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Old 04-11-2024, 11:11 PM   #499
Sinacog
Sini
 
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Join Date: Dec 2018
Posts: 2,195
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Default Sinacog vs. Sini

Ever since I was cocooned in the womb, I was consumed with music
The beautiful tunes that filled my ears were strummed to loom amusement
They move my mood to a vast planet where the crystal moon glistens
As stars form into symphonic notes, I take a soothed listen
I feel relaxed, touching the ever-green grass that sparkles subtly
The leaves dance with the wind, as I glance beneath the lovely trees
I begin running free - frolic in motion, near the sea of dawn and devotion
White sand breaks crashing waves - creating an everlasting bond with the ocean
I'm causing commotion - as blue whales awake from their slumber to swim
Dolphins rise, and Seals Dive - as salty wind runs under my skin
I come to a cliff - overlooking the mighty waters with inspiration
Raising my fists - I queue the Ocean's Orchestration of Innovation
Taking control of strings, keys and chords - I summon all animals of the sea
Now every single species that swims embarks to come in peace
Mammal and Fish swim side by side - with not one painful scrimmage
They're all elated to be alive - and the food chain diminished
For they live off the notes of instruments - and how they influence
As the sun rises behind the sea, we realize - this is the power of music

I am an Angel, precious from above, with a golden halo
I Love The God Of Israel, as he's my soul in solstice, keeping my heart controlled and able
I am bold and sacred, ancient in heaven's time, turning water to blood
I am the potter with gloves, holding nothing back when I'm offering love
I fly across with a dove, through iridescent skies, crucifix in my hand
Making people repent for their sins, no-one will transfix my demand
I exist for the chance, to help the earth as it rotates on God's axis
My work goes beyond passion, for I was there when The Lord dawned dragons
My wings expand with the color of white, no-one will stumble my might
For it is the sound of another's delight, that has God cometh with light
I am the sun in the night, casting away fire and brimstone
I am as pious as the known, until the trail of this globe
God has plans for all in hand, I will assure that through all the land
For I walk through the Valley of Death, as a shadowed man, for the beauty of the act of man
I create miracles, God's people have seen me give sight to the blind
I am righteous with time, serving God's light in divine
Satan serves hostility toward's The Lord Our Creator, as he goes into battle with a horde of his nature
I grab the sword that I savored, and as I'm flying slay a demon, with the force of a savior
This is Armageddon, the war is casted, alarming heaven
I never rest as God's heart and weapon, to verse Satan, and disarm his henchman
The seventh seal is opened, The four horsemen assist in The Apocalypse
Angels yell 'God will forever be omniscient', not a demon is missed through my Oculus
Angels soar through the skies, biblical beasts are unleashed to make a roar and a cry
Good vs. Evil, is a course that's arrived, for this is when opposite forces collide
God's light beckons throughout the earth, God's might then shakes the ground and dirt
People of the world repent on the grounds of church, for with God, they finally have found their worth
Satan has sought to retreat, rebuke's are said by me on his defeat
Heaven and earth are followed by glee, for they have conquered with peace
I am an Angel, serving for God on the earth, well prompted
Yet with all the vast war displayed, I might just turn to darkness.....

the harder it's exposed, the harder to make true,
i'd rather just take two
moving through the oblongata to the navel:
that's a fucked up angle, like taking cuts from anvils,
*clink, clank* jump back,
remember the loving jangle of my mother’s bangles,
stuck in sandals;
never learned how to do up laces. grew up basic,
chewed up Asics, Pops, props: dude wasn’t faceless,
maybe just a fool, and ancient,
learnt the hues of a bruise in places
(still sometimes choose to taste it),
me i knew few faces, just knew the way which
was to pay my dues to be due a payslip,
accrued the patience, now move with sapience.
relaying wisdom and this verse ain't even written,
deconstruct the clock: you've a circadian rhythm,
disengage from the prison & find your way out the system.
take your time,
Time is bitten: consistent with these words and their mission,
you ain't the First, you a pilgrim,
fuck your purse and position!
understand it is written... you're; the words; all its fiction.
-- all the friction from the grind's quite worthless,
just to face-fuck anything that's divine: like earth is.
(mis)understand how blundered man is by times working,
timed work-slips, it's underhand... my spine diverges.
rhyme surgeon, a blind virgin took time learning
the eyes purpose obscures that which your mind searches.
whatever. doubt i'll ever know,
spit heat whatever the weather yo,
never let a beretta go,
yet better with clever flows
that'll end a pretender, no...
instead rock a headdress where holy feathers fold,
i wanna be about peace, or love. dead nouns
and Red Cloud(s) up where... only heaven knows.

Bereft, better days where I mention escape,
intention is great:
fail to follow through and momentum's erased.
Kinetic, contained - my method is flames
burning protests, white picketing fences again.
Ain't no revolution if the system you rend
draws a line to tell you where it's meant to begin,
I left you a pin, the grenade's in our locket, if
I'm late for dinner we can feign it's apocalypse.
Say little to lovers unless straight upon their lips,
stoic, a poet, but know the nature of my problem is
rooted in time I was a latent and harmless kid;
impatient but positive. Before ancient armour slid
across the limbs to betray prerogative,
blind to what the face of my father hid
- a mage with his parlour tricks made me apologist.
I may be a part of it if I stayed in the darker pits
of my mind. But strain through the loss and give
the remains of our carcasses to any who'd love you
till scent of your buds bloom and strength isn't subdued.
Pennies that punch through
the membrane's touch prove the pen isn't untrue.
Untrue?
Truth is honestly a cute anomaly used so sparingly,
youth has bothered me, since it left these bones,
cold speaks to leave its simple presence known
as my prints impress the snow. Hair is thinner.
Good thing I'm fond of the air in winter.
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