MUSE Muse: November 9, 2009 written by Marini Barika Facey Shallow men were casualties of my alluring eyes. Naive men were casualties of my beauty and smiles. Desperate men were casualties of my subtly and gentleness. Foolish men were casualties of my humor and wit. Lustful men were casualties of my charm and deceit. Respectable men were casualties of my notoriety, popularity. Honest men were casualties of my truth and wisdom. Loyal men were casualties of my love and submission. But you... You! ...saw right through me! Your cunning soul had a firm hold! You were charming! Your gentle heart took control! You were disarming! Your piercing eyes gazed-- deeply into my soul, and that... that... ...was alarming! Irony smiled and stoked this fire and embers of desire burned. I rose and fell at your hands like an orchestra that followed a conductor's commands. I rose and fell in your hands like a puppet on strings who was forced to endlessly dance. Irony laughed and poked this fire and embers that never tire burned. You seeped deeply into me like honey, and steeped in the hot springs of my heart... I was drawn to the jagged rocks at the edge of your soul. I was a casualty of your power, strength so subtle. For you I desperately thirsted, and foolishly dove in headfirst. I was crushed... ...and violently drowned! Your blue eyes cascaded against my heart, and my washed up remains, washed up on shore. All the men who knew me before, casualties of my war, gazed in wonder and awe! They remembered my glory... ...and now saw my weakness? They marveled at my vulnerable state! Yet... I did not see them! I could care less what they thought! I could not hear if they mocked me, because I was trapped in-- illusions painted by your blue skies. All I saw was you! I was caged in the mazes woven by your blue eyes! Even when my sky was painted gray, it seemed as if the sun was illuminated! I still feel where you held my face! I remember when your hands cupped my chin, and you told me to look at the stars... Look up! ...because they were also casualties strung to a Muse's heart! | WRAITH Wraith: November 9, 2009 written by Marini Barika Facey Oh! You rip through my soul like a jarring whim My heart deeply yearns for your melancholy eyes You pierce through my soul with your haunting blue gates My voice longs to make a home in your captivating fate You open your mouth and my voice drifts in like wind in a cave My mind is trapped in this enchanting maze called your heart You press your lips against my bursting, burning lungs and wildly inhale You claw through my mesmerized heart and swiftly steal its last beat Your melancholy soul opens the vast deep and draws in my last breath Do you oh wraith bloom death or is this the beginning of a lover's Spring? |
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Act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God! -Micah 6:8
QUOTE OF THE DAY "Give love and it will be given back to you. Maybe in a different form, or from a different source, but it will be given..."
-Jason Reeves https://twitter.com/jasonreeves People run, walk, push past
Crowded... People talk crassly Fast, no one wants to be last Cars zoom, vroom, wildly crash Construction booms Loudly blasts Streets were once paths not paved Paths were once fields not braved Fields were once trees not scaved Trees were once seeds... Streets speak of what we used to be What we came from What we can't see ...and what we would become inevitably! AWAKENING Newborns suddenly burst into the light, breath surges, and startled voices cry!
Life begins and rushes by at a rapid pace; crawling legs wobble, fall, and stand up straight. Illegible letters and unintelligible words evolve into skillful rhetoric of the mature and well-versed. Fleeting, meaningless pursuits are no longer the chosen paths. Life frightens and enlightens! Everything simple becomes complex. Steady legs that once stood up straight, wobble, and fall. Sight, hearing, and memories slowly begin to fade; decades pass and seasons change. Staggered, strained breath merges at a rapid pace; life ends and brushes across aged faces. Everything complex becomes simple. Newborns and the aged both violently gasp for awakening.
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“I am the most curious of all to see what will be the next thing that I will do.”
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