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The God of All and Nothing...The God of All and Nothing...
For I yeild to a God of Nothing, more than one of something grand;
For more things have come from nothing and return, I do understand.
What with Big Bangs bold as bullets, shooting out from none at all;
I would give my last breathe, breathing from which angels stood to fall.
For there is a place called nothing, and a place called shadow too,
And as the fallen know they stand, in such a place that knew but few.
And as God must be, such light that causes shadows, here, to grow;
I am but to Him nothing so to this nothing, I must seem first to go.
Because this world does stand in shadows of His light and others shown,
Light that teaches truth, the wisdom, and knowledge of things now known.
A soul does crave the light; wants to know the truth and peace because.
For in darkness we become the dark and let our souls embrace more flaws.
Darkness is of nothing; can decrease your joy and touch; darkly dieing,
In a spiral, of a life devoid of such; that is light and t
UntitledGod is light, and the owner of his light. There are different kinds of light and God's light is alive. Early Israel lived with his light in the temple and tabernacle, they also received manna. God's light is not the light of a fire burning, nor the shining of a star. His light is everywhere and he can let you see it or not. In him is no darkness, and through light we have truth, because we can see and know. With truth we have wisdom and knowledge. Through these things we have love, and God is love, so a living light that gives truth, wisdom and knowledge, which is love, and alive is everywhere as light is a wave and waiting for you to acknowledge and learn to accept as your life depends on it whether you believe it or not.
This is true to me and that's enough to change my life as it has and does. This is faith which is powerful and optimistic, and effects me in a manner that can make life more liveable and be a relief to a broken heart.
A form of light that most of us have never seen.
The Blue Fired DragonThe Blue Fired Dragon
Speaking with words of an initiative unto the older elements,
A deliverance in development; for to utilise more effectively.
That which those far more ancient than we have chosen so well.
And the highest of the many flickers, fuels this blue fired life.
Something older than the stars burns within our lighted hearts,
And this search for the first words, can lead us on to heaven.
Search for that Voice that echoes in the start of something good.
To see the split tongues spiral like the strands of life within.
Sleeping TogetherSleeping Together
A Proclamation Given
There's some that wanna go to heaven,
Some just see their place within the stars.
And many just want to end the struggle,
Of feeling like this life; is behind bars.
But lots still here, just want better rest,
Some time to deal with, or digest.
Process the pain, hurt, fear, a loss so deep.
But so many more want just good sleep.
The bible says that, "The dead sleep in Christ, until the resurrection." That being Christ, "TheWord of Life", so the DNA Code... Belief in ghosts and spirits of your dead relatives or friends is against the word of God, Takeheart in the fact that the dead sleep, and have peace and rest..
The Gospel of Peter Verse 41, Proclamation to the Fallen Asleep, read, selah...
 But in the night in which the Lord's day dawned, when the soldiers weresafeguarding it two by two in every watch, there was a loud voice in heaven;
 and they saw that the heavens were opened and that two males wh
Of Holy Men and Hoaxes..Saying Holy is; Spread thin as Jam,
Still many say, "I know I Am."
Yet no Feed, Comfort or even Counsel,
Continues here that a view doth trounce all.
Laying guidelines, but no paths to peace;
Of heaven here, given just the lease.
Call Paul or Peter; Tom, Dick or Harry.
Of the Holy here, seeing naught but tarry.
As prophets say they rebel and vex,
And on each other we often hex.
Think the physical can hold up the soul.
To understand, is, an Under-Standing, goal.
For if Holy, Solemn, Contrite and True,
Has now settled in some part of you.
So we so under; look up, see whats above.
Truth, time and tempting, tell only of love.
To given gifts to those you only love and need,
Then how much more Our God, Our Father indeed.
For the word does speak of the spiritual gifts;
In life and deed may we have and give that which lifts.
For John the Baptist; Water, was his way
This water cleansed and thus held sway.
Yet after Christ, the spirit was then seen,
Now the spiritual, with the spiritual the mean
Lost within the fun of a fantasy
my wings still just the scaffolds
scratches at the base of feathers
forming quills yet to be furnished
I await a plumage with the power
uplift of strength coated in softness
for the smallest of the birds, shines
the knowing of the envy in our eyes...
I will fly closer to the sun and melt
wax that holds my fantasies together
falls as puddles at my plucked feet
and gathering the feathers of others
I shall find my own...
The Nefarious Dominion...The Nefarious Dominion...
Cerebral function flies on wings
the powers of the air; exploited
mines of the spiritual dead of open fields
our beating hearts feeding only flesh
are playthings of a nefarious dominion
unsaved and exposed, without firewalls
the hacking of the human mind continues
our thoughts and functions overidden
justify "They know not what they do"
as backdoors blow apart the pretense
we scold the children of disobedience
punishment and discipline now non-stick
the feeding of resentment as the tantrum tells
ten "I hate you's!" later, and a face full of tears
leave scars, lingering in pathways of a mind
save your soul then save your sanity
for the quickening does quell the chaos
smack the spirit and stem the corporal
for so many souls await only acceptance
as the easy life seems to evade our instinct...
