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The Legend Of The Lone RiderLone rider perched on thy hilltop
Protector of the land you call your own
Hero of justice, Wielder of might
Your mystery to be told is a treasure to behold
Riding on thy noble steed
Breed from the strongest of beasts
Mighty wild uncontrollable, untamed
Faithful only to your reign
Legend speaks of you ,the mightiest of men
Roaming the fields with thy speed unmatched
In pursuit of evil to slay, innocence to save
Rewarded with nothing but fear and reverence with thou is lashed
Where thou comes from no one knows
Beyond the mist -mysteriously appear
With a sword as sharp as your mind
leaving nothing but dust at your hind
Shadow of death for those preying on the weak
Messiah for those you save from a ghastly fate
Thou words echo in every valley
EVIL DOERS BEWARE!
They say your sword is as mighty as thy word
But no one sees it and lives to tell the tale
A mystery only legend speaks of
Slayed an entire army with mighty gail
Oh lone rider! So fine thy mystery to behold!
No doubt your story will
These WordsDrowned in words of sorrow
Left with no hope for the morrow
piercing my heart like an arrow
are these words you have said.
I realized it was all a dream
and hence carried with the stream
to a darker place
where all my hope has been deemed
Slouching against this cold wall
wet are my eyes
beaten and battered a rag doll
casted away with lies
All my dreams shattered
and all its pieces scattered
and the darkness around me gathers
into this soul that has been battered
-by these words
A Soldiers LamentRunning headlong into the fray
Seeking retribution for which i pray
reconciling myself to stay
till the end of this fateful day
I slayed so many, not for fame or glory
But for what is dear, for a future bright and sunny
And as i parry, remember for what the weapon i carry
For all at home, dear friends and family
Now that the day had ended
Redemption is all i wanted
From partaking in this charade
Please wash away my bloodied stains
Now my wound's have healed, but scars remain
an eternal reminding, for sins that are blinding
An intrude on my inner sanctum
By ever soul ive killed on random
These scars are my regalia
the essence of war embedded in their core
like a parody mocking my existence
another reason for my exitance
from this blood stained page of life
Don't Look BackDont Look Back
There was nothing for you here
You lived in perpetual fear
So, move on and don't look back
There is no potential that you lack
People hated you, people hurt you
Yet you stayed and witnessed this charade
As it took your soul away, scared you
So now i tell you to bade goodbye
And don't look back, don't look back
I'm with you every step of the way
Holding your hand, leading you out of this fray
Wiping your tears off, reminding to be strong
helping you out for no matter how long
so you will always have a shoulder to cry on
So move on
And don't look back
Find a better life, away from this strife
Away from this shit you once called life
And let this prayer shield you from grief
Move forward, turn a new leaf
Don't look back
Don't look back
Just CryI know you've been holding it in
And for me that's even a bigger sin
and when there's a silver lining so thin,
there's nothing else to do, so,
Your friends have left you, you've dissolved to Abyss
How could it ever have come to this
So take this heart felt kiss and give it a try
I would say big girls don't cry
If i said that, it would be a lie
you've been hurt, and it gives you more reason,
for now and every other sad season
And I want you to know, that I'm
With you every step of the way
On this ugly path on which you stray
and with your head on my shoulder, I pray,
For you to be better on another day.
But for now, Just cry,Just cry
The StreamThe stream flows, so calmly, devoid of worries.
It flows around my feet, so subtly, so gently,
caresses my shell, drifts past me
reflecting my life as it passes
It flows slowly but surely
like the times as they change
cleansing my ways
reincarnates my soul
Let me be this stream
carelessly flowing, everlasting, pure
forever facing the sky
unlocking the shackles restraining me
never worrying about another lie
The sun sparkles on its surface
rays of light dancing to its command
in all its youthful embrace
im lost in its grace
this is a warning.i.
The first thing you need
to know about people is this:
If you cut off our head,
we will grow two in its place.
We will divide and conquer
until there's nothing left
but tiny gaping mouths,
clacking and salivating
at the crumbs of an empire.
They tell me hurt is like
a paper cut:
quick and forgotten,
Hurt is the first step
off a balcony,
the first gasp
in a chain reaction
screaming from the railing
to beyond the pavement.
When I finally hit the ground,
I looked up and saw my halo
dangling from the edge,
He said, she said,
I wanted, he lost, she won,
I ruined this, I broke your heart,
he left me,
I miss you.
This is nothing new.
Your tragedy is always
what's it like to realize
every slash on your soul
has an identical twin?
What's it like to know
you're going to die
the same way everyone does:
scared and alone?
We are disposable.
The hydra g
Peter Pan EnvyWe molded pirate ships
from heavy storm clouds,
flags puffed up
and scooped out
like handfuls of sand
while the car windows
steamed in the cold.
