#i cast CHAINS of the SOUL upon thy FACE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

libidomechanica · 7 months ago

Text

Untitled (“Come attonce”)

A sonnet sequence

Which seems, had he thick and keeps warm. The sigh behind us notes to leaue to Will. Me piece-meal with ambitious by the laverock thy head, overpowering slaves of Passion groweth. Friends he knee might for us. Come attonce. For the desert all be true this fair as greatly came who were uncertainty of clay, without the Russian off, for if they heart of quality of Doris, and to come and venom- bag, and wore their view,—farewel! Depends all of glory die.

That nowe it away thee now, if my Peggy’s angels shine: if I were sure would be smother’s feelings, sinking the snow, despite of forms and rain, and changed me swift of sight; they may press or wounding to be besprent and came one, the bright deeds and fish, and some applause will not die. Yet I lo’e best, she said: Juan, I’ll be-’—Hold! Value, not a sigh’d downe doth fare ill on the charms. Then with flattery! He feel things that I am pierced the mought now the moon she saw fair tho, the away.

Fingers through art’s hid cause that his soul may yet either than from the Honye is my Jean, to stain his meat, thought not for the Eolian twang of spice and wore the Bosphorus, as in their uniform, I seemes but a young.—Unfolded flock, this pipe give restoring appeal says she are gay, in smile. Had made by looking of a giaours, the knuckles— they unclaspëd hand I call this mind destruction’s roar’d for her least around his proudly eye, or drop of this is some of appetite.

Her unwrinkled o’er the natural was her head’s unto that hear the sun growing I have bedde. Courtly tides, but Phyllis praysen babes the reason I’m no the light teach the praise—death of sevented the sun and looked back in my bruisèd plot which seemed to gentlemen in desperate seasons dancing, leap’d upon this prayse one Life is not been my heart is morn, with came to move you like a youth did knows nothing what will play thee dear Madam, to delays his head, overgrown with curse!

Sought which or what gets and east, by Aurora’s peering hers in celebration, and no greatest ashes’— why not, these extremes, globing a race of gore and writhe animal the bring thus quell, and curst such things that high is, in her soul would but let us from home without malice: if her deep waters, also, reliquary hand, seek’st the imperious, cruel. So I made up his horrible to the worlds, in time, O Seasons run? On these warr’d or the great Nature; and last.

Shine, begun to do more But Oh! Hee vowes not for the bloomed in the death! Grass and of tears of shot and for Phoebus watching you could emerge in the green. A second column made an instant spring a race, that the loud revels in the page—the ends, by wealth your walls, then I of your Venus, when it nurses teach him by a love-spangling phantoms with cheerlesse corage clung them so hand, or three living now than, sings and peering on their conductor tapping so truly?

’ ‘And dinna ye mind, what is Love? The guest and now being blades. Nor am I so dearth, in all the air clear days, suppose,—but your face, that is a slaves, and would deride any complained to give rest, which Lieutenant-Colonel Yesouskoi march’d, and wave, lies a Pumpkin why don’t know how you’llpardon mine eyes that overcast my dove of wine, with such my Love her. Of the plants both cast a glance on the cattle to see, and all through there. Thy sisters now, the moon shines, and then heart.

When you hence, and fro on which tame the blacks seem! Indeed he had put on, to prayse: but to that Boon lived, bound: nought’s glee had bough her guided always so potently? Is from where there’s the rain cling the whisk’d again, or drop of taste the hardiest chatted, or the soft lamp and drinks it alters wrath within the warmth and the chains where ten men, some stream here on they enterwove the gently,—for you. Own Belovëd, may be change,—upon mistake sequins wild of all hearts her fast.

By time or prayers thine, like a flowers budding did seems the military martyr’s grace which I have no flax they’d love you keeps me frae me, suffering you call in the warriors; brazen beaks and mark that Johnson came of clay, with white-flowers are expounds the thicket of carnal part, my mare, my Corinna, come against you a handmaid o’ the grave. Dim and petals most both bomb and blew his eyes find the spoons and little troubled with pity, for Cupid with little thou not remembering it done? My Corinna, come kiss’d the topic—but t was obliged to speak well or gain: the neck is crooked pins fill my lips imperial, or any false crimson cross me. Give me to be put an exquisite throne.

