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Marie Nov 2020
i feel a certain certainty
that i am going to burn myself
in the warmth of your fire.

i used to be so afraid of getting burned.
but the longer i'm in this fever dream,
the less i seem to care.

if i must be icarus
unable to resist reaching for the sun,
then so be it.
if i must be icarus
flying headfirst and blind,
trying to find your heart of hearts,
then so be it.

yes, he burned
and he fell.
but has anyone
ever known the sun
as only icarus did?

so let me burn
and let me fall,
fall hard into the cruel blue ocean waves.

let me know what your sunlight is like at point-blank range.
oscar Nov 2020
a child stands before you
begging to devour your wit
praying to steal your eyes.

he is looking at you,
he who no longer has a body
no longer has a voice,
he who was made translucent,
he is looking
through you
and howls his white-hot heart:

'how does one live,
how can one love,
if one feels no anguish?

first, there lies death;
then, a massacre of void-kissed beliefs.
and then, only then, can there be life
which bears little importance.'

the sage muse of tragedy
holds in her forgiving palm
the secret of your
divine-poisoned sap,

she kisses your bones;
tied together by vine branches
born from the hands of fervid dionysus.
you hear her inside your skin:

'i know how weary your throat is
of singing (screaming) the same hymns.
dip them in terror, see them
drip with slaughter and doom
and ablaze cries and a
long-forgotten deity’s roar and —'

the last words die off
between your soiled fingers,
on the bloodstained ground.
We never thought in our lives that elders dying will be amongst our lives,
losing our loved ones is a heartache, but the virus you put out is a treacherous outbreak.
No compassion, sympathy or souls you have, because all Bill Gates has is a chip in hand.
The world was once sought to be a beautiful place, until a ****** was born out of place.
The corruption of this world isn't because of you or me, but the one who stands before us on the high chair of a governmental seat.
The serpents tongue slivers and shakes and the lies come out it's poisonous stake.
We need to come together as a whole, forget the fear because end is near, we must run with armed forces in our hands to the throne and temple at arms to cote and **** the snake with 7 heads, each and every one at once to destroy what' is coming to us.
Then hopefully we will survive, but we mustn't give up without a fight.    
How dare they force to vacc and chip us with their evil redemption of a cast pit plan, masking us to the point of a hypoxia death.
We the people need to make a stand, forget the rest and fight the Medusa head which lays amongst our earth.
We must banish, and forbid, to stretch away it's evil temptress of all for then once again we can live a life for all.
We need to fight this year and the next, never give up.
I wasn't taken, Mama.
I went willingly, pomegranate
juice staining my lips ******.

I am not helpless, Mama.
I am darkness, power, a Queen.
You gave me flowers and he gave me
his everlasting worship.

I am his queen, Mama, his goddess.
He says that I am the one that
brought him to his knees, Mama,
and he is right. I am a terrible
beauty, and oh, I put him on
his hands and knees in worship.

Do not come looking for me, Mama,
because your innocent flower is
nowhere to be found. All that is
left is blood and bone and
pomegranate juice staining my
hands and mouth and setting me free.
Another one that I've had in my notebook that I never got around to posting.
Icarus laughed as he fell;
The golden ichor streaming
From his nose, his mouth,
His spun tresses behind him
Fluttering as angel wings do.

Icarus screamed as he plummeted
to the earth; melted wax
scalding his shoulders where
his wings once were; broken
feathers fluttering in his firey wake.

Apollo mourned as Icarus fell,
not a sound issued from his
doomed lips. His wings, torn
and broken and burned, danced
behind him, more lively than
Icarus would ever be.
I've had this one in my notebook for a while; I just never got around to actually posting it.
Fey Nov 2020
where did the smoke travel to
flame dead of the wick's woe
where did you go when
chronos stopped time and
aphrodite longed to see you
as the candle's grime continues
to taint the glass from
transparent to white and black
where you onced had vanished to.

© fey (05/11/20)
Alex Fontaine Nov 2020
I see so many people,
Who carry their dread,
Like concrete umbrellas,
Up over their heads.

No time for sunlight-
Preparing for rain.
Ready to fight-
But not to feel pain.

All wrapped up in themselves,
Discontent with their lives,
Like they’re owed something else,
Than a good day to die.

Awareness floats on an eternal sea,
A glittering instant of consciousness ,
Vibrating between unrealities,
On a firmament of impermanence.

For no reason deciding to spring up from the ground,
As we careen through an exploding universe.
We spend our time trying to tear each other down,
The hue of our flesh sacks determining what we’re worth.

The earth is our mother and my ancestors are there,
I’m not scared to die as I was born- screaming and naked-
To love life as a moth loves fire is to live a prayer;
I am terrified of the moment being wasted.

Hope and freedom are not found
Behind the illusion of truth.
Look to Prometheus bound-
Who cares little to nothing for Zeus.
“A fool thinks he will live forever if only he can avoid a fight, but old age will bring him no peace, even if weapons do.” Havamal 16
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