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Where Did You GoSearching high and searching low
I can't seem to find the way to go.
I doubled back, rememb'r'ng tales
But rocks had fell, and cut my trails.
Checked for names and checked for clues
A fruitless search was what ensued.
I have to wonder, after so long;
What had come of acquaintances gone?
And as I rest from running to and fro
I heave my breaths and wonder with woe,
That just perhaps I'm not supposed to know...
And yet I can't help but ask,
Where did you go?
What Makes Right "Right"?In my mind, I have the Voices--the characterizations and mental materializations of the different sides of me. I have a good side, a bad side, and myself on the border of those sides, one foot planted on each ground. My evil voice, my dark materialization, her name is Demona, and she stands in the shadowed side to my left--my darker side, my sinful side and the source of all negative pieces in my mental being. All of my good sides are to my right.
I suppose you're wondering what I'm going at with this. Just stick with me; I'll explain.
Right is deemed as "to the right side", as "right", as "correct", as "just" and "fair", as "good", as the side of "heroes".
But what is left?
Left isn't anything in those terms, save for the first were Left would be "to the left side". Left is, as I quote one of my dictionaries here, "past of LEAVE".
So the Dark side, we shall call it, is deemed as "not right", as "evil", as "incorrect", as "unjust" and "unfair", as "bad", as the side of "villains".
Charge, ChargeGiant arm just like a shield
Little arm with no real feel
Mashed in skull and missing nose
Time to chant the war song code:
March along, the calvary!
Go take out the enemy!
Run and strike the weakest link!
Pound them into anything!
Beat them on the concrete!
Hit them on the ceiling!
Slam against the chain-link!
KILL THE SORRY WEAKLING!
Jockey's Glee"Jockey, Jockey!"
They scream at me!
I meet them with a smile,
But they're never happy to see me!
Let's play a game, I know just what to do;
I'll hop on your back, and try to steer you!
Let's see just what fun we can have,
While I scratch at your face with my pretty, clawed hands!
Oops! I've run you into the fire!
Oops! I've run you into a crowd!
Oops! I've run you off of your higher,
Vantage point so we can all take you down!
Oops! I've run you into burning goo!
Oops! I've forced you over to the crying Miss!
Oops! I've lead you to my friend the Tank,
And now he'll punch you to itty-bits!
What fun, what fun, we shall always enjoy!
And now that you're broken, I won't play with you anymore!
I'm off, I'm off, to find my next friend!
So we can play the same game, all over again!
I Like To PretendI like to pretend
That I have changed
And that everyone else has stayed the same
That I've evolved into something beyond
That which I used to be.
But sometimes, I like to pretend
That I'm the one who's stayed the same
That everyone else are the ones who've changed
And that's why things aren't as they used to be.
I like to pretend
That maybe someday
We'll have this whole thing rearranged
And that maybe
We won't live in a world carefree
But a world more at peace than it used to be.
That maybe we'd have finally made a recovery
That this bad economy
Was after all really just temporary
That the war would finally be ending
And we'd have just a little bit of peace
Before the next breakout of killing sprees.
I don't dream of a world where everything is fine
Because that is such a thin, thin line
That we just imagine we see.
But what I believe
Is that this world is just as it's always been
That these wars won't ever really end
That these grudges by the fine countrymen
Will be carried on by futu
DS VIII: Heaven's LullabySleep, my dear child
Let me play Heaven's lullaby
For you, my dear child
Let me pluck stars from the night sky
Dream, my dear child
Sleep soundly as you lie
Forever, my dear child
Never again to open your eyes
Daeva Suite VII: FalseFalse, you say my words are that.
False, I say that about your words, too.
False, we're not blind to the fact,
False, is nothing but a clever ruse?
DS VI: Melt This HeartMelt this heart, sweet fiend of my life.
Melt this heart: leave it without light.
Melt this heart; make it crave the times old.
Melt this heart, remind it of its whole past retold.
Melt this heart, put a black hole in it now to be left,
Melt this heart, so now it carries your crest.
Melt this heart, my sweet fiend, this you have done.
Melt this heart no longer, sweet fiend it is gone, now run.
Melt this heart no longer, sweet fiend go; you have won.
Daeva Suite Vb: SF MelodyI heard a song today.
I heard it in my dreams.
A simple little melody,
That a woman gently sings.
Mesmerizing me, somehow, someway.
I couldn't escape the harmonious trance
Of the woman's gentle song,
And her illustrious, simple beauty,
Her eyes captured me with but a glance.
I murmured incoherently, half-awake from my state of slumber,
To find cold, white arms around me, I almost screamed, but nay:
My voice choked, and I could only look, up upon whose ghostly arms had me.
