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Spirit GuideIt's from my heart's deep desire,
That I truly must inquire.
The questions from my guide,
Through dreams that I design.
Upon a prayer this I do call.
That you travel from heaven's own hall.
Either by feet, by wings, or by paws.
And revive a young spirit that falls.
For I am one that desires to know.
Who it is that can help me learn and grow.
So I may find guidance for pleasure and peace.
To fill the void and pain I find inside me.
CryIt is a sad sight to see a young man wail while entangled in the arms of another.It is pure sadness that is cried out in his uncontrollable sobs. All emotion coming from a heart that has been warped, twisted, abused, and forgotten. His past has happened and is gone, leaving him only harsh memories, emptiness and pain. Things that no one can easily escape from.
Whimpers escape his lips as he feels the pain from what has plagued his mind; Thinking of what could have been. Maybe something more then a friendship, or maybe something even more special then love itself. But now all hope is gone and all that is left is a wounded soul and a broken spirit.
His voice is raspy from crying. "I have always always been there for you." The tears continue to flow while his voice mumbles a grievous monotone sound. " I Would have given you the moon if I could, but you just didn't want. Anything." There is no anger in his voice, only sadness. It is not accusations that he
I HungerI hunger... for warmth.
The warmth of happiness- To feel serene at the end of the day.
The warmth from you- To hug and to hold and to be happy together.
The warmth of a pack- To rest easy as I'm surrounded by people who care.
The warmth of hope- To keep my spirit alive so it can fight the next day.
I hunger... and I'm tired of feeling cold.
My Seven Deadly SinsGluttony:
I've never thought of myself to be very gluttonous. I might be a bit hefty weight wise, but I don't eat and eat and eat and then get sick and eat some more. That's what I think of when someone mentions the deadly sin of Gluttony and so I feel I don't fail in that aspect. However, maybe I need to look at other qualities beside food. Gluttony is taking in too much other than what you need. The most obvious and first thought of being a gluten is eating too much food, but you could also put this under many things. Video games for my example. I play enough video games that it makes me ponder if I'm being Gluttonous. However, video games do not hamper my ability to communicate with friends or family (infact, they can be very good catalysts for enjoying a good night) I do not spend my time 24/7 on video games to where it seriously interferes with work or school. Nor am I 'addicted' to where I MUST play video games or I'm going to kill someone
TwistedYou found me while my life was crumpled into a tight ball.
My worry and stress all twisted and matted together into my pain and dreams.
Then piece by piece, you carefully un-crumpled me.
Slowly and carefully undoing the ball that this world had tightly wound.
And then you gazed in awe.
All the web of scars that was left had shaped a broken beauty.
Then you drew pictures upon my tattered page; wrote whispers of serenity upon those broken lines.
The ink stained over the scars like blood in a cloth; never to be removed.
And then knowing you could do no more for me.
The paper was tenderly folded once more and placed beside your heart.
Yet it still hurt.
Just as life crumpled my life, your folding too was painful.
But you folded with love.
Instead of with hate that life waded into me.
And now, what is to be done?
Now that these feelings are upon themselves once again.
I can feel the edges of the folds curling inward.
As well as the ink sweating as the note burns with yearning to be not besi
Hurting for youMy heart inside is broken,
It fell apart for you.
No more tears inside my eyelids,
For I cried them out for you.
No more voice to mourn my problems,
Because I wept and moaned for you.
My feelings are forever hurting,
Because I see that you are blue.
Even though I gave my everything,
My heart still breaks for you.
Because in this life it's just not fair,
When your happiness alludes you.
My ItemOn the outside you are small and simple, but inside, you can hold some real personal qualities. Size and color varies with taste, but your smooth, orange texture is just right for me. You are with me on the go and lighter than a handful of change, yet weighted down with the memories of the past.
You're a catalyst for fun, as well as a tool of opportunity for good times. You're like the keys to an adventure; one that can be as exciting or as mundane as the user makes it.
You're not biased or judgmental, but equal on every side. Yet, more often times than not, someone feels that the chances are swayed for better or worse.
You're like a best friend. Someone who can get you into some interesting situations, but can also save your butt when you least expect it.
