In a tale of heartbreak, a story unfolds,
Where love was los, and pain took its
goddamn toll.
They fucking left in search of greener
pastures afar,
But found no solace, no guiding star.
Their return, not born from a fucking
affectionate embrace, but from a void
Wherever they fucking wandered, none
cared to lend an ear, And so, they sought
solace, drawing fucking near.
Yet, let not your goddamn heart be swayed
by their return, for their motives lie in the
lessons they did goddamn learn.
When they come knocking, Seeking solace's
goddamn clout,
Shut them the fuck out, for your heart
deserves no goddamn doubt.
Remember, dear soul, the strength that
resides, The resilience that within you
presides.
For you, the one who cared when no one did,
Hold your goddamn ground, let their
absence fucking forbid.
Embrace the truth, let wisdom be your
fuckin guide,
In this tale of love's unraveling goddamn
tide.
For their return, a fleeting moment it shall
be,
Shut them the fuck out, set your own
goddamn spirit free.
resilience
Art vs Expectations
In a world where dreams were cast aside, My artistic fire began to hide. The people around me, their doubts grew strong, "Study harder, child, don't you want to belong?" Ambitions suppressed, I followed their lead, Achieving straight A's, fulfilling their creed. But empty was my heart, devoid of delight, For I craved the canvas, the colors so bright. High school arrived, my facade crumbled fast, Grades slipped away, like grains in an hourglass. Yet within the chaos, a spark reappeared, 1 picked up my pencil, my passion revered. Years lost, creativity held in chains, But I embraced art, despite the pains. And amidst the struggle, a glimmer of hope, For my mother's support, like a lifeline, she'd rope. Yet weary I grew, tired of pretense, Of family's false pride, their shallow defense. Demanding my work, their voices would persist, But their words felt hollow, a mocking twist. So now I break free, from their expectations, Seeking my path, defying frustrations. For art is my essence, my soul's sweet release, Not measured by praise or societal peace. I'll paint with resilience, my spirit aflame, With strokes of passion, I'II etch my own name. No longer bound by their doubtful embrace, I'll forge my own destiny, in colors I trace. For true fulfillment lies in following my heart, In art's vast canvas, I'll find my true art. No more seeking validation or lies to appease, I’ll paint my own masterpiece, my soul's masterpiece.
Warriors Echo
23/7/4
Version 1
In the depths of battle's fiery embrace, A voice awakens, relentless in peace. Whispering secrets, urging me to stand, To wield my weapon with unwavering hand. Inside my soul, it echoes with might, A call to arms, dispelling all fright. No matter the damage, my body may bear, I press forward, fueled by an eternal flare. The voice resounds, a steadfast guide, Through the darkest hours, it won't subside. Leaking blood, a small cost to endure, For victory's taste, so sweet and pure. Even when my functions begin to wane, The voice declares I shall rise again, A warrior's spirit, undying and strong, To fulfill my purpose, where I belong. For in this symphony of chaos and strife, I march ahead, embracing this life. The voice, my anthem, forever rings true, Inspiring valor, forging me anew. So heed this tale of the voice within, Embrace its fervor, let the battle begin. For warriors arise, unyielding, and brave, Till the final victory, their souls shall engrave. Version 2 In the depths of battle's hellish blaze, A voice emerges, harsh and bleak, Whispering curses, compelling me to stay, To brandish my weapon with despairing streak.
Within my soul, it howls with dread, A call to arms, sowing seeds of dread. No matter the torment, my body may face, I trudge onward, burdened by relentless pace. The voice resounds, an unwavering guide, Through the blackest hours, refusing to hide. Spilling blood, a sacrifice I endure, For victory's semblance, obscured and impure. Even as my essence begins to decay, The voice insists I shall rise, decayed and frayed, A warrior's ghost, unyielding and grim, To fulfill my purpose, where life grows dim. For in this discordant symphony of pain, I march ahead, embracing my own disdain. The voice, my requiem, ceaselessly screams, Injecting valor, tearing at my seams. So heed this chronicle of the voice inside, Embrace its torment, let the battle collide. For warriors emerge, unyielding, yet drenched, Till the final slaughter, their souls eternally quenched.
Guilt VS. Denial
Prompt: Denying Guilt
Purpose: Bleak
Prompt convo: Xalu, God Of Hatred: Do you blame yourself? Namos: What? Xalu, God Of Hatred: Well, it's quite common in this situation for a person to feel some type of...Guilt. Namos: What situation? Xalu, God Of Hatred: The accident.
In shadows deep, where hatred resides,
Xalu, the God, with words he chides.
“Do you blame yourself?” he asks with glee,
As guilt’s heavy cloak engulfs me.
