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The Last HourWhen the final bell tolls, where everything is dark.
Has the last hour struck, gone swift as the lark?
In the end where nothing matters, are we destined to fall and die?
Or shall we find a place, where eternal souls can fly?
Whether bound for it or not, here in darkness I weep.
Kept from the mighty purchase, comforted by sleep.
Lost in daily ramblings, never straight on course.
Loving momentarily, living in remorse.
Bound by fate and tragedy, darker days grow still.
Watching as the world goes by, from behind the window sill.
Peace eternal everything, just outside my reach.
Drifting souls among me, deafened to my speech.
Fuel the fire burning, of everlasting pain.
Forgive not your enemies, till by your hands they're slain.
Live not for today, and die not for tomorrow.
When all the world lives and dies in fitful tears of sorrow.
Now at the ending trail bound in darkness fall.
Fighting out against the world, oppressed by each and all.
Chain the power deep inside to keep it from return.
Dreams of Aquan Angels
It was night. The grass was soft underneath my feet. Leaning on a shoulder, someone led me away from my misery. With eyes closed, I know not how far we traveled. Only that the longer we were on foot, the lighter I felt. As if someone had taken all of my troubles away. I could only guess at who was guiding me, weary as I trudged mile after mile to who knew where. Soon, the sound of the ocean brought me to my senses some what, though I still walked on in silence, following they who would take me away.
When at last, after what seemed like an eternity, we stopped. A small light had penetrated the darkness of my heavily sagging lids, invading on my moment of peace. Wearily, I opened the burdened bags to find myself in a shallow, dimly lit cave.
My eyes burned in the light, feeling like they hadn't been opened in days. Coupled with the sting of the salty air, they watered so intensely that it obscured what little untouched vision I had. Sleep deprived me of my sight, having been mostly unco
5:20i went to the forest
to purify my lungs
then i saw the thick
three letter scar
i left in a slender
birch, and wondered how
i could let you poison
another living thing.
moths aren't afraid of pins
till they're stuck to a piece of styrofoam.
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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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