Most importantly, you are a gift from an old friend. Someone who I will never forget may mourn over for all eternity.
My twenty-sided dice.
Learning How To Walk AgainLearning how to live my life without you feels like trying to learn how to walk after a terrible car accident.
You stumble frequently and those first few steps seem to hurt the most. The pain lingers on and on, until you wake up one morning and realize the pain has faded into the thing of the past. But then on those stormy nights, good ole author comes knocking on your door and you're haunted with those drilling aches and pains in your most tender joints.
The next few nights, or walks, are very painful. Stress so strong it's as if you can't compare it to your first step. You cry out as your heart breaks, the sound of cracking as your feet slowly grind back into its original place. You just have to keep walking and endure the fact that he's gone and never coming back.
Every new day, or every step forward, feels very numb. Then suddenly arthritis starts stabbing at your heart. It beats heavily to the awkward rhythm of your stumbling footsteps. I find no solace in what used to bring me jo
I cried again todayI cried again today...
Because the moment I thought was so pleasant,
Turned into the blade the split open my heart-
Causing the pain and emotion to go fleeting,
Until my soul was empty of all feeling.
I cried again today,
Because what memories I thought would fill the void in my heart,
Was actually the catalyst to tear my tears away-
which became trapped into my blankets and pillow,
As they muffled my sobs of pain.
I cried again today,
Because the name that was so wonderful,
Now only makes me feel sorrowful-
And what really feels so horrible,
That I don't think this will ever change.
I cried again today,
Because my prayers of thanks and forgiveness,
Evolved into regrets and repentance-
Then I teared up after this sentence,
"I'm already forgiven yet still lost in my ways."
I cried again today...
Because there was nothing left to do,
After a restless night of feeling blue-
Tossing and turning just thinking about you,
And hoping that my 'this is only a dream' wish would come true.
A Poet's EchoCan poetry be felt in the blood, in the veins
with each lyric being harmonized through dreams slain
Each epic speaking of places both far and nigh
With each melancholic elegy seeping pain?
Can verse performed by thunderstorms in the sky
Be what compels us to express our hearts, to cry?
How many poems have been written using tears
As ink, written until our souls have been bled dry?
Have decades of weeping filled the seas with our fears
And our nightmares penetrated mountains likes spears?
Can a poet's echo resound beyond the chain
Of mortality and fate's tyrannical leer?
Poem for Lou ReedTruly singular, an outsider’s outsider,
He learned well life’s hard truths, and was walking proof that
Your thoughts are only as deep as your faults.
Subjected to psychic savagery in his youth,
His mind took on an ever-changing persona
Always shifting between fame and failure.
A misfit, a hustler, a rake, a transformer,
A rogue, but not a charlatan, an objector,
But not a coward, never a coward.
An expert spinner of verse, he possessed a knack
For feel, impact, attitude, style; he always knew
Which words were those worth the listener’s while.
His means and his methods were fittingly erratic:
He would spend his days crafting curiosities
Only to then neglect and forget them.
What was important, though, wasn’t his works or quirks,
Nor his talent for causing a storm at a stroke,
But what he and his friends set in motion.
They would, unwittingly, forever change the way
We’d hear the sounds the mind thought it already kn
I Am: 2I am only the friend you talk with in class, the neighbor you only wave hi to, and the student you pay no attention. I wait and
I wonder when someone will come and question me, question the things I do and why I do them for
I hear this floating voice that belongs to no one and
I see a shape that resembles a person and
I want no more than to mold and sharpen that image into someone... but
I fear that will never happen for
I am only the friend you talk with in class, the neighbor you only wave hi to, and the student you pay no attention.
I pretend to actually talk with my friends, face to face instead over wavelengths of the internet; hear their voice and see their smiles and stupid hand gestures! I felt...
I feel like they're really there. That people I've never met are with me in my room, sitting next to me- and I really want that. I know
I touch them; emotionally, that is.
I worry about that, actually. I'm happy to know that I've had an impact on people I will never know. And more tha
The mosaic of life.The streams of color,
flowing and endless.
