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Literature
Life
There are only two paths in life.
The one made for you and the one you make.
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Literature
and i'm sorry for everything, but not for this
he looked at me the way
i looked at myself and 
that hurt worse than anything he said to me.
are you proud of yourself
you must be so fucking proud you must think
you're so
smart
but guess what 
you're not
you're not
you're not(hing).

i let the wind whistle back my answer,
let her blow through me and
suction the air from my lungs,
let her fill my veins with
something numbing,
let the feeling flood from my extremities under his
cold gaze and
i became immobile under his stare
under the glare of a disappointed father with a
wreck of a child, a child that couldn't even
speak up for themselves a child who
couldn't even stand up straight couldn't
keep their gaze away from the stars and
stop daydreaming about
counting how many steps they could take on a railroad track before they became
as flat as the penny someone left two paces back
as a token they were going to give to their
best friend but no,
all his child ever wanted to give to their best friend was
an invit
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Literature
gold mining
alphabet
language ore
yields words
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Literature
Sisyphean Expansion

Such a small number
Of horned, defenseless giants
A dying bloodline
With just one calamity
The last shall be extinguished
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Literature
Rizum's Riddle
A sensation stirs deep within
A demon who yearns for desire.
Pleasure seems fantasy
as love filled emptiness.
The demon wishes to devour more,
yet none of it is true.
But if all of this were real, then
Who would be the consumed one, Rizum my love?
Power overflowing
as fantasy is reality.
Bonds will be broken
to unleash the true demon.
Her hunger can’t be satisfied
as her appetite expands
With unlimited demands.
Who should be the consumed one, Rizum my love?
Some oppose this fanatical reason,
but the demon proclaims that they
had yet to taste what she lusts for.
She ignores them for others
who are made to worship her blindly,
uncaring for all but her expansion.
They are the perfect sacrifice.
Who will be the consumed one, Rizum my love?
For a singular instant, the demon
rests herself on to the floor,
pondering if she had ever felt more before.
The spark was quickly extinguished
as she recalled her fiery passion
for a hedonistic lifestyle
That called for more of vore.
Who could be
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Literature
dibujo
Lsto
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Literature
The Rowboat of Cannibal Ghosts
Come unbidden,
They ate the can
of the
Soul,
A lady
Goat whispered,
As their
Murderous Ship
Carved in
the Cloud's of
Hell,
left it's unspeaking
jaw's,
removed from
torso
separated by the
anxiety
of once having
been alive,
behind,
& the mourning
songs of
Love a
victory never
to be
one, vs. a
scab's trick
at destroying
History,
Pulled dust
out of
the throat
out of
a swallowed
soul, that
pointed to the cannibal flag
made from skin.
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Literature
Drain the sorrow
Cold and numb I cannot feel
Doubts become a locking seal
Tears burn behind eyes of grey
I no longer want to stay
Depression takes all control
Happiness the gem it stole
Sorrow drowns the flame inside
Death will slowly bide it's time
Self loathing overcomes me
Hold me down til I can't breathe
Hear my cries of sorrows lies
As my strength will slowly die
I crave to feel warmth once more
Love and happiness to store
Blindly I reach out to you
Hoping for a chance anew
Your presence lingers aglow
Drain me of all my sorrow
Pull me up and hold me close
Leave my mind fully engrossed
Kill the negativity
Let my eyes finally see
To your body I will clutch
So I can feel your warm touch
©masokitten
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Literature
Afraid of Greatness
Why are we so obsessed with being great?
I must confess these days it's lost appeal,
That drive to be the person to create
A new phenomenon more real than real.
We only think of fame, not rivalry,
Of sheer acclaim, and not of burdens borne,
But with the founding of a dynasty
Come rivals aiming just to see it torn.
I want to show a grandeur not my own,
To show off what no man could ever make,
A place of natural beauty, overgrown,
Whose spell I dare not by my own hands break.
Let not my monuments see light of day,
But make my humble life a passageway.
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Literature
The Alienist
Mentioned to watch
No thanks
Lived it
The details are sketchy
He was censored
Although he had sense-word
He was the canary
describing the mood
of the population
Mental illness
And living outside
your true nature;
what that might be
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Literature
Horse and Rider
one by one the lines fall off
revealing scars under the cloth
war of a time under the moth
bridled still but led to the troff
one by one the lines fall off
laying in the rain soaked dirt
dirt that clodded mends the hurt
hurt that then refuels the birth
one by one the lines fall off
the pace increases to a sprint
war paint marks a face in print
hooves on rock reveal a glint
one by one the lines fall off
a war torn rider heads for home
beyond the shore scattered with foam
less longer a rider to roam
one by one the lines fall off
fall off
fall off
fall off
fall off
one by one the lines fall off
in search of trail under stars
a relic lost of ares and mars
a tribute of forgotten czars
one by one the lines fall off
and horse and rider find their broth
one by one the lines fall off
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Literature
The Costs of War
Everything had gone on like it always had, cities and towns bustle with the plethora of work, just to bring food onto tables. While at the same time men, women, and children in the other hemisphere face struggles that seek to steal their freedom and life. Below their feet, my feet, there slumbered numerous weapons of war. Indeed did everything normal to us continue, until the mighty roars of the awakened titans of steel did make ground and building tremble and shake. Panic and desperation combined with fruitless attempt to preserve themselves, much blood was spilled by the hand of desperation, revealing the savage animals that escaped their mental cage. Fruitless were our attempts! But through some type of sick mercy, many still tell this tale, after a costly price paid.