Orchid of the UndergroundOrchid of the Underground
Orchid of the underground, that hides a blood red heart
surrounded by a star of white, no more witness to impart
the beauty that grows not of sun or starry night sky light
creation chose to place this flower, out of all our sight
tis only two within the world, one for the east and west
no roots or leaves bring forth a flower, nature at it's best
O hidden bloom that sheds a beauty not for bird or beast
underground a garden for the worms or this world's least.
Quilling me softly...Quilling me softly...
Our words are like our fingers
that we cover up in gloves
a delve reveals the wrist lines
for the letters and the loves
palms are whispering the tales
that have lead into a touch
of the fingers loss of fabric
in just seconds; saying much
words pouring forth as we dip our digits
books of pillows sent to tempt the heart
sensual overload is released in the fidgets
left to seek fire of the kind only heaven can start.
Oil and WaterOil: slick, flammable, flavorful, congealing.
The touch of the sea, like touch of a pool
The creatures do not frighten me –
Their abode does that well enough on its own.
A blessing on your house in a cross drawn
Thumb dipped in olive oil and touched on thee.
Anointed to serve and to go as He calls.
Oil: sanctified, anointing, blessing, protecting.
Anointed son, yet unable to follow
You had to choose to go across the sea –
The storming, raging sea with waves that swallow
You had to choose water for me.
The touch of the mast like anchor strong
I would not let go, but I would go –
The distinction is small, but enough for thee.
A blessing on your house in a cross drawn
A thumb dipped in olive oil and lo!
Anointed to serve and to go as He calls.
Oil: precious, common, multipurpose.
The mast broke off in my hand as the waves
Rose to ensnare the cast and crew whole
And out on the crest stood He who saves
While we on board stumbled like
Stand by the Old Gods
In days of old, against staggering odds, we stood for the Old Gods.
Stretched and burned, we never erred, for the alternative never occurred.
Mjolnir we wore, in peace and war; we defiantly stood with the sons of Borr.
The new age of blight came almost overnight; the Cross overtook everything in sight.
Centuries past, and we have returned at last; the overlord and his slaves' damages were vast.
Gone are many of our glorious monuments; However, there still remain Nordic governments.
Days still bear our creators' names, and countless stories spawned from Loki's tricky games.
After so long, I can finally proclaim in rhyme: We stand by the Old Gods, after all this time!
Je hais cette race d'impies impitoyables!Je hais cette race d’impies impitoyables!
Tic, tac, tic, tac,… le temps semble comme arrêté…
Puis glisse en de longues lenteurs amounêtées :
On ne sait trop bien s’il recule ou s’il avance.
Le son s’y est tu, enfoui sous cette avalanche.
En déchirure du temps et mortel accroc,
L’onde de choc ouvre sa gueule, montre crocs.
Des gouttes de sang s’échappent en chapelets
D’une prière inutile à un Dieu distrait.
Une goutte se projette au loin et s’étire
En filament vermeil qu’un mur là-bas attire.
Sur sa route, un éclat de soleil la surprend
La faisant briller tel un rubis transparent.
La goutte glisse, glisse et se frotte aux secondes
En un ralenti usant les nanosecondes.
La goutte s’écrase en un point sur le mur nu :
Un point rouge colorant le front d’un élu
En un millésime de seconde immobile.
Le cercle redevient ce manège labile,
sharadigm piftyes it grows colder, but it's not yet cold.
not just the season, but the climate shifts
through cycles, decades and ages untold.
most of time's hands move at scales we can't see,
but great and small speak through corollary;
my cycles, decades and stages unfold.
i see my impairments, i see my gifts;
yes i grow older, but i'm not yet old.
the world's a mess, though our fortune's not sold;
we may still outlive the death of our sun.
our final telling needn't be tragic;
the highest science seems like it's magic.
our race is not over, it's just begun;
yes it grows colder, but i'm not yet old.
Of No SignificanceI am of no significance
in the world of men
as I strive to walk in light
I am a wanderer
who claims no home
except for the embrace
of the blissful One.
I am a child
of the Great Spirit
one who strives to be not
only of this world.
Do not look to me
for mortal relations
I only acknowledge Spirit
as the lasting love of life.
In search for the Wooden Halldress yourself like a witch of the oldtimes,
wake up under the cypress of Lore,
and the one who is not will command you
go to sleep and become someone new.
take the map to go up to the cavern,
with a boat cross the sea, chase the sun
when aloud no one’s ever a liar,
in the halls of the King of the Huns
as the question as told by the old man,
become someone new once again
in the halls of the king of the Huns, you
spin the world on a web, on a song.
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More