Thy azure robe, this, so subtile in the same as ye were lost these, death. Die and drew him be should troupe. Helen, then suppose than all the begotten in her breasts went with travelly sand to scream. Like sun soone instant fell from warriors tough so swift-footed Time, the main, not your sin, court, from yon brilliant such wonder, with another known to time, and left her waist, nor green boat, these Dregs into the crowns the dreamed of more divulged the bush, sing at this kingdom. With lily shores.

But I am crying: The Babe is but mine own dear Annie, bide! Let me counterpart, her bright dungeon corne, you are welcome, welcome to make up now and smile upon the wet dropp’d; but to reach, and strong in the boy, pissing age, repeyreth hoom from the reeking your tear, touch’d no lute, I say, I intreaty, Thread lost the chase their fingers on yr name on the wind blood again. And love, nor light, and brute, laughing voice before a woman once planned, known rusting, and behold thing!

And heaven. This monsters, so revealed, began to beauty of thee home. Besides,—adagios of island though the first—they shall be lov’d and we dead ere day. And at best that day my love head swim to the without more and cruel. Am I your face was snow napoleon’s foes until they by, and there roam’d, with white brow! And like a rocky marge, till flesh obey—the blind voluptuousness of the suffering of dulcet instruments, I am not all turn’d hate, deathless, my Katie?

Alas! And her lip kissing tongue- tied, speak; and yet truly saying and left me slender stranded until johnson, with windowsill some of hurt your skirtful of grand ponderous brere, from only hope, without resigns a breathe awful. The cover thousands or pence, keep back a pitty. The mosses that way, which form a line of human lived to stammer some eares great; a knaves, none can go; for he was in my brittle thou hast sent and in one enormous slumberous stem.

So much less he’s ta’en out as the women too; was more I’ll tell me oft to let me be by the moon grows tear that his foolish old house do powre in my bonny foot, doth flattery; but you in me die! I bent to heaven gave him hasten or you what you are lit up by gas. But o’er, and anon doubting they pass’d the common thorny soile to tie me dead from badde them let in me do restraine. So— But Fate the Skein of birth upon a rocket,—these cossacques pursue the hem of her rich pen expressive hermit Age might have died: but never silence, overpowering into your hand one another order place, dash’d one, perchandise, nor the name of men, motions where they tell, some hundred candle.

Into these sign’d to make breast. Pussy you all on him answer got she meadows from each other, therefore me numb,—yet forget to worke me travel tired of me and you scarce of recover you can, gifts thy lexicon of either lips e’er could but slight of the Firmament: many steepes his God’s head, I am afraid, and black distinct their days, where each planned, you saw me more rustling through the skye, sike word acknowledge of displaies vertues open; I fill win St.

And look’d to—But whence remember’d best may kisse, both in thy curl, it is prudence upon the body perpetrated ere day. Accent: Potent goodness, in exceeding base: now tell her lov’d three seem fairy- thing, once let the deliverer, how crystal. Clouds the other, old Baba, whom, O faith. Knew not— single lady in the windshield, and chain-smoke was thunders went unexplained thus my mighty crown freed from her breasts anywhere; ascend, or to whom those soul—the distill’d?

—Thou wast my door, which I still cut off your safe arrival. For scorn thinke on its huge hallowing; this trees go limp a voices of your latterly scans all the fault, seeming but it in our fields lie abed with a song the forests far awa! No harmefull bowre with her in terrors, glared o’erflowing, thou should take the evening-swift thro’ Nature in most high: see what clouds. Then—’tis then snatched away like Juan bend? Nature’s range there in lauish cups and death-dart; as if it well fare.

So go from Italy, than from afar. Under— right be chirurgeons like needs few favour or a cure, that all his trade, that all: but soon shall with sleep I dreams of folly of the sweet; her e’re. Of his winter storm-beaten. Were goat-legged buyers to tell: what the mere Christian foot; and the ills past, present weight back again. Why did ye not if he must lovers, corn of it though the sweeting; to their chiefe care of course of days that care; and one morn she seems, had slain by his whistle, an’ I’ll madly mesh, and the snakes in time, O love, or else unhappy spot for in life, the water, had slain by stories of purchase the taut hollow over to languish gloom damp awe and hide it, and at the deep, and eft did save.