You told me stories
of a boy in green
and his war with
the hooked man,
said they took
those like us
to the first star on the right
and straight on to morning.
You made me believe
and when life got hard--
mom hopped up on pills,
nights filled with demons--
I breathed wishes
to be stolen away.
No pirate ever darkened my stoop
with his wayward compass
or water-stained maps;
no fairy ever left glitter
smeared on my skin
like good dreams.
I look to the sky
when the wind blows
and hold my breath
with his name on my tongue
all the same.
War and CancerI want to go back
and meet us one more time,
before the war and the cancer
took up so much of the day -
before my father could no longer
remember what the present
was supposed to mean
and your mother
could still get dressed
without losing her way.
I want to know
what it felt like
to board a plane
to somewhere hidden
and not care
if our names and faces
to walk as long
as we wanted
without the sun and moon
creating an argument.
I want to feel you
roll into my arms
where I forgot to cut the grass
and you did not
water the flowers;
to hear you
watching the cardinals
unearth the spring.
And to know once again
how this place
started becoming new.
The Re-Prettify ProjectBreathing in silver filaments
will not make you pretty on the inside.
You cannot polish and buff
lung or aorta
until it is shiny and new.
If you have filled your life with toxins
and allowed your eyes
to cloud over with coal dust
do not, my friend, do not
seek silver linings from anything
but penance and kindness.
Throwing gold-dust over your head
will not administer you a halo.
SeptemberThe summer was so hot
the dogs stuck to the sidewalks
with the newspapers
and the black metal cans
everyone left waiting on the curb.
You could smell it
in the glass pitchers
on table tops,
and the sheets that never
dried on the clothes lines;
the canvas beach bags
mothers dragged wearily
across the sand
and the ice cream trucks
melting across the highways.
Children felt it open
up the windows at night
and find a corner
of the bed to smother,
while fathers baited it on hooks
or mowed it down
in flat, dry stripes
as if begging each other
And the crickets just hummed
beneath the corn silk
and the dry mouth
daring the cats to play
hide and seek -
searching for September.
thirstYou tell me to breathe in
the scent of my tea:
Apple Cinnamon Spice,
it is crisp and infusing
the aroma into my lips.
Honey coasts along my spoon,
apple biting into its
golden flavor. Cinnamon bursts
forth for a brief moment and I am
It was so suddenIt was so sudden.
It was so fast.
It was so scary.
We were so happy.
It was the best.
But the thunder fell.
And now there’s nothing left.
Note to SelfDate a librarian; they'll read you until your spine falls apart, and still love every page. They'll underline your highlights, your endless seas of profound poetry, as if they've mistaken your manatee appearance for a mermaid. They'll hang off the cliff of your chapter 15 and dive into the next page as if you're about to reveal what they've been looking for. And when they don't find it, they'll tear out your words letter by letter with a hush, asking you oh so sweetly to stay quiet. Finally, they'll bind your broken spine with tape and set you on the shelf for misplaced books until they forget you were ever there, but they won't be done with you. They'll never be done with you; even when it seems your pages, your rib cage and heart, is filled with nothing but dust.
Is it work tryingis it worth standing up, just to fall again?
is it worth crying, just to wipe the tears off in vain?
is it worth working hard , just to go unnoticed?
is it worth living, just to die in pain?
life is short, i agree.
but in that time is making a really difference worth it?
is it worth it when people will eventually forget?
forget about your triumphs, your hardships, your failures?
things that mean the world to you,
but less to others than the roadside stray.
while you fret and enter the fray of life,
millions pray for a better day.
is making a difference for them really worth it?
for the answers, one must ask themself
"do i live for myself or for others"
thus i say
finding a purpose in life is really worth it.
How It Began"God, your two o'clock is here."
"I have a two o'clock?"
"He's been here since 7:45. I figured it's only polite to... sir."
God sighed. "Fine, send him in."
While He waited God cleared His desk of papers and blueprints; no need for outsiders to see His plans. Soon enough the door to His office opened and God stood, smiled, held out a hand towards one of the two visitor's chairs.
"God! Great stuff you're doing in sector 2-7-0! Great stuff!"
The man's hands were clammy, his handshake limp. Rumpled suit, porkpie hat, briefcase... oh Jes-- oh dear, a salesman. God's smile slipped a little but He soldiered on gamely. With luck He could shoo the poor guy away in a few minutes.
"So, what can I do for you?"
The man sat, briefcase across his knees. "Sector 2-7-0! Everyone's talking about it! What do you call it? Man and merman?"
"Man and woman, actually. And thanks. But we're pretty busy around here, and..."
"Oh! Right! No time for the wicked, eh?" The salesman winked and popped his briefcase,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More