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Norbert Tasev May 2020
I wake up, I wake up, and only in the morning do I regret the nights leaving in silence, the screaming ravens wisely watching the hellishness of owls as they warn of the vulnerability of Existence! And I have to look enviously at how I smile and shine at the rays of the bombarding sunbeam on my face: Even the natural antidote to a hangover! I must be up in the face of a radiant radiance, a bitterly wrinkled World, and in it the compromising Man who proclaimed himself a wise man who knows all things!

And suddenly in my heart the executed despair, the ongoing anger, the instinct itself move: Eternity every day without an immortal sweetheart - and meanwhile even those with cowardly ant-zeal live on the ground with me! - Man always asks for things, favors, and obligations: he deserves more, and yet less than he deserves.

your own morals are worth it! Man, as a free prey projected on a truly humiliated Adam costume, is forced to face death, gnashing his teeth. The defeated thread of its existence can soon be cut off by the molecular organism of mortal biologies! - Thinking through connections perpetuates everyone - and we don't know the true meaning: Whether they were determined in our case by superior "powers, executioners"

"And as dying grains of dust, they become one with the tears that wounded our face, which was destroyed in mourning!" - The nothing that is permanently destroyed, isn't it approaching ?! "You are cracking yawning bones there, that there used to be an eternal bang!"
Norbert Tasev May 2020
Chain-eyed heroes served in an ore-shaped cliff socket: aggastyan wages are served, silently in the immortality of time. They preserve their past by listening to their vision of Theiresias. Lightnings also stand on time-worn wounded ridges, prophets of loneliness stand: Iris soares to indefinite heights With the meaning of Icarus, the thinking consciousness: It never gives up!

All the pounding noises are their murmurs, a majestic, terrifying revelation: Below the diminishing feet of the mountains stands an unfortunate village infested with its envy-morsel, - he utteres the smallness of Jericho aloud! The disgusted putts here like the killer spikes of bitterness

the illusory ideals, the illuminating morals, - the candlesticks of goodness are now shining less frequently here - the total attack of the killer-throated wolves that have ruined everything and everyone here - the Apocalypse is at home here and we are slowly recovering ourselves. - In an ore-hearted spine socket, silent truths are swept under the fluff of carpets, - beyond the wounded distant sky there is a stretched soaring golden dragon rocket lights. In the pure, unshakable bastions of silence, only the eternal human laws can be left to him alone: ​​Fear reigns at the knocking beats of heartbeats fear vulnerable personality consciousness

on his troubled, misunderstanding day he devours several times, a distorted mirage, the Peace of Appearance shines, if the wounded, pure-hearts do not do it! - In a granite socket, only they can be unbreakable septa, rock pipes that expropriate land: It crumples, whips the groove section of muscle chains and is not spared daily by the moody moody, raging natural disaster!
Dhimss May 2020
I gave you a gun.

pressed it to my heart.

You held the trigger

to what was mine.

It should nt be surprising

that i got shot.

Rather hilarious all that was

I m delirious for thinking otherwise.
got hurt, rather surprised that i m not surprised
For the rainbows that are birthed from the heavy storms, hurricanes and the floods we endure in our lives are beautiful scars
that serve as a reminder that we were created for a greater purpose,
and that the pain from our torn and bleeding hearts
is what makes us triumphant and worthy.

The scorched, the damaged, the wounded, and the broken are indeed the most purest of souls.
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Breakings
by Michael R. Burch

I did it out of pity.
I did it out of love.
I did it not to break the heart of a tender, wounded dove.

But gods without compassion
ordained: "Frail things must break!"
Now what can I do for her shattered psyche’s sake?

I did it not to push.
I did it not to shove.
I did it to assist the flight of indiscriminate Love.

But gods, all mad as hatters,
who legislate in all such matters,
ordained that everything irreplaceable shatters.

Keywords/Tags: Love, compassion, pity, heart, break, tender, wounded, dove, gods, command, mad, hatters, legislate, sorrow, destruction
The way their lips curl back
To reveal sharply angled teeth
Looks less like a smile
And more like a warning
Their words cut worse than anything else
Leaving wounds that could never be filled with tears
Even the smaller wounds sting
When they are remembered later in life
And all of the old thoughts come rushing back
All of your wounds reopened
Just from all of their glass smiles
And sharp teeth
Nothing could be justified
By their improvised lies
Falling perfectly into place
Marking their victims with an unexpected daze

The tears that fall from our eyes
Are starting to turn red
As all of our blood rushes to our head
Burning rage chokes us to death
Until that time when we finally snap
And bring out our own glass smile
Preparing to leave wounds
Just as deep as the ones they left on you
Stab marks left behind on their waxy skin
They were just pretending to have emotions
You know that they were all fake
Their glass smiles making them real
More life like then their marring wounds
N Sep 2019
I am repaying my
wounded soul a visit

A distant voice tells me
“I am no longer welcome here”
N Aug 2019
It is seven
in the morning,
where I wage a war
against myself

It ends only when
I take the pill

As a bullet
lodged in my mouth,
and I was the one
to pull the trigger

I am the architect of
my own destruction

I’ve survived
a dozen of wars,
and came back alive

Wounded
but alive
insane Mar 2020
I'm stuck in this dark abyss
can you pull me out
and show me where my
heart and light is ?
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
Draw nigh
wounded starling,
dwell among
the woodland fastness;
come under its canopy,
upon the bough's
fractal patterns;
mend your wings,
rest your thoughts;
in time you too will mentor
fledglings, the jackdaws
and sand martins,
teaching them
to safely yonder fly.
For fellow HP writer, Joey.
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