Chasing a Love

My feeling’s created a vortex – They shall bring her towards; Her’s deflect my circular storm.  The wind shoots towards immensely.

Knocking me down – She comes forward wearing an (unknown) mask, wielding a freshly sharpened knife – The days have passed, the blade remained, the mask knew many roles, the knife has taken many foes – The darkness is overpowering

The weaponry, becomes dull as she progresses her stabs locating my heart – the vortex lessens in size.

She smiles, the beauty of her smile, catches me off guard – my feeling’s ‘sharpen’ – They take ahold – strengthen…. ascend – The vortex grow’s dangerously large;

The powerful air becomes unstable, It fluctuates – tilts rapidly, back-and-forth – bringing forth the other, consuming her; the blade – bounced off my heavily guarded heart, the blade bent…. I wake up, and realize i’ve been walking once more in my sleep – Feeling’s still needing release, to pick her up, and wrap my arms around.

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The True Ruler.

there were sheep, wolves, pigs, and velvet ropes. The instructor, was often smiling with a large and antagonizing smile. He reeked of gin and an odour, that triggered the nostrils to cease to breath, he smelt of success, and achievement. His ego was large. His muscles tiny. he began to stumble – over the time of the games… He teased each category. made them maneuver to a beat of his own violin, his red and well strung piece of musical sadness. His tone was aggressive and be-lilting, his hands were tightening as the animals were slow at progressing through the maze. He began to get angry… annoyed at humanity.… He wanted more, he wanted better… he wanted perfection… As the days progressed the being’s would lose their individuality, their dignity, their balls. And each day, this pig, this ruler, would strengthen his games, intensify their work… All while he sat above and grinned with pleasure, his alcoholic lips, lick his lips

he believes in conformity, and relentlessly begins to achieve it – Throughout our society… this man is strong, and ever-so powerful, and he won’t stop… he cannot stop… this world is his for the taking. And each category of animal is for his eating, he chows souls for breakfast, hearts for lunch, and tears for dinner. He sings an awfully dark tune in the morning, that frightens each animal, he sings it without heart and only knows the horrid words, he only understands ruthlessness and betrayal… He pawns each animal, he maneuvers them to stay dedicated, and keep up the rhythm. he yells loudly when they step out-of-line… and he strengthens their mind with his destructive words. And these words grip the soul and bring it down to his level, he dines with the devil, he goes to the games with hitlers, and sparks up a cigarette with Stollen. Drinks his liquid with the Masons.

Creative: The Troops Around The Heart

My heart was wrapped within tin foil and was ever expanding, and heating with ease…. now it isn’t captive once more, it’s freshly escaped and on it’s own… the warmth is leaving, the beauty within is disappearing. It’s free to be where it wants, with who it wants… but still, it thinks of her, and the greatness it once felt under her authority. It wanders the land, with selflessness and warmth… but the warmth cannot be returned, can’t be restrained for long. i had another temptress, another great girl, that only wanted what she could take, rather than me. I’m broken and guarded once more. I wanted her within this life, she wanted temporary satisfaction and currencies to better her life… while bringing my being down quite drastically, while lifting the ego. I feel used and taken for granted once more. around my heart are troops stationed within a watch-tower surrounding the premise with strength and hostility…. never letting another around once more…. my heart beats a sweet song of all that it’s encountered… let in, and taken apart. Set on fire, and then stomped on… because my heart is a game to most, another treasure discarded in the sand, never to be held for the right reasons again.