Be home before dawn, she said
but she forgets my insolence
plastered upon my skin
like moisture in monsoon
I glide, purposeful
waking in my wake
the aspirations of the none
with quiet spells of assumption
forging disillusion for the prideful
the gifts I bring are a curse you know
I pull the winners into the lands
of the sorrowed
culling the shameful with frost
and fears of tomorrow
I am that which you seek
and fail to find
I wield the might which you wish
to bring against the walls
of your enemies
As I dance over the winded nights
and into your dreams I send
my frights.
I am the lost and stolen
they seek revenge for all
the petty insults and minor injustices
you have wrought
She knows that I seek mischief
and at times she takes what I give away
for that is her way, to bring love
even to those who are not worthy
but I am a vengeful spirit
though I do not act with malice
it is my way
to bring low the false
and scrawl their names
on Judgement Day
image courtesy of Pinterest and Alexander Smutko
I wish I could wear your words around my neck. Word Bling. ❤
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Lol thank you!!
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You’re welcome! 💎
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ultimate comment of all-time ❤
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It’s a pretty great compliment 😊
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🙂
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😁❤
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❤
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I still feel this way! ❤
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🙏❤
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Just superb, D! ❤ Love:
"waking in my wake
the aspirations of the none"
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Thanks Em🙏
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That rolled around my brain’s word buds, like Jack Daniel’s Honey on the rocks…
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Thanks man I appreciate it!
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Welcome buddy
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“I am the lost and stolen” this is climbing under my skin and planting seeds. Amazing work OP
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Thanks so much Christine 🙏❤
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Reblogged this on A Global Divergent Literary Collective and commented:
Olde Punk
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Reblogged this on erichmichaels and commented:
There should be a religion that uses this poem as their Our Father! “Judgement,” by Oldepunk at ramjetpoetry.
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Thank you Eric 🙏
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My pleasure, op!
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