Tag Archives: pray

Erbsünde

Facile strokes and dismembered veneration

Severed applause for a predicated generation

Amid disparate provenance lay foreboding whim

Of dissonance and elegance—prays original sin

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Wandering aspirations brought upon the knell

Ornate devilry waltzing on a dormant clandestine hell

Banished to fields precarious as forbidden valleys

Austere as poor man’s blood smeared upon rich tapestries

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From the agitated archangels that dare to implore

Comes resentment refracted and arrogance adored

And heartbeats resonating within a derelict mortuary

Sinners and serpents alike singing for a purgatory

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And when raging disquiet permeates the idyllic tempest

Of naphthalene rivers and lunary souls brought in behest

Cries the sanctuary of heaven—weeping for paradise lost

For Eden is the tempting muse and vestal morality the cost

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Intransigence weeps the treachery, torn with abated melancholy

A disheartening performance acted out in entablateured cemeteries

When masqueraded stagnation blooms from impassioned stones

Original sin reposes triumphant, perennial solitude on a devastated throne.

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La Bella Fantasia

“I swear that I can hear you in the wind…”

~*~

little phantasmic phantoms dance about

growing flowers at the garden of my mind

waiting to pluck out each bluebell and daisy

to fashion the wreaths into something kind

the playful zephyr is a fair weather friend

lulling each berceuse to sleep until the end

orbit sending me high into the atmosphere

but i won’t fall, no—i have nothing to fear

listening to the cherry blossoms that hide

in the boroughs where there’s a tinkerbell bride

and the mystical creatures would understand

with every speck of dust, a magic that enchants

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but the delphi hearts and oracular tongues

speak of stories and brier thorns that selfishly clung

to innocent naivete still stubbornly preserved

though only to the pristine youth that it deserves

the wily eyes staring into the darkness osiris

as the nettles grow wild prevent cogent dreams

they scoured the atlas looking for eternal citadels

the nondescript pangs unaware of incarnate bevels

shrines that i pray to now submerged in irascible sins

incoherent adages leaving bruised indentations within

will the pixies be daunted? will the elves repatriate?

Quietly accepting the moiety of their unfortunate fates?

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but beneath the black and white of underground paradise

is a fair place for scathing asters and aureole mirth alike

beyond the curlicues of charcoal smoke that paint the stars

a gossamer love decays, recording a dictaphone of past wars

in an imbroglio of lotuses, past the wafting scent of sandalwood

on the horizon, a transit of venus, a crescent smiling platitude

thoughts as crystal clear as seaglass, reflect candid illusions

show a bouquet from the spectres, a plethora of guiling ruminations

amid the taste of camphor and lead, i return to lacklustre reality

wondering and pondering when i’ll get lost again in my crafted fantasy.

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An Omitted Verse In The Hallowed Scripture

Standing in the shade of altruism, answering the call
Came a modern messiah to save us all
Something far beyond a work of fiction, positronic brain
A world that’s void of all the anguish and suffering, pain
Better tame your convictions before you go and open the cage…

~*~

They implore and beg, don’t sabotage

The remains of another obsolete adage

Waiting solemn for the raptured corpses

To be assembled, attempted, reattached

But the nightmare deceived in penance

Praying covet as pharisees emblazoned

Gods in faux gold, built another temple

Forfeiting all the impure jezebels stoned

And their towers and citadels crumbled

Under a quelled weight of Samson’s sins

Killing a million innocent for the penalty

Of what one iniquitous man wrongly did

The holy writ mutated and twisted again

As a biblical rain unrelentingly poured in

Leprosy-sore mouths of those calling for

A prophetical saviour which never arrived

The testaments old and new burned in ashes

Back to dust, where man belongs and returns

And as the serpent’s fruit was once again bitten

Divine paradise opened up to show promised horror all along.

~*~

We’re creating God, master of our designs
We’re creating God, unsure of what we’ll find
We’re creating God, in search of the divine
We’re creating God, committing suicide…

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The Soldier In The Desert

Well, after all the blood that you still owe
Another dollar’s just another blow
So fix your eyes and get up
Better get up while you can…

~*~

so tell me, what have i done

to deserve these icy shivers

you dripped down my spine

and halted my temperature?

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i only wished to take respites

and thaw this spastic relation

i never thought you’re weary

fathomed into a sunken inure

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but grudges develop into gall

and interpretations turn awry

communications break down

and scars leave defaced marks

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though was this my sin or yours

praying to the deities of hearsay

and believe gossip from tongues

refusing thus to light the sparks?

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so tell me, just what have i done

to deserve your crashing bullets?

dismayed gunpowder sending me

straight down into an early grave

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i only wished to defuse the placid hate

and cease this ineffectual, aeonian war

but perhaps both of the perpetrators are

enjoying such pain too much to be saved.

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Defying Deities

Oh, so that’s the manifesto, isn’t it

That the rest of us have to drag out

On our bloody and bruising knees

Just to reach you, just to touch you

Like a self-serving punctilious deity?

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But has it ever occurred to you

That you’re just not worth it?

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Because attempts aren’t enough, no

We have to break in the better side

Of us until you proclaim that we’re

Worth it, still refusing to get down

From the pedestal you built yourself

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But has it ever occurred to you

That we just don’t give a fuck?

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And if we were all to go beyond such

Immeasurable bounds of that declining

Reputation, for something that should be

Handed out freely in the first place, then

Why should we bother praying for your

Nonexistent grace, dying for a miracle?

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But we should, we unquestionably should

Because you’re just that sacred, right?

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heartaches painted in grey

i want a million diamonds

from the sky to shatter my perception

and allude my verboten tongue

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waiting for florid ice and fire

to thaw in each other’s grasp, aureole eyes

flickering against the soft dimming of the lights

on and off and on and off and on…

.

these hearts don’t belong

to the bathroom stall

and your paperback tales aren’t mine

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i wish i could collide my mouth with the promises

that you will never keep from me

and i wish you would climb out from the

black screen that you hide under

praying for a sordid memory

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though they say it isn’t meant to be

but another distant heartache

spilling oil paintings at the back of my

monochrome cracked skull.

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Ave Sancti Scelus

And if such inferno paves the way to the gates of heaven

Let my will sin freely, benediction blessing chaste broken

And if heaven rots under my feet to make way for inferno

Let my soul pray for mercy, tempt christening pious sorrow.

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