

The Sycophant's Prayeri come to thee, O glorious Lord, palms turned t'ward the deepening sky thine heart sore impure for Your Grace that i forsake a runagate shunned from the comforts of Your heeding eyes i come to thee, O Lord, palms stained of Your mistakes...The Sycophant's Prayer
Onto these knees scarred I fall afore the glory both You and I longingly seek within the depths of my eternal soul I have dissembled faith and fable true the runagate scorned desperate in the cleansing barrens held at Your feet cast me again in these teeth bared and clenched from upon your golden perch- t


The GauntSleeping days, days come night the solvents clean from within inside feasts upon the cooling birthright the gaunt he shuns the unbroken mirror side.The Gaunt
bleached are the bones sliding 'neath the rotting skin ever unaware these wounds may never fucking mend
Between the rises she tries to defy her sense of worth and weight the gravity pushing and pulling rusted levers in her mind to seek again and find that one perfect sign...
bleached is the porcelain sliding 'neath fingers' grip


The LamentI miss the way it use to be the good old golden days when I believed the answers which I sought to seek were just a mere hug and a kiss away.The Lament
I miss the way it use to seem as though each tomorrow's dawn would bring the comforts of last night's sweet dream the memories of innocence- before they fade.


TortureSometimes I like to torture words with obscene acts to nouns and verbs. I tie them up in sentences and whip them till they make no sense. I love the screams of prepositions while pulling them in odd positions; and conjunctions make a lovely din when decapitated by my pen. I bind the wrists of adjectives just for the pleasure that it gives and adverbs leave me hot and bothered once their meaning is uncovered. Interjections beg for release with pronouns trembling on their knees. And once my fiendish work is done, you'll find that I have just begun myTorture


The MagicianI know how to tempt with metaphors And shine words like smoked glass - Hot and deliberate syllables, Teasing taboos in fertile minds, Cracking the polished surface - All the better to beguile you with. I love to string them like beads - Vibrant and colorful shards That cut deep And leave interesting scars To flaunt at private battles. I like to snap up letters, Phrases to undress you - Intriguing and unpredictable - Twisting them into precious amulets, Wrapping them around your heart, All the better to adorn you with. I love following their tThe Magician


glass jars01.glass jars
We used to keep our wishes
in glass jars to save them for later.
We stored them on the shelf in your office. Your cat knocked mine over
and it splintered into eleven shards. I cleaned it up and replaced it with an
empty identical one
and I never told you.
07.
We would sit on your back porch and peer into your yard at
the fireflies, little flittering orbs of orangey-yellow, and youd say how they were like small specks
--
You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for
Turn out the light
Don't try to save me
You may be wrong for all I know
But you may be right
--
Nobody ever said I was sane.
98% of the teenage population does or has tried smoking pot. If you're one of the other 2% paste this in your signature.
"Empathy" it is truly appreciated.
--
tis better to hated for what you are than loved for what you are not~anonymous
Do you love someone because you need them? or need them because you love them?
--
She has no heart but she dreams in old fashioned ways. - K.W.
--
"A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti."
hope you enjoy your special day.
--
~January 22~
It's January 22nd which means it's your special day. Hoping you have a fantastic birthday, get some nice gifts and generally get to enjoy it lots.
All the best and much love from the birthdays team to you
--
Birthdays Team
This birthday greeting was brought to you by : `zetab
A birthday rhyme for you
on your special day
Monday's child is fair of face.
Tuesday's child is full of grace.
Wednesday's child is loving and giving.
Thursday's child works hard for a living,
Friday's child fears no foe.
Saturday's child has far to go.
And the child born on Sunday
is bonny and wise in every way.
find the day of the week you were born here [link]
More about the rhyme: [link]
--
No one gets out alive all we can hope for is
when all is said and done more is done than said
I wish you a wonderful day,
I wish lots of fun and laughter and happiness!
--
Let me decide... give me the chance.
My stock account [link]
--
[link]
No matter what they told you, you're not alone.
Instead of counting candles,
Or tallying the years,
Contemplate your blessings,
As your birthday nears.
Consider special people
Who love you, and who care,
And others whove enriched your life
Just by being there.
Think about the memories
Passing years can never mar,
Experiences great and small
That have made you who you are.
Another year is a happy gift,
So cut your cake, and say,
"Instead of counting birthdays,
I count blessings every day!"
--
Love that lives in the heart cannot be so easily terminated by time. Even though the encounter is brief its impression shall last a lifetime. No one can change the direction of love that lives in the heart. If you have loved that in itself is the answer.
--
-Lauren
"I am a very important man. I have a tower."
--
You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for
Turn out the light
Don't try to save me
You may be wrong for all I know
But you may be right
--
I and I sit still, (Where-as playing.)
Tongues wrapped
burdened and scotched...
--
Sohbet
--
--=[ Explore my Gallery - [link] ]=--
--
"Streams and rivers are welcomed into the ocean. Accepting everyone, no one is left out. When one knows one is part of something larger than oneself, one can relax. The river floods when its banks are full. Respect your limits; just do what you can do".
--
Headmaster Marcus Turner at ~Essen-Academy
Men should never marry their muses. It ruins the illusion.- Stana Katic
Kimlex The Obsessive Smoke at =org-nu
--
The old picture on the shelf
It's been there for a while
A frozen image of ourselves
We were acting like a child
Innocent and in a trance
A dance that lasted for a while.
-Your Winter by Sister Hazel
This is nearly hard work.
Gah!!
--
It's not the fall that hurts. It's the sudden stop at the end.
No wait. It's everything.
--
It's not the fall that hurts. It's the sudden stop at the end.
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