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HesitationIn the midst of battle,
the young man hesitates.
He tries to remember his training,
but its all a moment too late.
A swing and a miss,
the cold steel slices clear.
The young man feels death's touch;
Hesitation costs him dear.
The light dims, eyes flutter shut.
His heart slowing, doesn't realize whats what.
A mistake costs dearly, in this game called life.
Tasting death's knife.
Isolated Isolation Inside the Insanity of InsomniaIsolation
Writhing, squirming, living hell
screeching, squealing, can not tell
where the road begins nor ends
just blindly follow the constant bends.
Rushing forth into unknown,
push and shove into the zone
of your comfort, your well-known place,
somewhere that you can show your face.
from yourself, your life,
from that damned and bloodied knife
Take it deep and take it all
into your cavity and fall
onto the floor of the castle you built
with nothing more than your shame-coated guilt.
Hubris of man, sins of the past
come to relive at the bottom of the glass
that you so willingly raise to your lips
just to taste it, taste it against
the cold, decaying bits that make up your flesh
and leave it with nothing but the best
Isolated from all that you know, knew, had
because you took without considering who was mad
It wasn't I, for I am not
the newly formed pile of rot
that you see every time you steal a glance
At your personal, little hell
that you so happily, wrongfully, built so t
HonestlyHonestly, I'm half asleep
I'm slipping in the brink
of despair and torment
just to try to catch a wink
My sleepless nights,
and endless days
are tearing me apart
just to see your gaze
I know to move on
and I know just how
but alas I cannot subside
my desire, just now
Manifesto of a PyroIf we set fire to the world, no one will suffer more
if we set it all ablaze, the corrupt will purge for sure
If you burn down this castle, back to ash
Our names will forever last
As the man who started anew
with just a match, a dream, and you
Loyal like a StrayHe’s loyal like a stray,
Right down to the tee,
He’ll follow you to hell and back
And shred you with his teeth.
He’s loyal like a stray,
He’ll stand strong by your side.
Just take heed, he’s a stray,
His loyalty is just a guise.
I have StrayedFar along, had I come
In my journey towards the old.
Progress had I believed I made,
Though my kindred were cold.
I’d tried to go on,
Tried to stand tall;
But alas my knees
Gave in to the fall
I don’t ask for strength,
Don’t beg for forgiveness.
No, I am Asatru, Strong
And don’t falter to weakness
I have strayed, over time,
No longer give gifts to the Gods
Life has decayed, such a crime,
But I still face the odds.
I will right this wrong,
Fix my problems on my own.
The Gods will remember
How I grew in the cold.
My name remembered,
Etched into time;
And take back what’s mine.
I may have strayed,
But no longer am I weak
This is my oath,
My vows I do speak.
So I'll just keep WaitingOne day I’ll get mine
One day that thing will never come
So I’ll keep waiting for that day
That day that it will rain
The sun stopped shining,
So long ago did the clouds form.
Blotted out the sun,
And the love was so warm.
One day, it will come,
The sweet rain will wash my face
And I’ll finally smile, free,
And feel that love’s embrace.
But it won’t come,
It never will reach me.
That day won’t come.
So I’ll just keep waiting.
Precious DoveYou ask me why I’m rather sad
but its because you just can’t see pass
The fact that the only reason we can’t be
Is because of the distance between you and me.
I gave you my heart, ripped out the blackness of my soul,
To make room for your love, worth far more than gold.
And yet no matter what I do, tried, or thought
I was always nothing more than a fat piece of rot
I will never be the man, that you so much adore
Because you killed off that prick when you left me some more.
I ripped out my flesh, torn asunder my heart
Made plans for the future, for love, just for it to all fall apart
You don’t talk anymore, don’t acknowledge I’m here.
Why won’t you love me? Say hello? What do you fear!
What could I do differently, I would destroy the heavens above
If it meant I could have you, just you, precious dove.
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
lost my voice.I wrote "I love you"
in the sand at the beach.
The tide swallowed the words
and drowned them
before I could speak.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
Loving A Guy Who Cannot Love Himself.Firstly, tell him that he doesn't necessarily need to be the “strongest” man in the world,
that if he cries, you won't look down on him for it,
that you won't call him weak.
Tell him that he doesn't have to like sports, or fishing, or football, or any of the “mainstream” things that boys are “supposed” to like.
Let him know that liking art, or dancing, or singing or acting doesn't make him gay, doesn’t make him any less of a man, it just makes him who he is.
A human being.
And for goodness sakes, tell him that blue does not have to be his favorite color, than he can indulge in pink, or purple or even magenta!
And to the girl who take on the task, remember please, that it is not always the Knight who saves the Princess.
No, this time, the Princess may need to save the Knight.
Do not pour your problems onto him, rather, balance each other out.
Be a shoulder to cry on. A friend to be there. A love that never leaves.
Perhaps more than often,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
The Weeping ClownShe doesn't love me,
I'm just a name.
Trying to cling to her,
As she rises to fame.
She doesn't need me,
Nor does she care.
Because to her,
I'm rarely there.
Behind the scenes,
Pulling things 'round.
No one notices,
The weeping clown.
No one looks,
Nor do they ask.
They just assume,
He has another task.
"Too busy" they say
"To be questioned or stopped"
"Just let him work"
"He doesn't talk"
Never do they
That the weeping clown
Is really me.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More