Sacrificio burlado

Version 1

In the realm of Lamos, where shadows
creep,
Vekir, the Guardian, was awakened from
sleep.
He gazed upon the hero, with a mocking
stare,
For something amiss, a burden she did
bear.

"Wait," said Vekir, his voice dripping disdain,
"Something's different, your demeanor
is not the same.
No longer noble, no longer pure,
What have you done, dear hero, to ensure
That ancient blade clutched tight within
your grasp,
A prize obtained by sacrifice, a deadly
clasp?"

He sneered at her, his eyes gleaming with 
scorn,
As her tears mixed with blood, a forlorn
mourn.
Kneeling there, one knee pressed against
the stone,
Her heart weighed heavy, with sacrifice
unknown.

"Oh, how brave you are, a blade so rare,
Obtained by shedding blood, a life you dare.
Tell me, hero, who did you forsake,
To wield that weapon, your soul a stake?
A loved one, perhaps, once close and dear,
Their life extinguished, their memory
seared?"

The hero trembled, her voice but a whisper,
"Vekir, Guardian of Lamos, my heart's
blister,
I gave up someone, someone I hold dear,
Their sacrifice fuels this blade of fear.
You mock my pain, my burden so deep,
But know this, Vekir, even shadows weep."

Vekir laughed, a wicked sound in the air,
Mocking her anguish, reveling in dispair.
"Shadows weep? How quaint, a feeble plea,
A blade stained with blood, a heart torn 
apart,
Your noble facade crumbling, a broken art."
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Verwickelte Saiten

Within the realm of manipulation's grasp,
The push & pull technique holds a clasp.
It starts with push, a deliberate shove,
Undermining your confidence, testing your 
love.

With calculated words & actions unkind,
They create a doubt & confusion in your
mind.
Criticism & disapproval become their art,
Weakening your spirit, tearing apart.

Then comes the pull, a strategic allure,
They shower you with affection, sweet &
pure.
With love & compliments, they draw you 
near,
Creating a sense of dependency,
fueling your fear.

The push & pull, a dance of control,
Leaving you vulnerable, lost in their role.
They make you believe they hold the key,
To happiness, validation, & feeling free.

The outcome of this manipulative game,
Is a power imbalance, a life filled with 
shame.
You become reliant on their whims & 
desires,
Trapped in a cycle, their puppet on
wires.

Your self-esteem crumbles, your identity
fades,
As you're pulled closer, entangled in their 
charades.
They exploit your emotions, your need to be
loved,
Leaving you empty, like a wounded
dove.
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Longing for the Void

In the depths of silence, a Longing Burns,
To Embrace the void, where Anger Churns,
Where shadows Dance, and echoes Fade,
Alone with myself, In A Rage Unswayed.

In this realm of emptiness, I find release,
No masks to wear, no pretense, no peace,
Just the raw essence of fury untamed,
A solitary soul, with anger inflamed.

No judgment here, no prying eyes,
No need to hide the seething cries,
In the void, I'm free to just be,
To vent, to roar, to set myself free.

No need to conform to the world's design,
In the silence, rage and truth align,
To unleash the depths of my soul's disdain,
To find the strength to embrace the pain.

I long for the void, where time suspends,
No distractions, no ties, no amends,
In the stillness, my heart finds its song,
A symphony of solitude, angry and strong.

To wander unbound through vast cosmic 
dust,
In the solitude, I learn to trust,
To face myself, my wrath, my tears,
To embrace the rage without any fears.

No one around to judge or compare,
In the void, I'm free from the world's cold 
stare,
I'll seek solace there, where stars shine 
bright,
And unleash the fury, both day and night.

For in the void, I find my truest me,
Unburdened, unbound, unfettered, and 
free,
A dance of rage, a solitary thrust,
In the boundless void, I find my trust.
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Tranquil Transition

Created: 23/7/23 @ 17:24

As a man, I cherish moments calm,
A respite from the bustling race, When 
entering a place, a healing balm,
To ease the mind, find inner space.

Confronted conversations, swift and bold,
They weigh upon my waking state, To be 
informed of tasks I'm told,
Can fuel the fires of inner debate.

Criticism's sting, a bitter blow,
Especially when the day's begun,
Yet in the void, I find a flow,
A chance to breathe, to be undone.

Returning home from toil and strain, 
I seek the solace of garage stairs, In the "void," a
realm without refrain, 
A sanctuary from worldly cares.

Minutes spent in tranquil though,
A bridge between worlds, a sacred rite,
From work's domain to peace I'm brought,
As the sun surrenders to the night.

In this transition, I find release,
The gentle pause before I enter, From noise
to calm, my mind's at peace, The "void" a
buffer, a mental center.

Let this cherished ritual endure,
A sacred space to call my own,
A moment's grace to feel secure,
Before life's currents are full-blown.

 

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Mirrored Deception

23/7/25

In the realm of manipulation's artful guise, 
Resides a tactic where deceit does arise.
The Mirror Effect, a cunning masquerade, 
A manipulator's game so skillfully played.

They study you closely, observe with keen eye, 
To mimic your manner, to imitate your why.
Reflections they become, your traits they acquire,
Crafting a mirrored image, stoking desire.

With practiced precision, they mirror your grace, 
Adapting their gestures, your essence they embrace.
Their words echo yours, your beliefs they align,
Creating an illusion, a connection so fine.

But behind the facade, there lies a disguise, 
A web of deceit, spun with calculated lies.
They seek to control, to mold your will,
Using your own reflection, their purpose to fulfill.

