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A group of three poems
In The End

Death stalks the living like a hidden killer waiting in the shadows, blade at the ready, glimmering like a crescent moon on a starry night. Feel his breath on your neck, the icy chill of the wind and his eyes, the unknown presence that arouses the hairs to stand to attention like so many soldiers waiting to enter the fray. Tick Tock Tick Tock, can you hear the clock ticking, seconds falling away into the void, falling forever, endlessly and motionless, carcases of life lost to the sand. The weight of living bears down on us like so much gravity, crushing us more and more, misshaping us, offering hunched back and crooked joints as time wears us away, eroding us like the waves wear away the cliff, crashing eternally. Can you taste him, the hidden presence of decay hidden in every meal, for you consume his work and devour his art to sustain life. His smell, carried on the wind that caresses your face like the gentle hand of a lover long lost, marking you, kissing you for you will be his. In the end, he will take you, his loving embrace cutting swathe through all that you have surrounded yourself with as he carries you away on blackened wings, free and loving. Embrace him for he loves and is merciful, he watches over you even now as you read this, whispering sweet nothings into your ear like a spectral Romeo wooing his Juliet. He is the first and last love you will ever know, he is legion, he is death and one day, he will come for his lost children and embrace you, his hug forever sweet and everlasting.

The Long Contradiction

We are but dust, waiting to be blown away by the gentle breeze of the ages as memories fade like a photograph left in the sun, bleaching our thoughts like the remnants of bone and desolate beings. Gone are the times of joy and laughter, snatched away mid breath by a thief who has no face and no name but is everywhere and nowhere. Born of both misery and happiness yet not one is better than the other as both are but a feeling to show life and should be rejoiced in equal parts of rapture and loathing. Each heartbeat brings us closer to life and death, like a glorious swan song spelling out our sweet sweet sorrows for the world to hear. Such beauty is lost upon the likes of man who was born with ears but lacks the ability to truly listen, he hears only the voice of his mind that speaks of his goodness and truth. Spread forth the gospel of pain and suffering that both life and death for the two dance endlessly and tirelessly, spinning on the edge of reason yet so close indeed. Fear not the end but embrace the start and shy away from the evils of life itself lest you be tainted and drink from its waters. For without life there is no death and death no life so celebrate them both for they are legion and they are hungry. Glorious is the puppet cut of its strings for it has no master and no life, yet no sorrow.


Hark o the call the suffering children for they have no voice, a cry out in anguish suddenly silenced by the evils of man. Fear not the end sweet child for in the end there is much to rejoice, a end to sadness across the plagues our land.

The evils of war spread on swift wings, turning brother on brother and families distraught. Is there no end to the seeping madness sweet and seductive like a lover, she melds in our thought.

Innocent lives stolen, torn from existence by bloodied hands and dirty fingernails, rendering heartache without mercy. Children converted and mutated into mindless killers with a taste for blood that is unquenchable renders them thirsty.

The time of man, ruled by a iron fist of officials and diplomats, comfortably placed in the safety of their brethren. Millions extinguished at a moments notice, expendable soldiers march to their demise, fresh charred flesh that won’t see heaven.

Lives lost needlessly, the children cry, parents grieve, all which falls like tears from angels, absorbed into the blood soaked earth no splash for nothin. Why do we die, destroy our lives, for fear of living. How long until god himself pushes that button?
[Image: bigdaddy.png] [Image: fallenangelscopyph6.png]
Great poems Smile

I am particularly fond of "In the End", as I enjoyed the theme of inevitability running through it.
"Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice: It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved."

William Jennings Bryan

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