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I gaze up at
the Stars at night
They glisten like tears
of Heaven's Angels
But, they burn hotter
than the Fires of Hell
And yet, we all gaze up
at the Stars at night
The Road to RuinThe Road to Ruin
As I walk on down, this gloomy path,
I often wonder why,
People in this world unleash their wrath,
While others live and others die.
Many in this world, do not give a care,
While there many more who do.
But even they would not take such a dare,
Imagine if they only knew.
It's like I'm trapped in a cell, on my way to Hell,
In a never-ending dream, I'm unable to scream,
The walls are closing in, on this world full of Sin,
And it's on the Road to Ruin.
I often ask myself, why this path I walk,
There's no sign of the light of day,
The people only stare, they don't want to talk,
Surely there's another way.
The world is the cell, on its way to Hell,
Like an unforgiving dream, it's impossible to scream,
The walls are closing in, I'm surrounded by Sin,
And I'm on the Road to Ruin.
I have had enough, this really needs to end,
So I turn my back on the path and Sin,
But the world has wounds, that will need to mend,
But it's on the Road to Ruin.
Fire and DustFire and Dust
Tell me Dust,
where is it
you come from?
Why is it
you are here?
You present presence
is profoundly prevalent
around my room.
It doesn't matter
how hard that
I try to
rid myself of
you and yours,
you're like a
very bad itch.
No matter how
hard I try,
you keep on
coming back here.
So tell me,
Dust, do you
burn? Everything does,
and in fact,
I'd like to
see you, Dust,
turn to Ash.
If it rids
me of you,
it will all
be worth while,
you know it,
Ashes to Ashes.
But no, no,
you don't burn
easily, do you...
And while it
would be so
entertaining to watch
you burn into
the obliviating fire,
you'd come back.
And I would
be left with
Dust to Dust.
The LighthouseThe Lighthouse
Residing upon a cliff of rock
stands a silent guardian of light,
it works constantly around the clock,
to look at it is quite a sight.
The Lighthouse is surrounded, by trees both pine and elm,
its 300 foot tall and a grand sight for the eyes
for ship captains who preside at the ship's helm,
who hope to avert a watery demise.
The Keeper, a kind and elderly man,
works hard to make sure everything is all right.
As his dog walks with him, the Keeper's steady hand
is used to maintain the Light.
As the night turns to day
the Keeper lets out a yawn,
he stares out to sea, the clouds are overcast gray
and he turns out the Light, for its dawn.
As he locks the door behind him tight,
he can't wait to get home to see his wife;
ready for when he works later that night
he's quite glad to be living this life.
Treasure NestTreasure Nest
It's half-past after midnight
when a lone boat rows ashore,
a man jumps out, without a shout,
as if he's been here once before
He is in fact the Captain
of a famous pirate ship,
his crew, however, don't even know
the details of this trip
The Captain then sets off to work
and lifts a little, wooden chest,
it's time to start his jungle trek
if he's to reach his Treasure Nest
All throughout the jungle
it's like an echo of the grave
blackened skulls and rotted bones
strike terror in hearts most brave
All who see this island
avoid it at all cost,
to them the island's cursed and damned,
an Island of the Lost
In the middle of the island
lay a ruined pirate ship
as the Captain puts down the chest
to start this leg of his trip
He pulls out a gilded iron key
and sticks it in the door,
it then opens up to reveal
what he'd been looking for
In front of is a staircase
that circles round and round,
but the thing about this set of stairs
is that it goes deep underground
The Captain hoist
Dishes, the bane of my existence,
you rise up high like mountains
of the earth and the water of the
sink, a rain on my parade.
The army of forks, knives, and spoons,
poke, prod, and cut at my hands as I
force them to bathe, despite their steadfast
unwillingness. I drinse and drinse the plates
and bowls, adding weight to my already heavy
arms. Even Hercules, wouldn't dare challenge this
never-ending army of swords and pitchforks.
It makes me feel as if I am the
only one able to quell the uprising of
dishes. I fight back with brush, soap, and sponge, the
burning water sears the plates, bowls, and silverware,
but at the cost of my burned hands. The dishes scowl
and curse as I place them in their soapy, boiling prison.
For I am the bane of their existence, as they are the bane
No CompromiseNo Compromise
One says we were Created,
The other says we Evolved.
An ongoing battle that has no end in sight,
And yet Religion and Science continue to fight.
What good does it do? What's there to gain?
As I hear more about it I think "What a pain"
Why can't they just leave each other alone,
Who truly knows what's not and what's known?
Religion, who gave you the right denounce goals scientific,
Sometimes your actions are downright horrific.
And Science, what right do you have to say Religion's unreal,
Why can't you two come to some sort of deal?
But there will be No Compromise, as far as I can tell,
As both of you still give each other hell.
I'm tired of this, if you wish to know,
I'll go ahead and give this riddle a go.
So, in my attempt to try and solve,
"Who says we weren't Created to Evolve?"
It's the best of both worlds, at least in my eyes,
But they're still at war, there is No Compromise.
A KeyA Key
So simple a tool
yet, so effective its use
It unlocks that which we seek
and protects that which we hide
It can bring enlightenment
or can cause darkness
So effective its use
yet, so simple a tool
Epitaph for a GravediggerEpitaph for a Gravedigger
In all your years of what you did,
you did what you did best,
you did what no one else would do,
to that, I can attest.
Many thought you just dug the holes
and of you would often jest.
But you opened "doors" for souls,
so that they may finally rest.
You took great pride in what you did
but there were still those who would scoff,
but, you were a humble "Chauffeur of Souls"
and the last to see them off.
When your life was at its end
and you finally breathed your last,
I swore I would not break or bend
and unto me your torch was passed.
I was there to see you off,
at this, your journey's end
of you, no more will people scoff,
may you rest in peace, my friend.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More