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Hereafter No time for the wicked –Hereafter by ~ViolentGrey
The day of their judgement is nigh;
No rest for the blameless
Their every tear to dry.
No God to hear our prayers,
But a Devil takes joy in our woes;
No reprieve from above,
But a promise of suffering below.
Too soon the day shall come
When every beast and man
Shall surely leave this Earth
And meet in Hell again.
Shall I Call Thee Friend Now true hearts are proven falseShall I Call Thee Friend by ~ViolentGrey
And old affections feigned;
Now I am grown desolate,
O, shall I call thee Friend?
When all the world is barren,
And bright hopes withered lie,
When all the earth has wasted,
And the air is stale and dry,
When all the house is quiet
And the light is growing dim,
The wind goes howling through the halls,
And the walls are stark and grim,
When all the house is empty,
And the day is at its end,
When all the house is lone and still –
O, shall I call thee Friend?
O Fuhrer Mine Speak to me, o Führer mine,O Fuhrer Mine by ~ViolentGrey
Of Thy heroic struggle!
Where the world is troubled,
Is not the Kingdom of Glory Thine?
Speak to me, o Valiant One,
Of Thy sphere – where Thou art chiefest
And foremost, as befits
One so well-spoken!
Age must marvel at Youth,
For the world, in Revel, is saved;
And from the loins of Pleasure spring forth
The seeds of Light and Truth.
Where the world is stricken with poverty,
And where man’s hope grows dim –
There in Thee they trust,
O Champion of Charity!
050408 I am tired now.050408 by ~ViolentGrey
Do not be fooled:
My calm is outward;
I am not the peace you seek.
Something has inserted itself.
Look: I am seeping
Here, there
And another place also.
See how they weep.
Do not be mistaken:
I do not grieve –
I am only looking.
It is nothing really.
I do not concern myself over it.
It is nothing
I can remedy anyway.
It is faster now.
I was only saying –
I do not take excessive interest –
Only... it is faster now.
Sta.sh
As for me... I like them!
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$7
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"How did I know that someday—at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere—the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn’t descend again?"
The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
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$7
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"How did I know that someday—at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere—the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn’t descend again?"
The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath