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the WandererWander the plains of truth and lies
looking for something there to call mine
looking at myself in a shard of glass
I laugh at the fool I have become
"Dont try so hard, you are who you are" I say to myself
so many thoughts, you descend to chaos with them
slowly rending apart that precious thing called love
you give to the person closest to you
let memory go, let your anger lay
emotions rule your heart so let another in
show them they truly matter, their inner thoughts
and let the past lie in truth
Wings of a PhoenixWings of a Phoenix, lit with Flame
Guiding me to life again
Through these wings of wind and fire
Again am I made to live
Perhaps it is better had I died
For such a gift... greater is the price to give
To those burned... hurt in a sacrifice to my pride and ire
One and another, simply to feed a flame
No longer shall I watch you come to harm
For something greater than life have I found
So I shall rend my wings from me,
Tear them from my shoulders, pain long held away
brought forth into me, a testament to the trust I place
In those now holding my life
None shall my fire touch again, not a single other soul
Though darkness may take my hand
Such a risk I wish to take, in atonement to those I've harmed
And I hope that those loved ones I have burned
That their love can still be mine
On preparing to never let goWalking slowly down the hall, arms filled with the day's mail, we spoke of morbid things.
She wants to be reduced to ash and I want to know if I can keep her on my mantle.
She looks at me sideways with a curious face and forgets her footsteps.
It's a little bit morbid, she tells me, deciding it's time to continue shuffling along,
but I think the way I'm trying to picture her perfect urn is probably worse.
There's nothing that I can think of that suits her, though,
and I wonder if I even know her.
Do I scatter you somewhere? You can't visit scatter.
(I think good daughters plant guilt in the carpet pile to trip upon.)
But she doesn't trip, instead she ruminates on how appalling it'd be to divide her in fourths:
she laughs as she's divvying up her body parts for our mantles.
I tell her we'll set up a custody schedule, but only between my closest sister and me;
we're the ones that take care of her. But in reality, I'm not planning on sharing.
She tells me she wants to be in the n
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More