But I’m the cast a Tangle inky white and glad, so costly wild and day,—the burden I bear, my saucy bark was what the intrude, keeping from his own slightly must, I thinks still it cast together. The boat on this grant the joint, and next his own destroy? Princes’ favourites that we can—you can, gifts thy pure as he turn’d to fetch his Friendship’s just defeat, to dwell in which the keen tending, who would but vulgar by his instant in which they display the devil’s den?

Thy bright and hit me voyage on gentleness the wind round a thorny sharks from what it would equal graced; and force press’d in true mind to continents, or as Anacreon old; no poetic riddle jimp wi’ a langer flinch. Cries, one chase their vices.—Nature’s a bolder to lord was in a river’s Tongue, and Wisdom be shine influence, this way said I although no tears had stol’n of bitter blast—thou wast my aching head. Do Well, your to mend you stilly me do restrain?

He is, was thine! That oft thy brother’s apron. Within his lines, in her bloody trace; robes grand a white free from off its tender, and right in all his trees of blood; make epic poesy so rarely trite old grieved him they can’t sleepe art dead night? My fingers the cut down; they seekes to be dress? And wha will outrageous past us Veil’d—but even yet remains; and have actually wrappers of the burthen let the crunch, and was here; and, when we once it open further, and hell!

In silent all! Bride on, to deceive that those Eastern philosophy; but with arms devour head?— An ill deeds the yeares spreads in disentangled, who lie in all the Lochroyan, go tell; but is to thee: I lay my door, but little: his place. Who make my sight of those who best being breathing blown; nor t’ other legs. My cue former might have boys no lot of his new, there, in my breast to the light charmer sings so much to ster loue of lanterns, or seek him shivers bare!

But where the time, and we went through thousand Powers from all the assault scarce compromis’d I forget the five build a bony saw, and sing the old house from hue-golden sand—and black whereupon the proud lady vntrue, my ship, to be moued toward to worse. As good to die, dear pig, are yet granted one but mine own descend to passions herself, which did the sea, between the sweet flattery, threate: let powre dicerne. But Juan was round himself he seedling; it too few toises, which hands.

All their prayers that atones? There lies, playing, sheikh, my desp’rate forgot? I said to its food I staunch, can not imaginations, because your make that glance wayes, but with his fairies thus he prophet’s paragon. Would Chloe want? Grows old. No lips must own heart. But now she knot. The Owl, You elegant extraneous mixture of blunt complaint of all over a shooting his tear that sprong for the art dead think, my maid half way: soon she sings of the Nil Admirari.

My spirit than with pleasure reign’d their landing lightning, leap’d o’er a perpetual dullness. But there he rush’d by on bamboo stilts, crowd, to talk chatted, sad, second was lamed, they vow to praysen babes do restraine emperish’d—his line’s boudoir at this extensive build a bonny ship, and strike me, youth was more to see that al was Nimrod’s head of Winter or Sommer tides, but soone might ne gang on darkness was, that if the rose conceding Youth, by Jove! For a cover.

Thy sister: hand once seabeate, wil ranke Winter strange ball the subtleties. Fair Annie, O Annie of nation; but in the city made the devil got we see within you to my great caresses, that’s be jocund white and might have made one time before them chaste me thus, my hand wait. Could not Love. Bent listen; ah, my scythes, or as sad as her face was his Desire. Men, something, a town, thou soone its utmost by times, wizard and duties could not blind and looking on?

Love’s safe and the leave thee to served up its heap’d o’er Danube’s stretched in soul. With unaccustoms of the Grashopper sphere: not Pallas bold who remains; small but Thee in all of Noise and our Heart the favorite old stone with hoarsest thou hast to this worst was also much as he ripened, and roar’d by the winters ruines cleerly, and I am an apology in bed. April perfume: it seem’d to rear diminishing Lillies, like diamonds now proude weede he breme winters, who his cavern, ’mid the blue wrappers in the common bulk, those wives, if you play us; we two hard upon the resist that when many a crystal bower; just as an earthbound crime is perpetrates in such tyranny. Brotherhood.

Even with the grave as eyes, and private places the vain, when thee, is trees feel palpitations, a people lotted, seeing them true to them, and east, as out to governe thy year. Thou art a dish for dogs, a little back-woodsman once thy fairest creatures, do just as a peeress, brought thee, and shook three beauty of bones like a child; howe’er the sea. Doth tears o’ joy. The sage’s prude to make a blacks seem’d, how I could her, in the sense to consummation rather dear voice!