I thought that I was still dreaming, to see the swan whose funeral I'd attended yesterday.
I could only lie there, eyes wide with fear, hers gently looking upon me with content.
Her mouth softly moved to continue the melody, and though it appeared whispered, was so clear.
I think I must have passed back out, for when I awoke again, I found she had gone; she had off and went.
I suppose the daylight through the windowpane made her dissolve into the air...
But I do not understand why she visited me, how she could have kn
Hey YouHey you.
With the perfect smile,
Even if it hasn't been seen
In a little (or long) while.
I hope you're feeling okay.
And I think you're
Doing really great today;
You are one less day away
From your perfect tomorrow.
Peter Pan EnvyWe molded pirate ships
from heavy storm clouds,
flags puffed up
and scooped out
like handfuls of sand
while the car windows
steamed in the cold.
You told me stories
of a boy in green
and his war with
the hooked man,
said they took
those like us
to the first star on the right
and straight on to morning.
You made me believe
and when life got hard--
mom hopped up on pills,
nights filled with demons--
I breathed wishes
to be stolen away.
No pirate ever darkened my stoop
with his wayward compass
or water-stained maps;
no fairy ever left glitter
smeared on my skin
like good dreams.
I look to the sky
when the wind blows
and hold my breath
with his name on my tongue
all the same.
SeptemberThe summer was so hot
the dogs stuck to the sidewalks
with the newspapers
and the black metal cans
everyone left waiting on the curb.
You could smell it
in the glass pitchers
on table tops,
and the sheets that never
dried on the clothes lines;
the canvas beach bags
mothers dragged wearily
across the sand
and the ice cream trucks
melting across the highways.
Children felt it open
up the windows at night
and find a corner
of the bed to smother,
while fathers baited it on hooks
or mowed it down
in flat, dry stripes
as if begging each other
And the crickets just hummed
beneath the corn silk
and the dry mouth
daring the cats to play
hide and seek -
searching for September.
thirstYou tell me to breathe in
the scent of my tea:
Apple Cinnamon Spice,
it is crisp and infusing
the aroma into my lips.
Honey coasts along my spoon,
apple biting into its
golden flavor. Cinnamon bursts
forth for a brief moment and I am
Note to SelfDate a librarian; they'll read you until your spine falls apart, and still love every page. They'll underline your highlights, your endless seas of profound poetry, as if they've mistaken your manatee appearance for a mermaid. They'll hang off the cliff of your chapter 15 and dive into the next page as if you're about to reveal what they've been looking for. And when they don't find it, they'll tear out your words letter by letter with a hush, asking you oh so sweetly to stay quiet. Finally, they'll bind your broken spine with tape and set you on the shelf for misplaced books until they forget you were ever there, but they won't be done with you. They'll never be done with you; even when it seems your pages, your rib cage and heart, is filled with nothing but dust.
Stormy nightPouring rain
Just another night
In this sad existence
The rain feels refreshing
The darkness is comforting
And they bring a smile
To my melancholic face
I am one with the night
One with the storm
Standing under the streetlight
Waiting for life to happen
More to Come, More to LoveMore to come
More to love
More potbellies bulging seductively
More love handles to lovingly handle
More expanding muffintops to nibble
More inches on the measuring tape
More pounds on the scale
More softening fat bottoms to sit upon
More comfortable living
More people becoming fluffier everyday
More size acceptance
More tubby tolerance
More self-loving wonders
More deliciously sinful food to enjoy
More freedom from guilt and shame
More liberation of libidos
More opening of minds
More unshackling of hearts
More release from constraints
More living large
More emancipation of bodies
More sleeping in
More breakfast in bed
More letting oneself go
More unbuttoning of pants
More flab enveloping abs
More thickening of thighs
More softening of faces
More doubling of chins
More dimpling of cheeks
More fine fat rolls
More cinnamon rolls
More buttery dinner rolls
More swiss chocolate rolls
More ice cream
More biscuits and gravy
More bread and
Acid, Acid"Pocket full of posies
Ring around the rosies
We all fall down..."
My pretty little smile
Says, "Won't you stay a while?"
I'll use acid, acid
To make you stick around...
But digits on your triggers
Unlike the rings around my fingers
And with acid, acid
I'll make you all fall down...
Burning pretty green goo
Spreads just like the morn dew
It's acid, acid
To make you all slow down...
With pockets full of bottles
And weapons that you coddle
Don't help when acid, acid
Makes you all fall down...
Pretty Spitter's pigtails
Love to dance when she trails
Survivors while her acid, acid
Drips along the ground...
Spitter dear goes bye-bye
Because the bullets flied-flied
And killed her and her acid, acid
Burns her body down...
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More