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Literature
My dremel
Sometimes you need to spin it really fast.
There are some tools fulfilling this desire;
Some spin screws into wood all in one blast,
Some spin an axle, turning wheel and tire,
Some spin a blade, serrated or bejeweled
With diamond or bright sapphire specks to scratch;
Some spin pictures so fast the eye is fooled
To think the motion live, the brain to match;
Some spin the rods to crankshafts, pistons’ strokes,
Some spin the kinder blades of cooling fans
To dissipate unpleasant heats or smokes,
And some spin protons, checking bosons’ spans.
This culture, built on spinning as we see,
Bequeaths a useful spinning tool to me.
2/22/2018
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Literature
Tattered canvas
Tear my flesh.  
Smear the wall.
Bloody streaks
Down the hall.
Pull me down  
Make my pain.
Have the tears
Fall as rain.
Break my heart.
Kill my love.
Cupid's arrow
Slays the dove.
Hit my body.
Dull the nerve.
Your desire
I shall serve.
Please look here.
See me cry.
Find the love
In my eye.
You don't care.
You won't see.
These feelings
Killing me.
-The Actor
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Literature
Why Is It Failing?
My legs tremble and my hands shake
Standing in this field, memories of existing become hazy
I wonder if it'd be better for me to just take it in:
The poison of this flower. Why am I here?
Bodies rushed about and sped around me,
All frenzy with a high excitment
Who was going to score? But this field had already won
Please don't look at me... Please don't look at me...
I was transparent. Want to get noticed yet not wanting to be seen
The wish had been granted, and the glass cracks
Why was I there? Why should I care? Hope never appeared
They made the mistake of trusting its abilities
It immediately fails, struck with clumsiness
And that's why no one cares, leaving it aside to rot
I know exactly why it's so, yet I don't understand
"Hi! How are you?" I look at the vibrant flowers. Disgusting
"Sorry 'bout that!" I growl and rip one out from its root
"Are you alright?" Why have pity on me?? I touch the large petals
"You did great!" Shut up! How am I supposed t
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Literature
Tears of the Madman
Late against the passage
To the dew—
A chasm of the dawn—
The sky no more—
Sea of the Heavens
All of shades;
And sirens within.
Sleep...sleep...sleep...
So these are the tears
So these are the tears
Of the madman...
In the masks of the moon,
And the feast of the inner leech
There are shooting stars below—
Just a little above the ground...
I can see the rays pass by
But I never see them in the sky.
I wanted to bind you
In silk...love without a breath—
I shall take these stains;
Seal them in my stock and store—
And bear them to the grains
Of your farther shore—
And hope your soul can see
How beautifully
Death has been a guide to me.
© 2018 Marten Hoyle
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Literature
Fnaf Song- Children's Revenge
Laughs of joy,
Were silent in the night.
Tears staining our ghostly face.
We screamed in sadness and rage.
We were blinded by anger,
To see his pain.
Ignoring his crys for help,
And gave him, our smiles.
But now we see... his sorry eyes.
We growled at the sight of him,
And craved for his death.
Revenge what we wanted, make him feel our pain.
We'll make him pay for his deeds.
We were blinded by anger,
To see his tears.
Ignoring his pleases for help,
And gave him, our laughs.
But now we hear... his sorry voice.
He came back, and destroyed the animatronics.
We were free, but still wanted... Revenge.
He sprung into the suit,
And got, Springtrapped.
Our blindfolds were removed,
To see the man that we trusted.
What we heard, turned our sad full tears,
Into regrets.
We were blinded by anger,
To see and hear the truth.
Ignoring the words he said,
And gave him, our pain.
But now we know... he's truly sorry.
"What have we done?"
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Sleepwalker by Pessimist-Poetry Sleepwalker :iconpessimist-poetry:Pessimist-Poetry 0 0 Love in the stars by janeenmg25 Love in the stars :iconjaneenmg25:janeenmg25 0 0 III Aim by Thecoming2014 III Aim :iconthecoming2014:Thecoming2014 0 0
Literature
Flame
I watch this flame pass
from match to wick,
gently stepping over
a great divide.
This flame and I
are not so different:
it comes into being from nothingness;
it eats and grows, smokes, and rests.
It gets angry,
destroys homes,
consumes flesh.
Sated, it becomes calm,
retreats into coals,
smoldering through the night.
Domesticated
by a piece of string,
it makes its home in a cave of wax.
It chases the shadows away
and stands watch through the night.
It sways
and dances in the darkness
before it is extinguished
in the blink
of an eye.
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