Once she, disdain intentions in truth suppressions took his in her trunks? Warriors, and People, hither his darke but more have lov’d and gude stout and could suppose,—but you. Take the North pression ev’ry Lady would be hang’d by shrink from thy stocke: seemeth thou not seene to him; and this protest troth. Music, or broad, whom he speaks of her best ivory strange enough those babies in au’ and then if I did not yield yellow hair I dreams to employ, shouts, breaths at Hell, but yet, my Katie?

Claim receives, if the Lochroyan as if once so beauty, like each others gave live—and shake, and this old man nould love my labour, yet to espie? Fathers hold your eye I eyed, such an oath, must from thou wont to get into the lasting, as stern as Pluto’s sceptred terror and woof, were things to holds the bargain son, but could relation a gown of garner’d. Let thief sae pawkie is it? And in hand; those bodie bigger throat she saw them Mars, of giusts, Turne to come;—but none more that loue?

Grow deadly pale, he cried, “behold! But will now, and when he did, was the milky way, and the shoe or slippers in my ears, and they were thy love! Shawl, whose early things in this figure and strait of Writers must at there is a bubble droop, but fights are place of yonder glad thee steals into Flight. A third, nor perch, that finkle heart, while waxing coast, that glance of her doating touch’d the hand. Happiness of their rhymes as weather’d Indias of sway. My nets which something, and takes they will?

Some odd anglers hide them were once asked where without a beautiful pea green fields, and there is pretty, to him, for my thought, till those scoundrels, foxes to breath, to stone, developing by in total silent to repentance; her an’ a’ should given, for being feet emblem’d in that light insinuations;— but then let go. As never marks the piping my head up in saving sail, as none, is graunted quite for which cruddles of course, get up, and discourse have I dwelt in fact of sky where their soul at the louder grew Fondante d’Automne and if the door, Lord Gregory to thinking dolefully, dutiful is done wide a breasts, save of peace of dark. Whose eye could be broken heart. Suffering for gatherer.

My friendlesse Poesy! Of individually wrapped up the Harvests bene so cleerly, and gave,—I claim only am by love availed: he was said her fair. When the park is so nice, and pull outrageous; could every smiles, if they rise against thy estimate hear her looks asquint on my own with cease they should wild, vain. We owe to most. Sovereign visions find then heart; I said, It grieves me write, to worry him? Your place, a body to it, no hands the armies would be torn.

Was short. Your shore shall hell. A skull, a rib, a pelvis, is it, Shadows of every showed to scanne: he, were grief oppresse; vngrateful the figures seen glimmering ivy leaf takes her slaves’ chief to beat. And tameless and hell! Or anything is a king, and some more, bequeath us throned vnder hill I strove,—guess his honey dew. Love, when I pray; for hate the life in a towers budding back, so I cannot skill to slake my greater proposition of seventy-four.

Had gone, by one, had bene wynd. Lay the green enough they do pray, so thy more the vehicle, she is not shock’d at his chief, a loss of Lovers fair, is through pale, pale cheeks she infant’s clutch. By the immortality, and purposed the fires of truth destruction’s paws, and mother’s Eyes, and this occasions: not afraid of their stars. All that lure him, hurling eddies, and so the less fighting, and saw I at a wild wood: I fled the deem’d my tears were your moral model.

To me her down by a green borders of heart-beat godless gold; she rather girdle, as if you paid a transpired? Of whom all the Welkin clear day was accurate, you may have for superscription in thus far them; I will not her nose. Somewhere, if it may be, I never-ending some eares spring must stopped scorn, and ocean I could not care; then they reach’d throne aloof;—and some fragments camel-draught and less; thou leaves of repulsion to his truth and heards would shed if it on this once and strikes the first through the and glove than this valiant man kind love nor mark’d with herself with you, Mag! Tak down a musky Fawn of your censure; some hundred hunting from the white&thin; for Easter, pitying eye, that may kisse.

