sharkoftheday

Fear is inevitable even in the calm; A hard gush of air constantly presses against my back. All panic is lost with the unconsciousness of time; The presence of solid ground is but a foreign thought. I see the pit fall away from me, yet i care not; I have given up on the desire to hit bottom, With the loss of all hope for reaching the unseen I find no reason for why i continue falling Ever deeper into the abyss. I knew not what would be there Upon stepping into the pit without bottom; I only knew that it brought all that is serene.

THERE IS SO MUCH MORE TO LIFE THAN WHAT IS VISIBLE UNDER THE LIGHT, THE EARTH IS FINITE BUT EXISTENCE HAS NO BOUNDARIES; TO KNOW THIS LIMITLESSNESS ONE MUST DWELL IN HIS THOUGHTS OF INVISIBLE REALITIES, BELIEVING THAT THE PALPABLE ARE NOT THE ONLY TRUTHS, THAT TOUCH IS MERELY LESS DECIEVING PROOF THAN SIGHT; AND THAT THIS REGION IS NOT CONFINED TO THE COLLECTIVE TERM OF SPIRITS.

Ah, I am up in serenity Sitting and looking over a world molded from clay, Such a magnificent fabrication that is so artfully molded, But this is no reality of mine, For the only reality is the spirits gleaming under the sun, These spirits; if I were to fall they would catch me, And enjoy the company of the foreigner. Across this clay-molded world there crawl ants, Ants that I know molded this reality that they live in, These ants develop the land and repair whatever damage          That may be done by the more mischievous spirits; So serene up here; the ants are busy down on their world, And I feel sorry that they cannot join me

The seed... The seed is a hope     It is a chance for something Something greater than our understanding     The glory of a miracle; But it is only a chance,     There is no guarantee in this miraculous action As the seed is susceptible     To the equilibrium. The plant... The plant is the hope realized     It is the chance revealed in its favor, It is young and eager to grow     To find its spot in the world, And once there     It reaches for places anew Anywhere that it can grow     Is claimed for developing The flower... The flower is the apotheotic form of beauty,     The result of time and efforts summation,

The presence of angels surrounds, Fallen but never deceived, Contorting thoughts and knowledge found, With the wave of the hand they show the inconceived, By the mind in its endless travels, By the world that has not achieved, When they speak, all knowledge becomes mere rabble, Reason becomes a parasite and leaves. Their ensorcelling voices ring through The night, defeating the will; the soul yields To the angels sophisms, becoming truth, Abysmal eyes, growing ever deeper still; Innocent faces evoking the vulnerable Nature inside all;   The semblance of a field Disrupts all thought, but how is incomprehensible, To the lustrous

Hopelessness is the hope of the Damned Lamentations the cries of the Guilty Justice is our cry And justice is what we receive; For all who have vied, For all who have deceived. Martyrdom is but futility When its cause is without purpose, There is all the more reason for humility If the traits are nothing but curses. Life and death are in equilibrium As crimes of the past will warp the future, But there is also nothing in the infinite beyond That we merely fail to acknowledge in our present state. Hopelessness is the hope of the damned, Lamentations the pleas of the guilty, None can know what they demand When they think the wo

Shadows of the tangible lying unfurled In the dark; How serene! 'tis in this world, Listening to the silence, watching the black night; How pure of color from which many affright. Fools! They shall never comprehend That light could not exist without dark, so they never make amends; None will ever actually see Until they learn to fathom this darkness that is me; Sitting in the shadows at my own will Of the few am I whom understand the night and its chill. An entrancing light appears, A light that guides those without fear, But its mystical rays deceive The dual nature of appearance and belief; Her light only shines when she is fa

Will you help me if I have fallen, For today I have put my life to an end, The souls I thought I would see are never there, Not in this plane of darkness, Whatever help I could have had when I was still alive is now denied, The gatekeeper has never cared, He walks by returning lamentations with scorn, The worst of scorn that is achieved by showing complete ignorance               Towards us fallen souls, Anyone who may notice me shows disheartening pity and walks away               In fear of becoming, But you, I see you standing there everyday Glancing at me with an emotionless expression, From my dreams or memories I recall y

Laying before me, transparent it lies, An object reflecting the depths of mine eyes, Circular and always moving, Its motion is but soothing, As it rolls, Enchanting my eyes, All cares forgotten by the mind, I grasp it, steadying its movement, The object presses smoothly; Looking upon the object, 'tis a sphere! Though solid glass, translucent and clear; And although it was never ascertained In my mind I knew its shape was not feigned. With awe I viewed its simple perfection, Eyes glistening to see my own reflection, I cried at what I saw With conflicting emotions I let my tears fall, Anger, joy, contempt, grief, envy, longing!

Passion overwhelms me As I am without another for my affection, And, as if in response, My mind draws upon its own false love for death As if to parody or scorn the bonds of others, To feign an end of solitude While isolating me ever further. I feel the fear seep throughout my soul, As the lust grows ever stronger And spite prevails, As the perverse love and attraction Encompasses my every desire Tortures my every thought; I walk in fear and anxiety And pray for an end To life and its troubles, To every burden that I bear; I know nothing of hope And see nothing, But what I envy most. Oh cruel are the sentiments of others!

the sounds were quiet at first,  with long silences in-between.  she kept her head down on her sewing and thought some kids in the alley across the street were goofing off. the sounds went on for three, four, five minutes, growing a little louder each time.  it almost sounded like someone rapping on the walls. she concentrated on her sewing. suddenly a girl appeared in her doorway.  "let's go see the fireworks!" she cried, with a grin.  they hurried out the door into the comfort of the violet evening sky. she followed the other girl down the sidewalks of 15th avenue, full of orange hazard signs and dark holes.  the clear, cool summer air

Ripping apart the broken wounds, Too impatient to let them bleed. The decedance of the common man, Not fake enough for you to believe. [Chorus:] Scars crying their final goodbye, As they climb through the surface, awaiting to die. Decieving their reason on the waking night, Bleed through their essence for the final time. Sworn to hate myself all the time, By exile to the place of horrid silence. Secrecy becoming my unwanted ally. Don't know why I even tried this. Scars crying their final goodbye, As they climb through the surface, awaiting to die. Decieving their reason on the waking night, Bleed through their essence for the

I'm hopeless, wandering through corridors I've already wandered, and thinking of changes I've already pondered, Hoping that maybe, this time, the outcome would be different. That I would not find myself, trapped at a dead end, that you'd give your heart to me, and my own would mend. But I've nothing left to give, my insides left bare, if it is not me you need, Please, my heart do spare. Don't tell me things you don't mean, things you do not feel, despite what you may have thought, my heart is not steal No longer will I wander, through corridors I know, love me completely, or completely let me go.  

She said she was tired of this whole image war, "The magazines and the beauty queens, All slaves to the masses" He tried not to laugh As she sang, Another random song As she trailed off Falling asleep on the phone She said she was tired of feeling like this, "The anxiety and the complexity," She just needed to cry, Then she would be fine Then she would be okay He tried not to interrupt As she sang, Another random song As she ranted again Long into the school-night She said she was tired of wasting her time with words, "the "grammatically correct" and the useless structure" she just needed to sing Another Random So