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Noble ConfusionConflict of heart and mind,
The classic tale of two entities fighting for dominance.
Each screams his own truth,
Driving points and contradicting each other.
What seems to be real anymore?
What can be considered truth?
What are lies?
Blindly, I am guided by a three-tailed vixen,
Unbeknownst to me if I am merely her plaything,
Or if I may be worth more than that.
I once held the ideals of a prince,
Noble and true to the pledged lady.
Since then, I have fallen from grace,
Left to scrape about the remnants of myself.
The armor I once wore,
Barbs of language and blades of actions,
Have shattered and rusted away,
Leaving me exposed to the ever-flying arrows of doubt.
And yet I still hobble on,
Dragging the sword that was my valor
And the shield that was my honor,
Hoping that one day,
All of my battles, both in and out of combat,
Were worth it to both my pledged lady and me.
Scar of TimeLeaden heart in a beating body,
Feeling of loss yet to come.
Death is not the messenger this time,
But distance is, bearing a scythe twice as big.
Thoughts floating around the ocean of the mind
Like jellyfish in the endless,
Wrapping about the victim of my heart,
Injuring the fragile muscle hidden within.
A trio of people, close and not at all,
Will continue on their way,
Breaking the fragile ties they have formed.
Karmic VindictionIf I wanted to let you go,
I'd set you in a basket afloat with balloons
So that you'd fly among the clouds.
You'd fly by yourself until the air runs out,
Sending you hurtling to the ground painlessly
To be met with a painful demise
And I'd walk over to you
With flowers for your grave
And prayers for your soul
And tell you that I told you so.
My Father's HandsMy father's hands have seen many years.
They have seen the birth of many children,
Two of his own,
And the departures of many more.
His hands have run over the cool metal of machinery,
Both in times of peace and times of war,
And have remained unscathed.
Markers of one strong, silent, and calm,
His hands have been a reassurance when I was upset,
A reminder that everything will be fine.
Even in sickness, his hands remain soft and strong,
A memory impressed upon the annals of life.
Hidden tears form at the comforting presence within,
Those symbols of strength, love, and determination fused.
These are my father's hands,
And the memory of them will live on forever.
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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