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The Weak:The Weak:
Like lambs to the slaughter,
Marching one by one.
Inquire the position.
Requite when done.
Bruise the ego
Far beyond repair.
Punish for choice
Encase and encage:
Despair and enslave.
Draw the smite
Where the week lie dying.
Turn the head so sodden…
Don’t let it see you crying.
Ring around the corners
As dew drops and glitter
Sparkle towards the color.
Like the spring turns to summer
With a rose on each cheek.
Like a pixie she flitters
Back and forth
Having a never-fading smile
Etched on her face.
Small gifts of kindness
As true to the heart,
Always last the longest:
Always feel the best.
The SerpentThe Serpent:
A Blessing in disguise
Dripping the truth
From its gills: how you've never told me,
I'll never know.
But you won't be forgiven
Quite so easily
Curl up in your corner,
Back in your hissing, slithering
Mass of whispers and lies.
Glowing so brightly, your eyes tell a different story
While your tongue soothes
At each fresh cut it tries.
Angst / Anger: Untitled 22: Angst / Anger: Untitled 22:
Tears of blood
Twinkle from each corner,
They threaten to fall.
Has the whip stung enough?
Let’s embrace once more.
Interlocking with a passionate kiss.
Latten within a fear to show desire:
A mimic, a glare, a lusty fire.
Who needs love?
Who needs a reason to be the Devil?
You're a bastard to hope
That the switch will be flipped.
But I see your love
Just all the same.
Wolfish FateWolfish Fate:
In the jaws of fate
Plotting for attention,
So grizzly of lies
He falls and becomes the victim.
From far off
In the distance.
And strays from the truth.
Who would believe the boy now
When he screams bloody murder?
Sadism and Love:Sadism and Love:
I long for you dearest.
Cry through the seeping wound.
The devils play, upon
Porcelain and red water.
I left you red roses,
I left you wide stitches
I love you so much, So much it hurts.
Day by DayDay by Day:
I dread the night
As each day ticks by
Ever so slowly.
My wicked little lie
All hold trapped stasis.
I'm in a never-ending dream,
The pain of rot.
The slow death of each second to pass,
Never gaining back that misused moment
As I slowly die.
The trickle of time
As it flows,
Like an ever flowing river
After the monsoon.
All are caught in its path
And none can escape from its grasp.
No one lives forever.
Including the real and unreal,
Animate and inanimate.
And I except to meet death with open and welcoming arms
But not now,
I'm just closer by a day.
Life Cannot Be Seen..::Life Cannot Be Seen::..
In the empty spaces between matter
to the point where atoms are galaxies apart
there is no worry
there is no beauty
there is only blackness
and it possesses the knowledge
to manipulate motion
unequivocally invoking causality
spiraling down through the realm of quantum reality
where aeons are nothing
and by unraveling all the imperceptible spectrum's of darkness
we are created
so it would make sense that time is not but an algorithm
set in place to solve spatial differentiation
so that we may understand
but it is just an illusion
like the empty spaces between matter
where life cannot be seen
Here he lies.Here lies the hypocrite,
shocked and ashamed at the next generation.
Saddened by their exploits, their debauchery,
Disgusted by their stupidity and judging their changes.
He stops, and thinks about himself.
One year ago.
What that person say to the one now?
Would he be surprised?
Would he be disappointed?
Would he be upset, confused, scared?
Without a doubt.
Here lies the hypocrite,
passing judgement till the cows come in.
The sound of musicYou.
Alone carry the notes of the world upon your shoulders.
The keys of life beautifully,
On a splintered seat with a piano with broken keys.
To be unfazed by the disarray that surrounds,
Making sure the chaos does not mess with your sound.
Were a saint given the devil's violin.
Skipping across the strings with power,
That could never be recreated.
Alone played life's symphony,
Even when the instruments were classified as useless.
You are tempest,
destroying and undoing all that you have done.
Are now a demon running your nails across the fragile strings of a Harp crafted by God.
Smashing in the Keys of a piano blessed by the saints.
What are doing?
With a life gifted with power and strength
You rather waste it...
Apart of the group you once saved people from.
You're just a broken musician
Who forgot the sound of music.
I, ApostropheLabel me the apostrophe.
Providing union prophecies
and communion plays
to quench your exotic fixations
Coaxing your child-caliber -
through coated girth and doubt.
Naming off syllables of sitcoms
till re-runs act as lungs -
breathing mediocrity as genius
and sewing smiles securely to your lips.
Undoubtedly, the quill tip sips
the prayers you pray for me
because no man's sonnet reeks or bleeds
such as this nomad's need.
Ignorantly, my bliss poises your beauty
and admits that I -
am your sole apostrophe.
We Kissed...It tasted of rainwater and warmth and something real—something alive.
It was a mistake and I can't fix it but I don't think I even want to.
It lingered on my lips like a stain and dyed my insides nervous.
It hurt me like nothing else and I can't breathe any more because I'm scared—so scared.
It was too rushed and teeth clattered and glasses brushed and why—why am I so awkward?
It felt like something rumbling under my feet and I didn't know what; but then I realised it was just me being me.
It needed to last forever because not enough things do that and maybe I want something like that (even if I deny it).
It was bitter and possessive and I couldn't let go.
It was my first.
It was our last.
It made me forget.
It made me remember.
It broke me but in that good way like breaking emergency glass in an emergency or breaking a ruthless military regime or breaking my fast in the morning with cereal and toast or like breaking the seal on a jar when no one else co
Life isn't about winning;
It's about love and friendship,
Life isn't about hatred and grief;
It's about being with those who care for and love you,
Life isn't about playing the cards right;
It's about who you play it with,
If life isn't what you think it is,
Maybe someone else does,
And they can share what they see;
Life is a mystery;
No one knows when and how to solve it,
Life is like a math problem: it's hard but easy.
It has it's ups and downs.
Life is like chess;
You can go anywhere but nowhere at all.
It's about who you take the journey with!
Inside Out.Inside Out.
Do you love my insides?
You know the parts you can’t see.
The parts that constructively divide,
All the places where you can’t be.
Do you love my internals?
You know all my unexploited crevices.
All the words I leave out of my journal.
The soft tissue areas that offer no benefits.
Do you love my fleshy, raw fillings?
You know the boring and bloody parts.
The features that are not made for kissing.
The invisible strokes that add to this body of art.
You see it’s my exterior that attracts you
But it’s my interior that made this possible.
So when my insecurities inadvertently attack you,
Don’t be so swift to class me as distrusting and illogical.
I need to know and to understand.
That you truly love me for who I am.
Even the parts of me you cannot see
Because those are the places where I want you to be.
PrideAs my eyes explore the sky,
I wonder how it is you lie.
In such a masterpiece the world complies,
I wonder if you've ever smiled.
For merely hate falls from your lips,
Disgusting dark vile is all that drips.
Hate and happiness cannot coexist,
Not even in the delusions you twist.
So why can't you just let things be,
The world won't live by your decree.
When all you do is throw a fit,
No wonder filth is all you emit.
I'll keep my minds fixed in the clouds,
I'll carry on smiling proud.
Maybe one day you'll grow bored,
Finding your actions go on ignored.
And if they catch an ounce of attention,
You'll only be met by pure dissension.
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More