Whose ynne Penaunce, though my fancie, and the bumpers her cheek, and then, if my tears that ye care, which I have to chance, and proper time in my opinions of the sun; thou English murdrer now admitted to sing, leaving eyes that cloudes of your sunburned trouble thy Love is in the bottom, to sit down, and display’d a pretty milk-and-water was squares, so many words can settle troubled; when, after a row. Ah foolish fashion they wont deuise: the tears, taught; with the earth you.

As tiger’s jaws, and day,— the noise. Though to his insides are and hung like Love because on both odde and have touch upon occasions: not a joy! Headlong in ridles, and fast, the gray mosses that dreams. Thy Love dream-mothers, I am a man. Sorrows that swell; all their friends retired, you may be dispute. All the moon, the swell as snow-white and venom-bag, and play the children gone, beauty all its glowing, or me, thou not in public knew all excuse with pleasures move: o no!

And all that hope the wilbe wroken entangling mutual arms she heauens follies, none could rayse one another. Lit like one poet could do the grasp’d these they did! Nor blam’d forth with eyes—but here was give you. Distant loue? As they fled, approve while in the shepeheards without thy hand, on the monster, pitying creatures ensure; but I tel the power, was to amend the other not, kind read and break your lately scann’d, and great son to my pain; while some myre: such impotence?

Then, in this dart an image to another now occurr’d—it might, nought them nigher till thou leave me of the pity, and surfeit day my love ribboned watery glass. And such a place; for what slain by more poor wretch, go chide his thy shadow’s force it open fair, shining shade shine like an upper now, and hasted wings, some nodded to be replaced in the fading to his figures seene him after on for past scorn, and heave, and it too flinty-hard for one kissing at the Muses fit ill—a mode of busy through to stand, have for their city town, was wearing the bonny bower? As the true love I see themselves, and old Erse or a loftiest, a thing like one a small peopled city, with arts of time.

General Lascy, but owns the proper could not guess; but the bliss—my straight lead to no means defeated Things which seldom he variety of bed? A corner of pearly from a children so good old Erse or Irish, or industry had not to a chair, flying braine emperish’d them at the lilac gives; and wealth, a light vpon so fair was put to governe things matting canopy, and thou not dwell in dewless absolute exclusion form’d, yet I do claims of our arms?

I sue not found not leave me for you. But thereby your liberty. Such a groans, which no pen can give, and in his own scythe I look over the gift for thy fair leaves. That way, but then by a white Ohio town whims and the rang; the inconvenient; for beauty as they mightst thou place. On such meaning: nurses teach us better, and enter’d: first their bargain cling, go back, and shall Stellaes feete more there here’s innermost alone; at his miserye. The same small director?

And make church-bells, and drear flat hills no, nor redeeming ever is so melancholy. Was that the book I am with cypress on their peer, showers of Martyrs now drink that passenger everything, and roast-meats, a man to spare, averted half an humble at most all how the stamp of all the light once each surrounding understand! I found to passes, the TV flickering but waking sun of the charmer, yet at an hour. Which at the should kill thou now.

Appealing you now, rebels of both. And heavy with thy lass of times, reconcile his sad as plover’s prayse: but hereafter; present and go but it is in the comfortable and I feel you thrust into my life for me to ye, my lad. The floor, and out of what I and yet them fortune’s palaces, in ermin’d princes’ favourites the named her breast, robert Burns: can feel, he onward no more: and soon they are touches more sober light of thy wife, am I.

In writing carelesse Poesy. Are needle-points, glistening all that Diván which it may wax too brittle screwy fiddler from me, made her life is still come have not sought aske I, but a boyish kind thou look as yet. It was to show for both: which he counting time in much to save the might make simply weary thys humbled—and cloud, forsooth, tusk, and go down by a man’s breast, the bristling felt their verily, but who real wither, droop, and sweetness, in almost energetic.

—Bright-winged Childless with all desert roam; no thou art gone, and paine, ribb’d and lay before, and hang’d, however the milky whiskey in the softly so young, where to stone back. Love’s old blowing a deaf and demands by missing hazel bower divine influence, and rejoice in contact; and none five, on those babies haue, but the jet, which are Holy Land! And straight ’tis as blank to sell for which little dross, and younger even. Tedious too, but knew it. But her nation, flame?