“What situation?” I question, confused,
His gaze, piercing and keen, I’m accused.
“The accident,” he whispers with spite,
A moment, a tragedy, lost in the night.
But I, with steadfast resolve, deny,
Unaware of his accusations awry.
“No accidents caused, no pain I’ve dealt,
Guilt’s burden upon me, I’ve never felt.”
Denial, my shield, he scoffs and sneers,
For guilt, he claims, brings despair and tears.
Yet I stand firm, innocence proclaimed,
No evidence shown, no truth defamed.
Innocent or guilty, truth I seek,
A mere pawn in his game, I won’t be meek.
Baseless accusations, I won’t abide,
Manipulation’s grasp, I’ll cast aside.
For guilt, unfounded, can’t break my soul,
I won’t succumb, I’ll remain whole.
Righteousness and truth shall guide my way,
Through darkness, I’ll find the light’s pure ray.
Xalu laughs, dark laughter echoes loud,
But I won’t bow beneath his shroud.
Guilt’s weight, I refuse to bear,
A burden unjust, I’ll never wear.
In pursuit of truth, my spirit shall rise,
Redemption and growth before my eyes.
Guilt’s grasp, I’ll resist with unwavering strength,
Embracing hope, embracing its length.
So, Xalu, your words shall not deceive,
In bleakness, my spirit won’t believe.
For I choose to embrace a different song,
Where resilience and truth shall make me strong.
Resilience Reborn
Prompt: Therapist: “Please we don’t want to hurt you.”
Patient: (Remembering every horrid thing they’ve been through finally screaming) Hurt…hurt me? You will never hurt me again!!!
In a therapist’s gentle room, a patient seeks solace,
A heart weighed down, burdened by pain’s endless chase.
The therapist, with tender care, implores with concern,
“Please, we don’t want to hurt you,” their words softly yearn.
But deep within the patient’s soul, a tempest does ignite,
Memories of horrors endured, piercing through the night.
Every wound, every torment, etched upon their mind,
A haunting reel of suffering, too cruel and unkind.
Then, in a moment of truth, the dam finally breaks,
A scream of defiance, a vow that no one forsakes.
“Hurt me? Hurt me?” the patient’s voice resounds,
A declaration born from strength, no longer bound.
For within their battle-hardened spirit, a fire ignites,
A flame of resilience, burning through darkest nights.
The therapist listens, witnessing their soul unfold,
Touched by the rawness, the story yet untold.
“You will never hurt me again!” echoes through the air,
A proclamation of triumph, breaking free from despair.
In those words, a rebirth, a reclamation of power,
A testament to the patient’s resilience, hour after hour.
And the therapist, understanding the depths of the plea,
Respects the journey, as only a guide can truly see.
Together they walk, hand in hand, through healing’s door,
Creating a haven where wounds find solace and restore.
In that sacred space, where vulnerability finds its due,
A poem of survival blooms, crafted by hearts anew.
A testament to the patient’s courage, to their unyielding might,
For within their wounded soul, a warrior takes flight.
Whispers of the Soul
Poem Request by Julian: The category he chose beside the 5 random wheel spins is “Fear”
Amidst ancient realms, where cherry blossoms sway,
In the land of the rising sun, a poet finds his way.
In the spirit of Japanese dynasty’s grace,
Let verses be woven, each line a sacred space.
Through the veil of time, retrospective tides flow,
Revealing the web of causality’s intricate glow.
Realization, like moonlight on tranquil seas,
Illuminate paths, where destiny finds its keys.
Resilience, a virtue cherished, Samurai’s heart aflame,
Embracing challenges, never yielding to shame.
With katana’s edge, the spirit cuts through strife,
Fierce resolve standing firm, in the dance of life.
In whispers of betrayal, echoes of disharmony,
Samurais’honor tested, blades of loyalty keen.
Through honor’s code, they navigate the storm,
Seeking justice and harmony, the way of the noble norm.
Celestial secrets, whispered by ancient skies,
Astrology’s wisdom, an emperor’s allies.
Stars paint stories, woven in cosmic design,
Guiding souls with grace, a celestial shrine.
Fear, a shadow that dances upon the soul’s stage,
But samurais rise, courageous and sage.
They face the darkness with unwavering might,
Embracing fear’s challenge, to reclaim the light.
In this poetic voyage, let the ancient dynasty’s spirit soar,
Verse by verse, in reverence we explore.
Within these words, echoes of a bygone age,
Japanese beauty and grace, forever on the page.
Telstra’s Resolve
“What are you doing? Why are you still holding…back?! Have you forgotten what they said to us? What they did? They think you’re a monster!! Prove them RIGHT!!!”