Beware the mirrored tricks, the artful deceit, 
For beneath their reflection, motives may retreat.
Hold on to your truth, your individuality,
Don't let their mirrored web ensnare your reality.

In the face of the mirror, stay vigilant and strong, 
Know your own worth, where you truly belong.
Break free from their grasp, reclaim your own voice, 
And shatter the illusion, make your own choice.

For the Mirror Effect may try to misguide, 
But authenticity and self-awareness will be your guide.
Stay true to yourself, let your light shine bright, 
And escape the clutches of their mirrored night.
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Deceptive Embrace: Unmasking Love Bombing

23/7/20

In a realm of deceit, where shadows dance, 
There lies a tactic, a cruel romance.
Love bombing, it's called, a manipulative art,
A toxic allure, a deceitful sweetheart.

With honeyed words and gestures grand, 
They sweep you up in their cunning plan.
Like a whirlwind of affection, they draw you near, 
But beware, my friend, for danger lurks here.

They shower you with praise, a captivating spell,
Their affection overwhelms, like a sweet-scented swell.
They whisper promises, make you feel adored, 
But beneath the surface, a trap is carefully stored.

Love bombing, a facade, a twisted embrace, 
Designed to bind you in a tight, suffocating space.
Their affections, like petals, wilt and fade, 
Leaving you broken, vulnerable, betrayed.

Their love is a weapon, a manipulative game, 
To control your thoughts, your actions, your name.
They prey on your vulnerabilities, exploit your desire,
Leaving you lost, consumed by the fire.

But listen, dear heart, do not be swayed,
For love should be gentle, not a game to be played.
Recognize the signs, the false promises they bring, 
And break free from the chains of their insidious string

Hold onto your worth, your strength, and your voice, 
Don't let their love bombing drown out your choice.
In the face of their tactics, stand tall and strong, 
For true love is patient, it would never steer you wrong.

So, shield your heart, be cautious, be wise,
Don't let love bombing cloud your clear skies.
Find love that's authentic, built on trust and respect, 
And let manipulative tactics be forever in retrospect.
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Isopraxism

23/7/16

 

In a realm where knowledge weaves its threads, 
Instructor Lumen to Vunar Lexos gently treads,
Teaching the art of manipulation's finesse,
A subtle dance where truth may acquiesce.

A whisper shared, a secret to unveil,
To make others divulge, their words prevail,
With isopraxism's cunning guise,
Inquirer's guise, truth shall arise.

"If you want to know secrets concealed,
Listen closely, let your senses yield,
Repeat their words with inquisitive grace,
Inquire anew, in this art embrace."

For in the echo of a sentence rephrased, 
Like a question's allure, subtly raised,
The listener unknowingly reveals,
Information concealed, like secrets unsealed.

Through linguistic dance, minds intertwine,
As Lumen's wisdom unravels the design, 
Isopraxism, the unspoken key,
Unveils the truth, sets the deceiver free.

So let us learn, in this intriguing sphere, 
To manipulate gently, without undue fear, 
For knowledge and power entwined in art, 
Can shape a destiny, in every heart.
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Unveiling Worth: The Honest Emissary’s Truth

23/7/13

In the depths of doubt, I hear you now,
The Honest Emissary, wisdom's vow.
Why do you falter, human soul?
Believing you're not good enough. a toll?
Such words deceive, a cunning snare,
Creating standards that bring despair.

Unveil the truth, let it be known,
There is no measure where you're shown
Less than the brilliance you possess,
A treasure hidden, yet to impress.
Banish comparisons that poison your mind,
Life's not a contest, nor a race to find.

Instead, turn inward, gaze within,
Discover your essence, let it begin.
Embrace your strengths, your unique art,
Unveil the beauty within your heart.
For in this journey, you'll truly see,
You're enough, just as you should be.

Release the shackles that bind you tight,
Embrace self-love, bathe in its light.
with every step, let doubts unwind,
And it your spirit, true worth you'll find.
No longer captive to judgements unfair,
Embrace your essence, beyond compare.

 

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The Wicked Weave: A Coven’s Cunning

23/7/8
In shadows' cloak, where secrets dwell,
Whispers weave their intricate spell.
A guiding hand with cunning art, 
To bend the will, to play its part.
Behold the art of Odessa Fade, 
A mastermind in masquerade,
She wields her power, sly and keen, 
With choices twain, a wicked scheme.

"If you desire control," she said,
"Two choices, stark, shall lie ahead.
One, a path that's filled with fear, 
The other, draped in allure, so clear."

The first, a specter, daunting, grim,
A choice that's fraught with terror's whim.
A haunting choice, where shadows loom,
A path that leads to certain doom.

The second choice, a sweet charade,
A tempting offer, cunningly made.
A silver platter, seemingly blessed,
The path of comfort, the very best.

For many souls, enticed and swayed,
By options deftly Odessa laid,
They choose the mask of lesser pain,
To quell their doubts, their thoughts restrain.

In haste, they rush, their minds confined,
Seeking solace, the easy find.
A feeble shield, their doubts to quell, 
Under Odessa's beguiling spell.

So heed this caution, gentle heart,
When faced with choices, set apart,
Beware the charms, the false embrace, 
And see beyond her treacherous face.

For in the realms where freedom gleams, 
We must unveil these wicked schemes.
To think, to ponder, to break the mold, 
And forge our paths, both brave and bold.















			

	
					

				Kizzie, Ersell								Leave a comment
							

	
		
	



			
				


	

		
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.

			

	
					

				Kizzie, Ersell								Leave a comment