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Literature Text
Nobody will speak of grief
Or abide in its presence for long
Nobody knows what to do
With a presence comfortably ingrained
Suddenly become absence forevermore.
Oh! The pillagers and deceivers come!
Selling bridges across the yawning abyss
As if the disrupted routine could be restored
After such irrevocable upheaval.
Even could the process be reversed
The departed would not be the returned.
Reduced to their component parts
Essence scattered and re-purposed
Could anything ever, having undergone
Such monumental transformation
Be exactly as before?
Of course not.
Only fools and liars dare otherwise claim
As they circle the bereaved, intent on gain
Their pretend-comfort another open grave.
Nobody wants to deal with grief
Gaze into that gaping hollow naught can fill
Listen to the screeching wails
Wade the mucous flood
Witness the paroxysms and convulsions
That cease today only to resume tomorrow
Until the time they unexpectedly relent
As the edges of the weeping gash scab over.
Nobody wants to wait that long
Thus the solicitous offers of false escape
And failing persuasion, the poisonous cruelty.
But grief is stronger than deceit:
Will not be denied for it is
Life's war-cry in Her continued journey.
Grief will not be silenced for it burns
With imperishable Flame.
Nobody says to wait.
Stay still
In flames before the Void
Grasping ashes close
Swathed in flood and wind
Until the dawn.
Nobody but the true, the wise, the brave
Whom the scoundrels cannot tolerate.
Nobody but the living
Who have been here before and know the way
The inward route that each
Alone must tread
Flame-bearers through the Emptiness
Deluge and storm, from ashes new soil
Pain birthing song from each wobbly step
Unto the present.
Nobody would face grief
Particularly not the charlatans
Greatest of all cowards.
Nobody would yield
In humility, bow in silence
Nobody but those who have learnt
It must be done, time and again.
So Life prevails
And the illusion at last shatters:
Twas not that our beloveds
Abandoned us
But that we had yet to embrace them
In their new becoming.
Or abide in its presence for long
Nobody knows what to do
With a presence comfortably ingrained
Suddenly become absence forevermore.
Oh! The pillagers and deceivers come!
Selling bridges across the yawning abyss
As if the disrupted routine could be restored
After such irrevocable upheaval.
Even could the process be reversed
The departed would not be the returned.
Reduced to their component parts
Essence scattered and re-purposed
Could anything ever, having undergone
Such monumental transformation
Be exactly as before?
Of course not.
Only fools and liars dare otherwise claim
As they circle the bereaved, intent on gain
Their pretend-comfort another open grave.
Nobody wants to deal with grief
Gaze into that gaping hollow naught can fill
Listen to the screeching wails
Wade the mucous flood
Witness the paroxysms and convulsions
That cease today only to resume tomorrow
Until the time they unexpectedly relent
As the edges of the weeping gash scab over.
Nobody wants to wait that long
Thus the solicitous offers of false escape
And failing persuasion, the poisonous cruelty.
But grief is stronger than deceit:
Will not be denied for it is
Life's war-cry in Her continued journey.
Grief will not be silenced for it burns
With imperishable Flame.
Nobody says to wait.
Stay still
In flames before the Void
Grasping ashes close
Swathed in flood and wind
Until the dawn.
Nobody but the true, the wise, the brave
Whom the scoundrels cannot tolerate.
Nobody but the living
Who have been here before and know the way
The inward route that each
Alone must tread
Flame-bearers through the Emptiness
Deluge and storm, from ashes new soil
Pain birthing song from each wobbly step
Unto the present.
Nobody would face grief
Particularly not the charlatans
Greatest of all cowards.
Nobody would yield
In humility, bow in silence
Nobody but those who have learnt
It must be done, time and again.
So Life prevails
And the illusion at last shatters:
Twas not that our beloveds
Abandoned us
But that we had yet to embrace them
In their new becoming.
Little Black Room
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Literature
2 Sentence Story
It was a dark and stormy night.
The Earth cradled itself in blankets of black clouds, awaiting its end.
Literature
Terrifying Thoughts
When I die, will I just see darkness
Like when I close my eyes at night
Will I pass on to an afterlife
Or is there a second life
I don't know what happens next
It makes me feel nervous I begin to think
What if I no longer open my eyes
Because I know my life
It has ups and downs
Will I go up or will I go down
There's so much fear
It brought a tear
Will I just see a light
Or would I see fires so bright
I am scared of death
But I have suicidal tendencies
That makes no sense
Each night I close my eyes
I try to keep them closed but I'm terrified
I don't wanna die
No, I want to stay alive
I need someone by my side
Cos I fear
Literature
Satan
May my soul be undamned by the words I piece here,
For as I lay them with ink upon paper, icy hands grip my throat,
Chills rack my spine, aches pound my skull; just for thinking such thoughts.
His form came to me like in a dream, nothing remained solid,
In fact, nothing remained at all upon his exit.
So I now tell this while my hands still serve my will.
His looks are not for mortal words to say, no syllable,
No word, no phrase could carry the weight across a human tongue
To utter his visage even upon paper.
No, the demon-lord's face and body and dress came to my eyes as
Forbidden to look upon directly. And as my eyes averted, his
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