The mosaic of life never ends,
all it does is start a new panel.
One to be filled in by you.
The Beginningons ago, before time and space,
Was born a set of twins who took its place.
One had eyes of daybreak and hair of sun,
The other, hair of night and eyes of blood.
Born to Laelia, Singer of Light and Love,
Husband to Laelius, God who rules with a fitted glove.
‘Twas a difficult birth, screams echoed through the empty world,
But Laelia was never alone or so the story told.
Lucifer was first, life entered with hollow cries,
Laurentius was next, his smiles greeted by butterflies.
Both welcomed with joyous celebration.
Excited Laelius, humans, his creation.
The Twins then never left each others sides.
Except when heavy choices caused morals to collide.
I miss youIf there could be any way
That I could just reach your hand
And hold it tight in mine
Is it so far away
I just seem to be unable
To catch it
I love you
The moon's full now
And keeps me awake
All along the dark night
The stars get weaker every time
I look above at them
And you aren't there
I love you
It's been too long
Your eyes are fading from my mind
I can't remember them in detail
Your face's lines
Are blurry when I try to see it in my head
I love you
I miss you too much even
My tears are all used up
My eyes are dry as the cold wind
Blowing around me
I'm frozen to the bones
I miss you
Why I Hold On TighterThe gunshot echoes penetrating the air,
Increasing tensions in military warfare.
Knives that puncture and slice apart,
Fists of rage that damage skin and heart.
Explosions and smoke so sudden and fast,
No time to recover from the devastating blast.
A moment frozen in time after the disease diagnosed,
Tears falling on a body lifeless and comatose.
Car horns and screeching wheels on the pavement so loud,
Two victims of a crash of the rain from a cloud.
Though all of these things do not fill me with fright,
It is to you, my dear, they make me hold tight.
Vulnerable YouthPaper hearts from bright pink tissue meant for presents,
fanciful butterflies from orange dashed cardboard,
five petaled flowers danced around the sentence
of simplicity, ultimately to discard.
Tender thoughts from censored, guarded minds,
boldly do the simple stubby fingers strive to hide
the gift from Mommy, so that she can't find
the secret depth of the darkest snide.
The gentle pressure of acknowledging gestures
even the meaningless thank you cards
meant to send you on emotional adventures,
only to be shredded on cynical hearts' shards.
But it is the thought that counts,
those sweet little eyes haven't yet been renounced.
NeedlesThe meat is cold from bloodless lust
My organs are damaged
Path be taken down range-
-And end with chilling wall
Forest of needle spires climb
My height cannot ask
Deem the stars they point-
-For reverence physical
Destroyed as winter comes
Invested into my stock
I am bought and brought home
With no escape from the lock
Needle sew a coat of iron
Black with the char left by
Remembrance make me a scion
And kindle a soul inside
Lids have shut and no key breaks
I cannot see between blades
Cut the night to ribbons-
-Now banners to losing way
Imposing in my blindness wait
My feet are icy cold
The forward march is death incarnate-
-Though I am numb to catch
A fabric stolen mask and clothe
The boundary pointed shed
Once streamers bleeding dry wove
The semblance of disjointed ends
No try can match the mind at work
For ochre has my pallor drained
This raiment bears a doubting murk
Through glacier impassive face
My asking wanes with setting freeze
The armour frozen bites
A pleading body already w
Christmas PrayerDear God,
Tonight I'm writing to you instead of that old fat guy. Now it may sound weird at first, which as you know that probably suits me perfectly, but this year I would like some new body-parts. I would like a new brain for starters. One that doesn't think as much, because I find myself focusing on the things that make me sad; which makes my good, happy days seem bad. I would also like a new heart. One that doesn't desire complicated things that is next to impossible to achieve, or that desires the comfort from people that do not desire to give that comfort. Both attributes can be very painfully to balance and can really put anyone into a depressive funk. I would also like some new eyes and ears this year. I find my old pair is starting to only perceive the bad in this world and not the good that is still in it. Thank you for all you do. What you have given me is more then I deserve. Yet, if it's not too much trouble to ask. If you don't feel comfortable replacing these body-parts,
Keep in Touch!
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