Church of Lies
Hollow creeky dark chambers of this selfrightous tomb of the half-living, kneel. Kneel before this blood stained alter of the wicked, receive your cursed blessing at the hand of decadent shrouded preacher, this most sinister of them all, this faithless so-called monk. Let him place his cracking grey palm, stained with all the filthy permitted sins he allowed himself with no consult of the creator on your head.
The cold wind, drenched with all the atrocities of a dark age kingdom, creeps in with the subtlety of a blood drenched dire wolf amongst the lambs, envelops your skin, seeping through the fabric of your clothes with little discretion, with the same inappropriateness as the wicked, bent old man crushing your sense of purity with the twisted pressure of his claw of a hand upon your brow.
The rising chant of all those deluded pathetic sinners rises to fill the highest bends and the lowest crevances of this temple of lies. The only true blessing is the dimming light of hundreds of dying candles, their twinkling glow distracting you from the stench of deciet dried down into the wooden carvings upon their walls.
Salvation? I call it sin, sin upon sin, doctorines shifted and shaped by the old liars and carried on by the young misguided. How can you teach me of a thing when you don't understand the cause of the thing? Why must you drown me with your speech of that which you do not understand?
Sin upon sin I shall commit, light after light I will extinguish and death after death I shall recieve. What is a sinner to tell me of sin? If this light then blind me, take away this most discrepant, useless of senses, this is not the world I wish to see; And what is death to the dead?
Do you not witness, the truth, unfolding before you, in and out of sight? Is your heart not burdened by these mountains of contradictions? If your words can heal then why are you so sick?
A pagan to your paganism I am, a proud sinner I'll be. A world so dark, govern it you do, save it you don't. I disbelieve your misbelief, this I do so at my own discretion, with no discretion.
Again and again I'll sin, this most beautiful of sins. Sin and sin this most guilt free of acts. I gladly act so in thought, in heart, in spirit, in flesh, in soul. Here is salvation, here is salvation, salvation is here, salvation is here.
No dark shrine for me, no hollowing chants to praise curses upon my soul, no decrepant, depraved sooth sayers to govern that which is not theirs to govern, no more Hell adjacent Purgatory for me.
Light upon true light is what I seek, truth within truth I crave and gifts beyond gifts I shall recieve. Uplifted from the darkness, what more can one ask for? Oh how easy it is to depict the punishment of the wrongs but so difficult it is to imagine the rewards of the right. Indescribable blessing. Warmth. Truth. Goodness.
Receive me with open arms.
Embrace me...
You.
You there.
Stand.
Turn.
Shun these false idols.
Shake off their false ideals.
Run.
Run.
Run.
Run until you're out of breath then run some more.
And how could they contain the Beauty within their words? The Majesty within their walls?
Run.
Run.
Run.
Over there.
Over there.
Over there.
Peace.
Peace.
Peace.
By Ahmed Abdellatif Omer Hassan
- This is the best thing I ever wrote but few can tell the difference. This is my 3 dimensional contribution to our 2 dimensional struggle.
Wednesday, 11 October 2017
Nikki's Poem
Is she so beautiful that she destroys you? Unmakes everything that you are?
This is something you can't levitate above.
This is Nikki's poem
And what is a downhill battle when you're heading to a cliff?
And what is an uphill battle to a deserted peak?
And what is the numarity of the strong to the courage of the weak?
And where are the followers to head without the shepherd to seek?
And how could so much light and colour be so bleak?
Courage is lost in the sight of infinte abyss, light is limited, dark is not.
This is Nikki's poem
The better part of me is the part I left with you, and I'm missing the rest of me.
Spoken lies in dark rooms are better than all truths.
I miss the burning seepage of you into my bloodstream, I miss the loss of my breath as I breath you in, gently suffocating my pain away.
Smoke in my lungs is the only time I can breathe.
This is Nikki's poem
I sink slowly into an elevated state of being. Levitating heavily over an endless drop. Sleep walking past all my destinations.
The white stains on my black shirt are camoflouge in this jungle.
