There is thunder in your eyes,
lighting strikes each time you smile.
Furious angel wrath is fearsome ,
kissing souls with reaper's fire.
Oh love divine, I pray you now,
take mercy on my soul.
Destroy me not. Instead extend your stormy hand
and make me once more whole.
Caress of the Careless by MozartsNemesis, literature
Literature
Caress of the Careless
I have walked the loneliest roads,
seen the ditches littered with the bodies of the broken.
I have trod upon the blistering sands,
trampled underfoot the dry bleached bones of wayward travelers.
I have meandered down back alleys in flourishing cities,
recognized hopelessness in the eyes of the vagrant homeless.
I have felt the claws of hunger dig deep into my belly,
tasted the taint of poisoned water on my tongue.
I have witnessed at mass graves the unplumbed depths of depravity,
watched children torn from innocence to feed the desires of evil men.
I have learned the creed of the wicked, the murderous, the malcontent,
Lo, I have inscribed it
A far and distant place by MozartsNemesis, literature
Literature
A far and distant place
If you really want to know who I am
you must first need search yourself.
Delve deep within, past canopy bravado
and vine tangled clichés until
you reach your forest’s floor.
Look around; take stock of your essentials and
when you believe you have a caterpillar’s determination
and a snail’s belief that the destination
is worth the daunting journey, then,
and only then, may you approach this wall that encircles me.
It is impenetrable.
No jackhammer barrage, nor tunneling trickery
will succeed, no; If you would gain entrance to my guarded castle
then you shall have to climb.
I have not, will not, cannot make it easy for you.
This is the saddest truth:
Your eyes have closed upon the hope we share,
your lips have grown cold because love has vacated your mouth and
in the loneliest confines of the night, you are scared, scarred, yet still sacred.
You preach love, you speak of peace, you call forth joy to man. Yet
you have forgotten the face of your father, to the degree
that love is a fairytale, peace a myth, and joy a thing forgotten
to the annals of your pain.
You have given up the dreams of your youth, even
while you are young and the images that flow across
the river of your soul are tinted, tainted, with the blood
of a hypocrite and the remembrance of who yo
I will love you still. by MozartsNemesis, literature
Literature
I will love you still.
Tomorrow,
provided that when morning rolls around
the dulcet sky is not hewn and falling
like calamity around my neck,
and the ground is not rent with grief
or torn asunder with greed,
and the ocean has not swallowed me up
and left me hidden within her tides,
tomorrow I will love you still.
When the sudden sun sneaks
like a thief across the horizon
and steals your face from my fitful slumber,
I will stretch and remember Summer days
and the sweet aroma of your smile.
If deep within the mountain-dark night
my demons have encamped around me
and drawn pictures of tragedy in my mind's eye,
I will think of the softness of your hands,
the trusti
I saw you. I saw you plainly and you shook. Who knew I had such power in a look? I, the rooted one stood still, while you trembled like a leaf blown by a force unseen - truth? guilt? fear of being caught? Would your world crumble should I shine a light on your dry and withered self? I knew what you had done, and despite all the history you tried to rewrite, deep down you knew too, and because of it, you trembled. Not the mighty oak you would have them believe, but just a trembling dead leaf, clinging to a branch. I see you plainly. Do they?
the consequences of walking in circles by MozartsNemesis, literature
Literature
the consequences of walking in circles
The lady wore black and her eyes shone gold,
veiled face and veiled intentions, a smile
in her right hand, a dagger in her left.
Slicing with either in confident stride
like the sea-breeze slices across the morning air
and the ocean of her heart bled,
beckoning with wave after wave of depths untold.
When first I gazed upon lascivious lips, I pined
for the days of old, I dreamed of songbirds.
I spoke in languages forgotten. (or maybe never learned.)
I learned quickly the dark plays tricks on the mind.
She spoke, her voice was a shadow on the night's breeze
carried away on a landslide of eluvium. Her teeth were sharp,
and strangely
I stood out in the cold and
watched the Milky Way cry
like a new mother cries
when her first child is slow to take a breath
and begin life.
And I wondered:
Are these our last breaths
or our first?
I thought about how beautiful
the Earth was around me,
even in the darkness,
and if she was merciful.
Would she see the good in my heart
and spare me, or would she
clamp down on me like a mosquito
who had been caught
sucking the blood from her thigh...
As I returned to the warmth of my home,
I considered the cool air caught in my chest.
I hoped if she wasn't merciful,
I had earned mercy enough to
exhale one last time and
remember the sensation
And I Will Love You. by MozartsNemesis, literature
Literature
And I Will Love You.
Dull my rage with smiles bright
and hide me from my pain.
Watch my step, the precipice
gets slippery when it rains.
Look into my magic eight ball eyes
and smile if you can predict the real me.
Find in me the caves that fill my heart,
where I would hide, and fill them with graveyard dirt.
Remove my discount sale price tag
and put me on display.
Quicken my breath with single glance,
remind me how the grown ups play.
Smile wide against the gaping blackness
of my blatant, self-inflicted insecurity.
Whisper how beautiful I am, again and again,
Even though I will never believe you.
Remind me of the sweeter times
when my lips were
Moments Dressed in Snowflakes by UnderTheWildMoon, literature
Literature
Moments Dressed in Snowflakes
My pup by my side,
the neighbours cat watching quietly,
He gently whines to remind me
the snow is cold on his paws,
and all the while the smell
of freshly baked shortbread
tickles my nose.
Snowflakes flutter like
migrating butterflies and
dust my eyelashes with
confectioner's sugar.
Each strand of hair
that usually flows freely about my face
wriggles in the wind
like a poor fly
ensnared in a spider's web.
My breath cascades over my lips
in a fanciful dance,
etching my dreams into
the crisp morning air
as my lungs revel in the vacation
from humid breaths.
The tenderly lit Christmas Fir
paints pictures in the frosty window,
while boots not