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Jay M Mar 2019
Fluttering wings,
Bubbling within,
Rising rains,
Pattering, drumming,
On the trees above,
On your head,
Feet at a steady pace,
Just at the time of the rain,
Drumming with purpose,
But, oh wanderer,
What purpose does your pace have?

Bubbling, fizzing,
All unseen,
The hunger,
The drive,
To hunt,
But you hold it in,
Tame it,
Bend it to your will,
Heal the damage,
Break the vengeance,
The internal fire.

Fluttering wings,
Flying fast,
Coming at you,
Unseen, unheard,
Unexpected, yet expected,
You can’t help but give in,
To the pain,
To the misery,
The void inside.

Your steps have purpose,
Paces planned,
But motions uncertain,
Destination controlled,
Route un-mapped,
But I am here to guide you;
Help you regain control.
Through all of the days of wonder,
Thoughts asunder, scattered about,
Written, flung, separate from one another,
Senseless, but not meaningless,
Each one burdened with purpose,
Waiting to be decrypted,
Brought into a new light,
Kept away from the consuming flame,
The drive of your feet,
May they ever be well again,
To the place you once knew,
The peace to your war,
The home of the soul,
The lair of the internal fire.

- Jay M
October 9th, 2018
Slime-God Sep 2020
The damage is complete.
This is a lie.
This is a ghost.
Nica Monet Aug 2020
I've fallen
fallen off from the perfect image framed of me
for me to embody a perfect daughter
daughter that's no longer me

I was one of the nicest
I was one of the best
Fell off my high chair, can I just lay here and rest?
It feels as if I have to live up
to the things I no longer want
to the expectations not of my own
but of the people that dares to throw me off my throne

The fire and desire to break away grows in me
Yet I'm stuck inside a cell where they claim I'm free
As I stand still in the same root like an old tree
I envy the leaves of life falling when it felt right to flee

I'm no angel, nor do my demons define me
But in this earth,
to look after thyself is seen as a deed of evil
Self-worth constantly shattered
and we ask why people lack the effort?
the effort to be and stay true to ourselves are enough of a riddle
I'm not the same as I used to be, I'm no longer the little me.
Internal conflict within me in the environment that disguises itself as a safe haven to be me. I'm living in a small *** not for a big tree.
Explore my labyrinthian corridors,
From the walls to the hallways, to the unkempt floors.

'Tis in my mind I finally realize,
I have not the time to explore each and every door,

Precious, singular thoughts,
Expectedly drowning,
but in due course,
We are lost at sea in an ocean devoid,

emptied by the mindless wars.
a m a n d a May 2020
there are many things
i do not know
even after
40 years and i tell you
i haven’t stopped
this searching
since first i awoke
to the world
always so concerned
so amused
so incredibly internal
to a degree i cannot
describe or fathom
i only wanted
to love
and to help
and to create
and instead
the earth opened
and i fell
to another
place.
Internal flames sustain the charring coals of misery.

Heat so intense,
the molten source of such bewitchery seems contradictory.

As time ends the landscape bends.
Seeps.
Melts.
No hope for new discovery.

Personal freedom and liberty are now things of history.

Ideas and dreams stuck in protohistory,
nothing left,
zero energy,
abstinence of synergy.

Death. The bittersweet valedictory.
Lost ideas of mystery. The mystery that
only the silent soul can hold the final sole victory too.
Consilius May 2020
Here we are,
standing on the edge of sympathy,
bound by irony,
divided in purpose.

You aim to climb the highest peak,
meaning is what you seek.
I want to see the skies painted in the dawn,
for in the morning, significance is reborn.
MDtheWordsmith May 2020
Mirror, Mirror
On the wall
Why must you always
Watch me fall

I see you
And you see me
You look down with indifference
While I look up and plea

An inside battle
Between you and me
I am you and
You are me
Kaley Apr 2020
Hell is not fire, nor brimstone,
It is not of devils and sin.
Hell is far more personal,
Too raw and real within.
Hell is a prison for tortured souls,
Constructed of flesh and of bone.
Hell is dark and deep,
The only place you're ever truly alone.
Hell is where your demons dance,
Along a wicked line.
Hell is where your agony,
Hides behind the words "I'm fine."
Quarantinistani Apr 2020
I am the audience.
I am the act.

I am the set
atop the stage.

I am the curtain -
of that I am certain.

I am the lead,
I am the follow.

Follow me fellow,
come say hello.

I am the scene
on the stage.

I am the scene
on the screen.

I am the scene
that is not seen.

For I am the scene
behind the scenes.

I am the light.
I shine so bright.

I blind their sight.
Lights out; night, night.

They fear my might -
of that they're right.

It's me they hear,
loud and clear.

It's me they fear
as I draw near.

They thought they could.
They thought they would.

They knew they should.
But now they're shook.

For I am the truth.
And I am come.

I am set free.
Now lies must flee.

Out, out the doubt.
Their lies, stamped out.

They scream, they shout.
They cry, they pout.

They beg, they plead.
Their hearts, they bleed.

I pay no heed.
Truth is my creed.

True is the need.
Wage war on greed.

I am the thief.
From me, I stole.

Mind, body,
spirit, soul.

I am the tyrant;
I am oppressed.

The time is now,
I must revolt.

I must Jihad,
I must Crusade.

No time to wast.
I must make haste!

Have you no eyes?
Do you not see?

It's me I fight!
Day and night!

I am the pen,
I am the sword.

I am the speech,
I am the word.

I am the battle,
I am the axe.

The time is now,
need you ask?

I am the struggle,
I am the strife.

This is my way,
this is my life.

I am the many,
I am the one.

I am all
         and I am none.
In what ways do you find yourself engaged in battle against your own self?
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