This is Nikki's poem
You're the only one that would burn for me, and so I burn for you.
This is something you can't levitate above.
This is Nikki's poem
And what is a downhill battle when you're heading to a cliff?
And what is an uphill battle to a deserted peak?
And what is the numarity of the strong to the courage of the weak?
And where are the followers to head without the shepherd to seek?
And how could so much light and colour be so bleak?
Courage is lost in the sight of infinte abyss, light is limited, dark is not.
This is Nikki's poem
The better part of me is the part I left with you, and I'm missing the rest of me.
Spoken lies in dark rooms are better than all truths.
I miss the burning seepage of you into my bloodstream, I miss the loss of my breath as I breath you in, gently suffocating my pain away.
Smoke in my lungs is the only time I can breathe.
This is Nikki's poem
I sink slowly into an elevated state of being. Levitating heavily over an endless drop. Sleep walking past all my destinations.
The white stains on my black shirt are camoflouge in this jungle.
This is Nikki's poem
You're the only one that would burn for me, and so I burn for you.
Tuesday, 10 October 2017
A Toast
Intro
Words we need to hear.. somtimes
When you're so scared of breaking you tell yourself "don't fall for it, not again, not this time, I know you always promise to never go down that road again then stumble back on it somehow only to talk on your face again, so this time no promises, none but this, that today you may not be happy, you maybe sad, but you're safe today you're offlimits to them, today you don't break" only know this, if nothing else know this... I've got you...
I know you feel that I sometimes don't understand and you know what? Sometimes you're right, but sometimes I do, and those sometimes are outgrowing those other ones. And though you know I'm here for you I think you don't understand sometimes genius, I'm here, like it or not, doesn't mean you have to talk when you don't want to, doesn't mean you can't have space, but I'll be all up in your space if you're doing more harm than good.
We all have bad days, sometimes bad weeks, bad years sometimes bad lives, but that don't get us down, I'll pick you up, you dust me off.
A toast
And here, here here, here to the simple complexities that compel the most irritable of itches, just a little out of reach but too close for comfort.
Speak and speak again of all the misdirected attention I have invested into the crevances of this infinte white canvas we call life.
Delude me with the promises of recovery, poisin me with all the free untainable little snipers of normality, define this, the most rare of understandable common serendipities, a little off the centre, you little balance, obsession with the unobsessable, doing a 100 stuck in third gear, on the wrong side of the road, the bottom side of every coin, the uncontrollable urge to control that which I will always fail to control, the struggle to remain afloat when you're flying, tormented only with the lack of perception, the inverted twisted view of self and none-self.
Again, lead me on, again and again lead me on, lie to me over and over again, lie to me and receive my complete belief only so that you may drop it, then lie to me again so that I may pick it up, dust it off and give it to with the kind of broken smile that cuts my upper lip everytime I show it.
Show me my salvation, show me your rope, dangle down your hope, let me grab it, don't worry I'll pull myself up I'm used to it. And it's ok if you let go now, it's ok, I know shattered glass has it's own special kind of twinkling beauty. I don't mind. I won't judge you, I'll thank you. I've never seen the top side of your flying ship and I'm terrified of hieghts, the dangle scares me, here and here and there I'll remain, don't worry I know it's better to be broken than breaking, that's a more attainable goal. And with all the grace within my tongue, with all the honey-diped half truths I dispense to all who care to know, with all my depth, I can aim up all the spoken truthful lying metaphors and similies...
"I'm never gonna be okay"
It's the simple melodies that scream the loudest, it's the short words that cut the deepest, it's the happy songs that are the saddest. It's the dim, dying light that's the most blinding.
Walk past me, look through me, enjoy my company then disregard my presence, the distance I seem to maintain is the only that keeps me safe, now walk in it, take away my security, it's easy.
And here, here here, here's to the fear of disappointment, here's to the near-life experiences that keep us tiptoeing back to a cool, dry place... hello old friend, goodbye new friends, let us crawl back to silent place from which we first came.
