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the seas endless crescendo,
summer roses,
shadowy inks of the stars.
 Jul 2016 aar505n
Olga Valerevna
But what is the answer when people have died
and why is the question still asked at this time
We've *l
earned to be human in so many ways
attacking the Spirit and numbering days
We've broken the sky yet we beg for the sun
it shines without choosing, on everyone
We're made of the same down to every cell
let's stop drawing lines to put others through hell
The skin on our bodies was beautifully made
akin to the soul we were given in faith
Remember beginnings as endings to come
although they come slowly but hasten for some
As people we're called to be servants of those
who enter our circle when nobody knows
Matthew 5:45
loving without being loved is a tough one but happiness is something a little different; happiness is the only thing you can give without having and through happiness you will find love. We can only then hope that love leads you to love others, not destroy them.
Ever fantasise about dissolving oneself in a vat of acid?
Took so many psychedelics I very nearly lost it; it being
ego, ergo, myself. Found a solution, and don't give a ****!
'swear.
 Jul 2016 aar505n
Samm Marie
My cousins sometimes
Need an escape
From their hellacious
Lives
 Jul 2016 aar505n
Alexis Walkes
When you said your last goodbyes I died a little bit inside.
It hurt like hell, It still hurts.
I loved and I cared and I lost you.
Hiding my emotions from the world concealing the fact that I was charmed by love.
I became who I used to laugh at,
I was a fool in love.
A.W
 Jul 2016 aar505n
Speaking Sorrow
Night fell on my shoulders
And my fellow man
Took turns taking rests
Deep within the ship.

And for the first night in weeks,
I stood at the front of the ship.
Your pipe in my pocket,
My writings in my coat.

I reminisce of the days
Where it was just me and you,
My Captain.

I’d roll a cigarette with old tobacco
And you’d pack your pipe.
And pour me a glass,
Of the alcohol you kept in your cabin.

I’d tell you my stories,
And you’d laugh and cry with me.

And every time you spoke
Wisdom poured out.

And now that you’re gone
I’m losing myself out here.

No wisdom comes from my mouth,
I salivate anger,
I spit rage,
Yet I am silent.

I cannot fill your shoes.
I cannot be you.
 Jul 2016 aar505n
Keah Jones
wanting death is a poison
it takes over selfishly  
the slow seduction of the devil
the encroaching madness of the clown at the carnival
a stampede of stallions running straight at you
and snow whites situation doesn't sound that bad

leaves become razor blades hanging off of brittle branches
laughter becomes nails on a chalk board screeching into your ears
the wind bites and slices you to pieces
and no matter how fast you run hell is at your heels
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