She looked up from her desk, piled high with financial charts and business proposals. A spirit began to take rough form before her.
“What do you want from me?” She managed to choke out the words.
“I beg you to stop.”
“Why must I stop my life's work?”
“Because you are only considering this life.”
The image of the spirit now became clear. It was herself, twisted in such a state of complete agony.
The spirits whisper on a chilling wind
As the blood continues to flow.
I can hear the demons screaming within
As the darkness continues to grow...
Humankind will always be foolish;
Rash decisions are an instinctive need.
But how could they have forgotten our ways;
Tradition is lost to greed...
The zealous will kill the innocent again
As the greedy play out a game of chess.
A book of gods becomes a creed;
It is a ragged shell at best...
My sisters die in the tens of hundreds
And innocent girls are slaughtered like swine.
I'm afraid that in this dying world;
The God of Blood shall dine...
The blind shall follow in his burning steps;
They will see within him a flame and fire.
And he knows that the hearts of passionate men
Are easily laced with glorious desire...
In dreams he calls and grants them strength
He sends his 'angels' to enchant the night.
He turns the blind into seeing creatures
And robs them of the light...
But it is h
the stuff I imagine heart attacks
are made of
I'm bent on selling you a handful of smiles
to distract you from the fact that
I have almost nothing to say
and now you're steering this conversation
in a direction that suggests you've
forgotten that I
don't watch movies or do much of
anything but work which maybe
explains why one glass of wine gets me
wrapped around you
car to streetlight
breeding curious onlookers and my insurance has
you're leaning in and all I can think is
I don't have insurance
The last time we fought, she punched me in the chest. Her knuckles broke, but my heart shattered like ice.
I've learned that there's more to strength than muscles.
I'm beautiful because I know my flaws.
There are girls that hide their beauty, and there are girls that flaunt it. She is neither.
She wears ripped-up Converse and old clothes. She smudges her mascara and still captures boys' hearts with her playful smile.
I'm a lover because I'm a fighter.
Her heart beats like a war drum. She plays with war paint and she'll fight for love.
Didn't you ever wonder why Cupid's arrow is stained with blood?
I'm fearless because I have been afraid.
A slender girl with flickering eyes. That's how I imagine her. She pretends to be afraid, but she's fierce like a tiger.
When she's with me, I'm not scared of anything.
I'm wise because I have been foolish.
She's full of wishes, full of promises and careless goodbyes.
She's made mistakes
happily adoring, innocently obeying
I saw you yesterday,
As you began your daily chores.
You awoke without kneeling to pray.
As a matter of fact,
You didn't even bless your meals,
Or pray before going to bed last night.
You are so un-thankful,
I like that about you.
I cannot tell you how glad I am,
That you have not changed your way of living,
O Fool of mine
You are mine.
You and I have been going steady for years,
And I still don't love you yet.
As a matter of fact,
I never will.
I hate you because I hate God.
He kicked me out of heaven.
So I am going to use you,
As long as possible,
To pay him back.
You see, Fool,
God Loves You,
He has great plans in store for you.
But you have yielded your life to me,
And I am going to make your life a living hell.
That way, we'll be together twice.
This will really hurt God.
Thanks to you, I'm really showing Him who's boss in your life
Pairing: Spiritshipping [Johan x Judai]
Genre: Romance, AU
Disclaimer: I just own the plot
Warnings: Characters a little OOC, yaoi
Summary: Sometimes it's better to not think about love
Johan checked his reflection in the mirror. His black t-shirt polo was carefully tucked in the slim boot jeans that fitted his athletic muscular body perfectly. His royal blue hair was neatly messed providing the peaceful and noble aura that seemed to surround the bluenette wherever he went. Every detail of his attire had been examined and carefully reviewed for that night. That special night.
It was his first date with Judai and he was really nervous. The blunette glanced at the dressing table, searching for anything that he might have missed. Wristwatch, check. Wallet, check. Cologne, check. He sighed. He was kind of early for the date - a whole hour to wait.
Still feeling uneasy with his app
the damage done-
You can't relive
those lonely years-
You can't resuscitate
someone who has
long ago since drowned...
And you cannot mend
a broken heart
with the use
of a simple
of what you speak?
The rotten fruit from which
you've bitten and consumed,
has truly brought to you
the seeds of idiocy.
What have you done,
to comprehend such words as provocative?
As pure and professional
are the letters that I form to art.
Doubt I that you
know a significant thing.