Forgive me for not pressing on it'll just be a minute, I need to rest my eyes, I need to settle this weary body for the rest of this unforseeable road, it'll be but a moment. Lay with me, let's break for an instance, wrap me with your cold, hard embrace, we'll live on in a minute, the flame may flicker but it hasn't burnt out and it never will. This ain't an easy road believe me, and this ain't a happy journey, not yet anyway, but it's our road old friend.. and we ain't come this far... so wake me before all my wounds heal, I wish to mark the path, and you'll never know just how beautiful your scars are to me, old friend.
Words we need to hear.. somtimes
When you're so scared of breaking you tell yourself "don't fall for it, not again, not this time, I know you always promise to never go down that road again then stumble back on it somehow only to talk on your face again, so this time no promises, none but this, that today you may not be happy, you maybe sad, but you're safe today you're offlimits to them, today you don't break" only know this, if nothing else know this... I've got you...
I know you feel that I sometimes don't understand and you know what? Sometimes you're right, but sometimes I do, and those sometimes are outgrowing those other ones. And though you know I'm here for you I think you don't understand sometimes genius, I'm here, like it or not, doesn't mean you have to talk when you don't want to, doesn't mean you can't have space, but I'll be all up in your space if you're doing more harm than good.
We all have bad days, sometimes bad weeks, bad years sometimes bad lives, but that don't get us down, I'll pick you up, you dust me off.
A toast
And here, here here, here to the simple complexities that compel the most irritable of itches, just a little out of reach but too close for comfort.
Speak and speak again of all the misdirected attention I have invested into the crevances of this infinte white canvas we call life.
Delude me with the promises of recovery, poisin me with all the free untainable little snipers of normality, define this, the most rare of understandable common serendipities, a little off the centre, you little balance, obsession with the unobsessable, doing a 100 stuck in third gear, on the wrong side of the road, the bottom side of every coin, the uncontrollable urge to control that which I will always fail to control, the struggle to remain afloat when you're flying, tormented only with the lack of perception, the inverted twisted view of self and none-self.
Again, lead me on, again and again lead me on, lie to me over and over again, lie to me and receive my complete belief only so that you may drop it, then lie to me again so that I may pick it up, dust it off and give it to with the kind of broken smile that cuts my upper lip everytime I show it.
Show me my salvation, show me your rope, dangle down your hope, let me grab it, don't worry I'll pull myself up I'm used to it. And it's ok if you let go now, it's ok, I know shattered glass has it's own special kind of twinkling beauty. I don't mind. I won't judge you, I'll thank you. I've never seen the top side of your flying ship and I'm terrified of hieghts, the dangle scares me, here and here and there I'll remain, don't worry I know it's better to be broken than breaking, that's a more attainable goal. And with all the grace within my tongue, with all the honey-diped half truths I dispense to all who care to know, with all my depth, I can aim up all the spoken truthful lying metaphors and similies...
"I'm never gonna be okay"
It's the simple melodies that scream the loudest, it's the short words that cut the deepest, it's the happy songs that are the saddest. It's the dim, dying light that's the most blinding.
Walk past me, look through me, enjoy my company then disregard my presence, the distance I seem to maintain is the only that keeps me safe, now walk in it, take away my security, it's easy.
And here, here here, here's to the fear of disappointment, here's to the near-life experiences that keep us tiptoeing back to a cool, dry place... hello old friend, goodbye new friends, let us crawl back to silent place from which we first came.
Forgive me for not pressing on it'll just be a minute, I need to rest my eyes, I need to settle this weary body for the rest of this unforseeable road, it'll be but a moment. Lay with me, let's break for an instance, wrap me with your cold, hard embrace, we'll live on in a minute, the flame may flicker but it hasn't burnt out and it never will. This ain't an easy road believe me, and this ain't a happy journey, not yet anyway, but it's our road old friend.. and we ain't come this far... so wake me before all my wounds heal, I wish to mark the path, and you'll never know just how beautiful your scars are to me, old friend.
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