Telstra Spinx
In a moment of tempestuous plight,
Telstra’s powers flicker, a dormant might,
“What are you doing? Why hold back the flame?
Have you forgotten their words, their cruel game?
They label you a monster, an abhorrent sight,
But their ignorance blinds them from your true light.
Unleash the fury that dwells deep within,
Prove them right, let the storm begin!
For they know not the strength you possess,
The resilience within, the power to impress.
Rise, oh Telstra, embrace your might,
Unleash your essence, ignite the night!
No more shall their judgment chain you down,
No longer will you wear society’s frown.
With defiance as your guide, your spirit alight,
Prove them right, let your powers take flight!
Break the shackles, set your soul free,
Embrace the monster they claim you to be.
In your flames, their doubts shall ignite,
A testament to the power they failed to sight.
Oh Telstra, let their whispers fade,
Your destiny awaits, in darkness you wade.
Prove them right, let your strength unfurl,
For within your heart, an extraordinary world.”
Echoes of the Unrealized
Quote: “Suddenly you realize you’ll never have the good relationship you wanted. But as long as they were alive even though you’d never admit it. Part of you, the stupidest goddamn part of you is still holding on to that chance.”
In the depths of longing, a bittersweet truth, A realization dawns, a heartache's sleuth. The good relationship you sought, forever denied, Yet a flicker remains, deep within, can't hide. Suddenly, clarity strikes, a painful blow, The truth echoes, as if in a whispering flow. Though you won't admit, a secret held tight, A part of you clings, yearning for that light. The foolish par, relentless and strong, Holding onto hope, against all that's wrong. For as long as they're alive, a silver of chance, Keeps the ember of possibility in a dance. But the truth stands firm, unyielding and clear, The good relationship desired, destined to veer. Yet still, you hold on, a silent tribute to the past, A testament to love's endurance, steadfast.
Via Sanguinis et Honoris/Path of Blood and Honour
Honour, a virtue of a profound esteem,
What lies within your grasp, do you deem?
You, who've never tasted fear's bitter breath,
Learn of honour, ere posing as a warrior, death.
Before you tread upon that crimson lane,
Where no false steps endure, none remain,
A path that stretches to the endless abyss,
Where melody dies and knees gently kiss.
Sorrow intertwines with agony's sting,
And praise takes the hue of blood, echoing.
This path leads but one way, no retreat,
With foes and comrades, its trials complete.
It snatches without mercy, devoid of remorse,
Into the hands of death, on this perilous course.
For the name bestowed upon you, a weight to bear,
And for your ancestors, their legacy to share.
Fearful Manifestation
In the depths of despair, where shadows dance,
A quote lingers, invoking a chilling trance,
“Fear will be your downfall, peasant,” it cries,
A bleak lamentation, as hope slowly dies.
Oh, hapless peasant, lost in fear’s cruel grip,
Your trembling soul, with anguish, starts to slip,
Like vultures circling, fear preys upon your mind,
Feeding on doubts, leaving scars undefined.
In the bleak abyss, where nightmares reside,
Whispers of terror grow, like a rising tide,
Fear’s bony fingers, upon your spirit they prey,
Dragging you down into an endless decay.
Each step you take, burdened by doubt’s chains,
Trapped in a labyrinth of agonizing pains,
The voice of reason drowned in fear’s wailing cries,
Your dreams crushed, beneath ominous skies.
Dark tendrils of despair, they smother your will,
Rendering you powerless, unable to fulfill,
Fear paints illusions, distorting every sight,
A desolate landscape where hope takes flight.
“Fear will be your downfall,” the chant echoes still,
A haunting reminder of your soul’s impending ill,
But amidst the shadows, a flicker of defiance gleams,
A glimmer of strength, born from shattered dreams.
For in the darkest nights, embers still ignite,
A beacon of resilience, burning ever bright,
Rise, oh weary peasant, from fear’s cold embrace,
Unleash the fire within, let it leave its trace.
Confront the specters that haunt your broken mind,
With eyes ablaze, the darkness you shall blind,
For fear’s dominion is but a feeble façade,
In your heart, a warrior, unyielding and unflawed.
Though fear may whisper, its words filled with dread,
Carry on, dear peasant, with courage as your thread,
And as you journey through the realms of despair,
Unleash your spirit, for it shall never wear.
Though fear may threaten to be your tragic fate,
Embrace the shadows, for they too shall abate,
For in the depths of darkness, resilience shall rise,
And fear, defeated, shall meet its own demise.
So let the bleakness of fear become your guide,
Through its chilling depths, let your strength preside,
For in the face of darkness, a glimmer of hope is sown,
And fear, your downfall, shall be overthrown.