The ignorance you so proclaim,
is the fear from which you flee.
You dread whatever is misunderstood,
and without reason do you lash outward
with teeth and claw,
like some rabid beast, tormented by disease.
In the end, the clarity has marked
that yours is the feeble mind.
Yours is the debate of madness,
and the indecency of your own nature.
In the end, you know nothing,
because you are nothing.
One must wonder WHY, seeing as how change is what makes the world go round, it cannot be stopped, it can only, in some cases, be contained, however briefly.
We change the world with every breath we take, with every thing that we do. It is unavoidable.
Now is where I begin to make a lot of sense, and where because of that, I irritate a lot of people.
"Organized religion", by it's very nature, is resistant to change, all major religions have at their heads people that at best are called "conservatives", or at times "fundamentalists". At their worst, they are known as "fanatics", and there is nothing more dangerous in this world than a religious fanatic, because they are filled with a "righteous fervor" that they feel excuses anything they do, as long as it is "in the name of God".
They fight to keep things as they are, all the while not realizing that everything they do causes the very change they fear.
I'm bewondered as I stare
With these hands I can build a wall
around the gardens I hold dear
But with these hands I can tear them down
leaving not a single brick unturned
With these hands I bring life or death
What I give Your eyes discern
So I glance at these hands of mine
ignorant to what they do
I notice not if they break or build
Not knowing the fate they lead me to
We’re the only creatures on Earth who claim to fear loss but don’t fight to win,
Who claim to hate pain yet still continue to destroy themselves.
I sometimes wish I could reside on this planet alone…….
Free of anyone here confusing or hurting me,
But then again, no one will ever be truly free from anything.
one-way plane tickets
were going to
set her free
[fool, you cannot
outrun your mind]
Knee-walkers, their hands becoming ugly feet.
They amble slowly, lips curled into sneers,
Smooth backs parallel to the concrete floor.
Their heads are bent low, inviting another
To imitate the mating rituals of their idols.
A herd of rhinos. They congregate
In a world where such animals are alien.
Sans horn, these mocking men and women
Step into the leathery bodysuit, green-gray armor,
Of the feral beast they seek to emulate.
Pretending pachyderms. Mad men.
One stops to eat invisible grass,
Masticating on the air, jaw hinge exercise.
Two locked in war, skulls crashing like croquet balls.
They ricochet, only to return with equal fervor.
Untuned trumpet. One tramples ants
And stampedes wildly out of the door.
Who are these mad pretenders?
Why am I found among their delusions?
Have I surrendered all of my human intuition
For animal instinct, brute passion, ferocious fire?
Why do I graze on concrete with my friends?
I stand alo
Sent the lion
To the wardrobe,
So she could
c h a n g e...
But in the end
She found that
She had changed
r o t t e n...
The witch holds
A knife behind her back,
Holding onto her inner chaos
Until the end of
t i m e...
Desolate, and cold,
The hungry lioness
Trudges ever onward
Through the freshly fallen
s n o w...
It's cold here...
when we tear our limbs to fly &
you are made of more than
ice box pulses in your wrist &
dusty coffin beds or so
you like to think.
Fresh volcanoes are under construction
Pressure words feed the flames as the red time bomb ticks
In good time there will be an eruption
Beneath the calm surface strained patience erodes
Mental claws tear taut restraints asunder
When the tethers are broken the mountain explodes
The resounding roar rains down like thunder
Verbal fire and brimstone smash through fragile walls
When enraged angry flames are sadistic
Vicious red foam bears down as the invader crawls
Looking back this seems quite masochistic
Self inflicted results may give birth to regret
Learning won't help if it's far too late
When the mountain calms down it will never forget
Those who push too much get no clean slate
When the smoke clears away the result still smells acrid
Though the flames have now died there is heat
Each frustrated barrage leaves a mark just like acid
Charred results still find ways to taste sweet
I’m cradling the cracks of blemished memories,
And wishing that zooming stars actually did grant these silly dreams,
Foolish visions hoping that we could actually grow from this,
But I just say my vision is senseless,
So once I’m disappointed with result of what I’ve witnessed (Which is bound to happen);
Disheartened with the fact “stars” don’t grant wishes,
I won’t be so distraught over seeing something that wasn’t even true;
Disintegrate into nothingness.
I almost wish it never appeared;
That this thing fell apart before it even got here,
Before the particles of once was,
Spread and lie within the deepest crevices of my grey atmosphere.