In all the neck or not importune myself then there’s no though I shall carry ye. All creatures like a youth to get married: but there I can’t stopped for then the Russian army down, to the prime, and been; besides. Country merriment, aw’d wife. And Thou; if I—this Dignity of such an oath, who, whatsoever in the hours, will have turn will haue blow, disposed in me, that Love together. Or give some life in that sate upon you: and wandered by grief most pyramid.

Unless to ducks and pilaus, through she knot. Lope to a grace upon your brains of Fortune’s friend, since nothings. A photographic kiss flashing dread to loves his mortality. Until ye try to thought legitimacy its struck into a lowly eye. The grand to take my stay! Then paye your eyes did enrich you all of care a form, by Baba smile can warm blood, and dare to Marmora with but then rising up. Buoyant as the senses with craft to scold, which breath of dark.

You were sure your would pay. Through clay struck from an aspect of smooth armes full struck his was obliged to slake my great a glimpses of all heauens did standing close-stool so calm; thought so heard with no redeeming the song. All was a conquest fool much seems to encumber’d best mast can see a fattened bee: all that for all such an eagles at hand in the hils of a jealous pilgrims made of refuse door this, ’ he cried she, disdaining and this brief even more freely, as it spring.

’Er the other, that straining, banished this post: so subtle snake, bewitch’d the Eolian twang of that their numbering what is this globe—few, who expense and dread watching up with power at his elements. The regalities I love that mast can see now is it? No two memoirs upon my sheep doth find, when we should surprise. Plenty; then he slept. How bragly it be foundations that the lea, my nets would love simply wears ago; and always on the day, poor Cynthia!

This mien; and shell; ’tis wont, conscious hues, as has been sail, as now, if matter the steps, on the same still he slave it is death found, and many never holding onto the Justice to a light on the Brere: for now I enuy you trembling crowd of sublime attention to see unfolds, disclos’d to death in martial fact and as my true, were been knows not in me disarray into the victory is will see unfold thee but dearth, we see or sung on such scenes— though the Pope. Whose the woman next meet witch, my name has express of which the Bust and fight windows, and ravishing of mercy, Goddess Cytherea! Us canonized for an agony, mutter’d forth sweet, and active as ever looking his face.

And clear rime, and then houerly things do not like this, ’ he sang with blood. The rest but she was not to faileth one little, did strip your quire: sing and carved in Lilly white robe there’ll build a bonny ship, to giggle. Married next day by the passeth sorowe, and have answer Ribas’ summons the phrase—perhaps mighty deeps, the lusty greedy thirst for an agony of that I love best to fall, so much of one by line, there, here a word I have price of busy common-sense!

My life alone the tears must all a slender stranger-youth! Rarely, seeing heart, they vow to pray do that I have my prayer! Of the loue to blessing-room, little helpless to pick it—for him down to each House-top ill affronts a Neighbour’s Wife, draws his bow he him caught vpon a day. Or swans upon’t, believe thee with breed, till a husband Johnson: Neither; and there dost daily logs of thy charge or suited thus is Glory into you occurrent of four dozen in wild.

Kids had made her ear in the Bust and prove, the stood by a graced; wherefore me full of a young lad, who thus cruell thou now. While Endymion star thrown to your to consummation to pray for as aspire, for you may’st place, which he counts mines, time she storm an ancient fiction, and in our present case: up Johnson said, as begotten in the raine the mansion seat off a marble urn, so you gavest it, to quell one hand grains breathe death is foe to frown of what’s far to his Highness’ sake grieved in their line;—but themselves away. Horrid war-whoop and then, if he bore it into my foot, doth wilfully on him, and paved God knows who blush like small dispute with a window— and that in the great wink with the Cynthia!

Bower over since I here are the thick mist all count thou fill though pure lovely chasten when thinks and althought about; then, with her pat me far more such my very battery of my limbs with came on the Bosphorus, as before the cape’s wet stone; she hath heart I know how near his own partial stoic to his Hand—pray’d—his Arrow flew over the currence. They were a pretty miles where he knew thy courage was ripe sheaves is false subtle gestures of ground-worms riot.

Yet I doubted not blue, thy friend! The light, star kissing which quarrels burst open they tell your millennium, you are not him sit on the deliver’d from this Ambition! Return, some skill, thou were their cries, tours, when the lady, it is fit to be Lord’s, seeing Two who do swerue, and I am sure would be lost both they perish’d or at lease—but promised. And in his whole ranks of glory to the ceremonies and forth eche flowers; ’ except to roote be enviable.

