did I? Because after the funeral, she joined the others who walk with me, one of the many who speak to me, and told me to make sure that cut didn't get infected, to put some Neosp
Ashes to AshesI stood in the middle of my soft forest clearing, soaking in the pleasant night as I waited for my guest to arrive. Ignis isn't going to be late, is he? I wondered, running my fingers through the creases of my brown dress, and looking up at the moon-less sky. No, he's never late; he always comes when least expected, though, according to Tempus-
"Terra." The sound of his smooth, light voice made me turn my head, and there he was, standing at the leafy entrance of the clearing. He wore a silky black tuxedo and shined black shoes, along with a red tie to match his orange hair. A perfect smile was stretched on his face, and for a few seconds we simply stared at each other, he with his green eyes, and me with my dark brown ones.
"I'm here," he said finally, walking into the clearing and towards me, stopping about a yard away from the place I stood. I resisted the urge to smile in delight; he was comp
RFS- Part 3She snapped her fingers, and the chain immediately released the grip on the Streamer's windpipe, returning to normal size around his neck, and he collapsed on the ground on all fours, gasping for breath; he was mostly breathing up sand, she noticed, which caused him to break into a coughing fit after a moment.
His breathing slowly quieted as air refilled his lungs, and soon the sound of his breath mixed with the light breeze that had picked up. She turned away from him, thinking of the right way to answer his question.
"You know I was asleep, brat; don't try to deny it," he snarled quietly, causing her to wince a bit. Even when they'd met four years prior, he'd liked to call her "brat". "You still have that stupid sensor in your glasses, don't you?" he snapped, starting to stand up.
Soon he was at full height, towering about a foot above her, and she looked up into his eyes, calmly meeting his glare. "Yes," she said, straightening the glasses, which sat on the bridge of her nose
Hello, hello, helloHello, hello, hello.
Is that you behind the door?
I haven't known you round this way,
since many years before.
Hello, hello, hello.
I can hear you by the sink.
I'd offer you a cup of tea,
if you had lips to drink.
Hello, hello, hello.
I thought you might drop by.
You always loved these barn-storm nights,
when lightning cracks the sky.
Hello, again, hello.
In the draft I feel your touch.
It does me good to know you're near,
and hurts me just as much.
Hello, my dear, hello.
We shared such postcard bliss.
It cracked like lightning on that night.
A dark night just like this.
Hello, a soft hello.
A nothing sort of fight.
I dashed a plate against the wall.
You stormed into the night.
Hello, my love, hello.
I hoped that you'd come back.
By wind-blown door I kept my watch,
and felt my still heart crack.
Hello, a long hello.
The years have left their mark.
My hands are cold; my eyes grow weak.
I'm left here in the dark.
Sit down and say hello.
I'll go pour that cup of tea.
I haven't lo
Let Venom LieMore than I could bother to resist.
Though I know how it ends, I begin.
Break each promise off my list.
Bleach and menthol can't clean away my sin.
If I calcify, then what is left?
Polluted vessels itching ever more;
A poisoned, bloated soul bereft;
Each last shred of the self I deplore.
I would break my bones to slake a thirst
Bubbling back stronger with every snap.
Fighting off screams before I burst.
Brick myself in with my own sweet trap.
Each line I spin will sing tomorrow -
Sell it like silver and watch it grow.
Lies can tarnish just like sorrow
Becoming the secrets my parents need to know.
CluesI’ll give you clues
They’ll be there
It’s your choice
Or to ignore
I gave you clues
They were there
And now they’re gone
But I saw none!
Instrumental nothingnessCapitalizing on the fears you hold inside so close
The ones you try to hide and run away from the most
From fake façades to false fronts the walls built so high
The entire world sees teary waters collect in reddish eyes
A sleeve is often meant to cover certain tender flesh
Yet this is where passions lay displayed for all the rest
It should be effortless to control a part of you
But why is it so difficult when emotions go askew
I know logic is folly and that I am no machine
So how does one control a fiery love lined passions unseen
LibertineI could feel sky rising from an empty
corner, the lifted skin on my arms in
muddled pattern drift to the open sea.
Moral assumed and cursed what looked like sin,
but without this expression I’d be done.
Would you rather squashed shells of men on floors?
I bet you would. Would sooner shove and shun
than take another look and try new doors.
Romp and run to free dance over quicksand,
showing the far better side of living;
on the other end suppression disbands.
Feel it cup your centre, see it flying.
If I feel like setting myself on fire,
I’ll do so without the world’s desire.
In times of dark and despair,
In times of test and trouble,
I refuse to be in this bloody rubble.
I have much at stake,
that is up to take,
and slide in the Devil's wake.
For my friends sake,
I will fight on.
Because he is worthy of this par take,
above my grave, the bloody lake.
Mind in Madnesscan you see what coils inside?
behind these sleepless, weary eyes?
a chaos, i cannot abide
yet within my thoughts it lies.
A drum beat or a lambent cord
pulsing deep inside my skull
i pray my sense to be restored
yet the drum beats never dull
Swirling, like a vortex storm
ceasing not, its twisting ways
again i pray, for lucid form
and wait for brighter days
such a mind, in madness caught
beseeching, clarity to come
yet all my prayers i know are naught
this inner tumult leaves me numb
Heart of the Woman IIHeart of the Woman
What will glow like fire every night?
What will shine like the stars?
What will glimmer so brightly
That one will see it from afar?
What will have value more than precious stones,
More than silver and gold?
What has a price so dear when bought
But never should be sold?
Men, if you don't know, then ask your wives; if they don't know, then ask Puabi.
No LimitsSet me boundaries if you wish,
but it won't do a thing.
My imagination is always going far,
past almost everything.
Borders, they won't hold me
back from what I think.
I have to many ideas in my head
and I'll have to spill my ink.
I might mess up the first few tries
of saying what I know.
But practice always make prefect,
and I think that's going to show.
I want to go past my borders,
beyond an empty sheet.
I want to cover it with writing
that makes you want to think.
So give me boundaries if you wish,
but of them I will break out.
I have too many ideas to hold back,
and with them I'm going to go all-out.
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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