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Why is my heart so filled with sin?
Why must I struggle with this filth within.
Save me Lord from myself
And show me how to love.
It's a bright night.
I might write about:
Thoughts of a fight!
Then a flight from spite...
Don't bite.. You're too uptight.
But don't delight in your plight.
It's not right to skite.
What a sorry sight.
Gotta reach quite a height.
I'm not quite upright
On this bright night.
A broken man, shattered by his lover.
Fallen tears splash in the gutter.
I am sickened by this sinful world.
Why do people have to hurt one another?
Another Day - Another Night
Why do I sit at the computer all day
Whiling weary hours away?
I think the nights must know me well,
Hoping for something to cheer my soul
I fear the sleep that steals my time
And while away another day.
Frustration finds itself in you.
And if you weren\'t such a favoured friend,
I may have never bothered.
But since your friendship means so much
I will throw myself into the depths of despair,
And leave with down-turned face,
The notion of a friend behind,
Who shared my weekends kicking
A ball around a park.
I hope that we will long remain friends,
And with that hope I lift myself from the depths,
To enjoy your company as you freely give it,
And set my sights on the game.
Butterflies of Your Love
A torrent of soft wings flood
over my closed eyes,
as I see myself from the outside,
dreaming of you.
Butterflies (a million shades of white)
caress my face
and flow around me
your diet coke will only make you hungrier(just some wolf with big blue eyes)
I don't know when I stopped using capitals in my writing
Or when I stopped talking as much
I dyed my hair because I was trying to show you
That I didn't have to show you anything
I told myself to stop writing poems about you
As if the days I spend locked in your ice cold glare
Was something I could escape
My mother still screams at night
She has the worst nightmares I've ever heard
And I think I might be going down the same route
I keep telling myself to breathe
That it is okay, and I will be okay
We were never okay
and despite myself, i've noticed it
you don't look at me anymore
Moriah JeanShe was soft and warm.
She was stone-cold.
I watched her, the strength in her
spine, the height in her shoulders,
the wave of ebony silk cascading over her
back - there was an unmistakable air.
But that skin, tight and smooth,
pulled over round hips, curved along
the concave of her stomach, crested
over her breast- a desert landscape.
She was sharp and round in all the
Formed from lightning and sand-
a burst of energy, a birth of
Untouchable, but for that treasured
moment of welcome, that break in
tension, that upturning of lips, pink
The knowing glance, the wanting look,
the low eyes, so dark, framed by sharp
lines and light- they placed her on a
pedestal, but she bent down with out-
She was not a goddess. She was polished
and coy, she was music - a symphony,
and sometimes, the cymbals crashed;
But she knew she was beautiful, and
she knew her strength was in the way
she let the music
Someone ElseWhat's the point of talking if no one will listen?
Of walking if there's no where to go?
Of singing to an empty room?
Of dancing alone?
Of writing what no one will read?
Of having feelings no one will care about?
You have the hope, that one day, one person might
Listen to you
Walk with you
Hear your soul
Dance with you
Read what is important to you
Care about the feelings you do have
And one day I hope
To do the same
For someone else
LoveFluttering, floating softly in the air.
Taken to and fro by the breeze.
Locations seen that could no be believed.
Till the wind grabs and shreds.
A Sirens Song.A slight breeze ruffled plumes attached onto an appendage.
We have searched so far...
Irritation could be seen within smiles.
For so long…
Six eyes watched as the flare from the Sun snuffed itself,
Cursed with feathers…
beyond the horizon.
Adorned to bone…
A breath of lethargy was passed through the group.
Our bodies grow tired…
Heaviness hung in the air.
Too weary to fly…
Darkness was descending.
Enduring days upon rocks…
Anticipation was setting in.
On a tiny isle…
There, within the distance, a slight dot.
A distinct vessel, traveling at a fast speed.
The winds carried to them the shouts of some...
Licking lips in excitement of the approaching storm.
Liners catch reefs, steering it towards their archipelago…
Three heads look towards the sky.
Lives are lo
remember melightning steps
haunt the cargo hold
where they let them
doze off... drunken bastards...
lightning steps -
sharpshooter stab marks (neck,)
a stern mother
the glare... bewitched
to the portholes. memento mei,
as written on the daughter's amulet;
she clutches it unknowingly in her sleep.
(will she burn too?) the night is
young but she isn't
anymore; she doesn't
know it yet.
A God And Ten MenAnd so with Beelzebub we walked through an endless valley of roses.
Softly poking the innards of our mothers and our fathers as we passed their crucifixions,
cackling without restraint at the sounds of their pleas and sights of their tears.
Fifteen years was the day. To the hour, to the minute, to the second,
with age failing to matter to the greater lot of us, those of us who still kept the muscles, vanity, and vitality of our tainted youthfulness,
those of us who still strolled proudly through that ruby land of tortured men and women.
Those marches through the blood and the thorns led to the same place every day,
that clear, stagnant pool of sludge at the base of He-Who-Starved's shrine in the center of our lawless region,
and there, standing nude and shoulder to shoulder before the Accuser we were given a moment to see a reflection of ourselves.
It was always a curiosity to gaze at impressions of myself and my brothers.
In a collection of broken glass or a spit-shined chalice,
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More