Judgemental lightno matter how others appearances appearJudgemental light by LumenArtist
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
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
Courage to know no boundaryAmateurish like skirmishes...Courage to know no boundary by LumenArtist
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
formerly a flamei.formerly a flame by LumenArtist
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.
yet experienced to its allure...
like a thread to its webbing
as isn't it true even a spider consumes its mate?
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.
suspended in its magicwas it a veil or a seamsuspended in its magic by LumenArtist
we consider what it took
to keep our dream
suspended in its magic
what was our psyches,
what crowned the dawn
as magical, as powerful,
as what enticed
prevalent like dances,
at the highest heights,
to the lowest lows
as between the throne
governing bodies stood
in one place or another
I utter misunderstood
a dream within a dream
was that our reality
to feel excited,
to feel great joy
to feel relief
to feel once more.
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