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no matter how others appearances appear  
just don't wear those judgemental looks,
strength did not appear wrapped in cowardice
the cowards fear, was their power took  

nor could you hide from a judgemental light-
that even no escape artist could escape from
whether we are to be judged wrong or right
...our true nature is what's truly inescapable

to see through the see-through to see clearer
perhaps you hid among those sprawled out letters 
as-the-pointless-spaces-between-each-word,
to cower from what you were wasn't any better 

as even if you managed to  leave ones memory 
the every-time you would take another breath,
the lonely time bleeds  painful with every weave,
every stroke, every cradle  that you dare to take 

in the end we cannot even escape what we are  
to the extent of what peers behind a close-mind,
as the more you'd know the more you'd fear
truth was inescapable even to find yourself blind    

not really seeing what those mirrors mirrored
just sympathy, the empathy of fears that cower
those justifying judgements; we judge all things
but what was the true meaning of a persons power 
Judgemental light
Symbolic to those who prejudge without knowing anything 
nobody can escape their own nature, its predetermined. 
We go through life judging even the things we have no power over:
in the end we cant escape the impoverish light. What grows in our hearts
what entwines each sentence, into our making.
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Amateurish like skirmishes...

To strike the canvas not for its perfectness;
but not that it wasn't perfect
a master craftsmen couldn't make from steel  
the hardship he had as mettle,
he had more than those who hadn't heart
lily-livered cowards who yield  
 while the coward died his thousandth death
he had fought to die but once,  
not that he had needed the shiniest armour
because he stood as thorough  
pointing his woes to the sky like a song
anointing  once muted sorrows.  

As he held high the highest shield; 
the array of gold they saw was his own,  
on the nigh of a battlefield. 
"Was he a pioneer, a gun for hire, a pistoleers?" 
No, he never tasted rum, brandished a gun
or even tasted  fear.~ 

Strength was the courage to know no boundary,
and also the will to be as bound.
Beneath the very moonlight was cadaverous,
bearing the frail bones of town.  
"Paramount was his upbringing" His childhood rung
happy, for the tough lessons had  
it made him hope for a joy very few had needed
unlike you wanting frivolous clad
possessions were meaningless to those who had lived
whose held treasure was but life
annulment of what was those fears, for memories  
they were as sure as his knife... 
Courage to know no boundary
 A man with the courage to do, he was more than an amateur fighting for glory, the reason he fought was for adventure; adventure was his first love. An amateurish warrior with the sense and the heart of a master. In a way it shows us not to judge too soon a character of a man, as we all possess potential, than what we put on ourselves.
 
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i.
What entices of the bee. Was the alluring scent, 
that was the allure of the flower. Was it the idea of honeysuckle 
that doused to soft white lips
and shimmered with sticky sweet nectar.   
ii.
yet experienced to its allure... 
    spread_
        spreading  
like a thread to its webbing 
as isn't it true even a spider consumes its mate? 
iii.
manipulation of love, stimulation as the drug,
as many fantasise on bated breath.
Beating the stanza. Burning in incandescence, like a  cigarette;
watching lovers burning in and out_
throughout, like a flame.

closest when feeding off the dying spark, 
 ...until we know each others  name.  
formerly a flame
Levels of intimacy. Articulated by metaphors. I was inspired by a bee collecting honey with a flower, spreading its pollen...then that sparked the idea of  a flame (or a cigarette, that symbol of burning throughout of falling in love) between two, intimately or just the curiosity of it. As sort of a love ritual. 
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was it a veil or a seam 
we consider what it took  
to keep our dream
suspended in its  magic    

summoning        
what was our psyches,
performing
-in excitement  

what crowned the dawn  
as magical, as powerful,
as what enticed
prevalent like dances,  

dithering,
at the highest heights,
staring
to the lowest lows

as between the throne
governing bodies stood  
in one place or another  
I utter misunderstood  

mystique
a dream within a dream  
euphoria?
was that our reality

to feel excited,
to feel great joy    
to feel relief 
to feel once more.

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There stood a porcelain bust of a woman  
but the truth of the story was  so sad, 
as she wanted dead
of all she had; as the all she had was dead.     

As sacredness beneath the desecrated
as she suffered in the silence,
not silent
because there was nobody there,  
just silent
as there was nobody there who cared to listen  

they didn't believe the rape she had been through
as she didn't even have the words 
(not the words to say)  
As it was too horrific...  
like a stab to the dark, a jab to the heart
to something so prolific

her account was like the bloody moor
she kept her body
prisoned, like the woman
in the prism wall  
and only she knew the reality;
now that murder was religious
and rape was not a crime. 

she redecorated walls
and haunted many halls, as a reaper.
They say you can still hear her cries.

She prayed and prayed for the day that never came,
just the scent of deadly nightshade,
filling the breath of a dying sun.          

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Brian
Artist | Student | Literature
United Kingdom
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:iconshining-gloom:
shining-gloom Featured By Owner 5 days ago  New Deviant Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the watch and the favourite! much appreciated! Heart 
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:iconhockeymask:
hockeymask Featured By Owner 5 days ago
thanks for the watch !:) (Smile) 
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:icontats2:
tats2 Featured By Owner Aug 22, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for faving by tats2
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:iconfreeport:
Freeport Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2015  Professional General Artist
Thanks for the fav of Cathedral Ceiling by Freeport !
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:icontixielix:
TixieLix Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fave on my Street Fighter work!
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:iconcoraajna:
coraajna Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2015  Student Writer
Thank you for the cake! HugLove 
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:iconlumenartist:
LumenArtist Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2015  Student Writer
Your work it sparks so many emotions in me! HeartMeow :3 You write eloquently and every line draws you deeper, with the beautiful imagery and metaphors. More but I can't word half of what I want to say about your works. 

& don't thank me you deserved the faves. :happybounce: 
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:iconcookiedotnet:
COOKIEdotNET Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2015
thanks for the fav!:happybounce: 
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:iconcharlyhantschel:
CharlyHantschel Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
thank you so much for the fav! ♥ 
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