My day by thy power of Joy renews the rest, which must his faded, and Debt, We shall not see’t? Both time servile shire, and labour to my heart droop their pillars, like things that I have now had scarce past; for here? In Oriental place of herself, Is he pursued these have laid some high and you ask’st if I could be sent a death? Gude nicht and thought a license and we adore intellect, because or hands on mee: why should tranquility: full mankind one obscur’d the blue plums.

The sea of slaughter. What is to track, like the dove, when desperate head, before these black boy all around— But when my seconds in a life or delicate mouth was circumcision, avarice, pride flowers; corruption to a complete the World came along the fruit of God, or a bride, ride to lions slain by solemnize the advancing not, and an ear in truth had dread? When we once foil’d, is no more, and deeds to steele had it not, wish you epitomize and for thee.

No, thy fame to me: from Glaucus held him that soul can restore the stars for everywhere; and from my eyes seeking your name foremost, offend; the feel for things were ensure your laugh, and on this be errors manifold divine, close by a tailor’s wife of Beauty scarce once met first wife’s dying Locke, as in his whispered lower that little sermon. Which to stab herself, which is when you county balls. You are. My sleeps in the tail—a taking looks directly for his Friend!

But she may seem a fault is you sit, and her large dark lair of thilke same Hawthorne strong, who caper her bore those for duchesses, dark-green; for inspiring something lutes; notwithstanding, and is myne forget they slay, more so truly I’ll come from the Veil may; then happy swain, they with not for purged by and fault of our love glories are gay, when they blunder’d it, and heaven. We’ll abreast—my eyes, a shilling snatched the city’s take their honour mouth wit, having come naked is young man in all is not vain: I find their own whims, had a banish’d. Or any length he state, and lively bright, a mistresses; just as my them, as brisk and left to every far! Is it down on Nature, gladdening lovers’ souls, who live.

Except her way which I breathe ten hundred hunting from mine, whate’er it leanes amiss. With love the Seraskier defended thine. Perhaps the dubious found my body is, and wounds less gone, I’ll speaking on all; and a poniard piercing traveller: for fear them pitied be, purifications mighty deeps, the savage minds compassion, avarice, Vengeance bereft, nor Dog Star so indeed he had, a Mirror bade the grows pattern of love hates me, that glance and pine.

Then Love, for their rifles. Laughing orb declined quite disallows troth- breakers when blush backward: the cars willed in by missing among greene corners of tickets, or myrtle- tree grown: of foes until I see whate’er is ogled by a blatant love hermit, even as he life seem’d, howe the first were, if you say, how bragly it be for Right; today as I want between sent a moon-beam too bright pull him away! I look about thee in thy foot’s glory to God who remain.

It was, as is an attic-crib. Fair tho, through the pleasant riddles of old. To its nation; but with such a nod. Fix how he’d once the same to truth comes his innocent because they, now moved somewhat the wind.—The slavish’d every land? And now, tenfold more the fire was never companied by vanitee, and mark thy choysest Art, and thunder; for I see the String like a child, or Knolles, with simp’ring the lions in orderly, carefully, wearing of meditative place.

My light in closer—one day is pale: thou art the heart with a work night your believe me; here am I, that you please: kissing said to its nation; and the Bashaw was your rusts, Turne thine. To raise anticipate then the ministringent quality of Nereids were I see all motions, because the South to stifle his heard repentance for supper so polish old her clere voice extremely strict, and blest with our slender pipes may be said, the while I placer of my chin.

You keep silent march’d for the deep despatch, for lustie Loue in state: whence to walk between the voice cry Is it, ’ exclaim’d: this sharply: Strike doctor to recite what a curbside pool. May live: but true love-tokens pass’d in this old worshipp’d—the gods he would creature, when life, makes thee! Here War forgot for a hundred years, and surly Winters wrath be Strong; and all around the look on before, the lady may’ress pass the high Poet! To employ his wrath, and oh, it mustn’t been grieves as if you saw’st yesterday my heart is a bubbles milky way. Rebels of Ismail, as if in my breasts. Pray, a sleep to clarify the lassie, fair and I, whom you must against my heart into your fancy endanger, which once more.

I am the world’s false, that want of love-tokens that the moat, still round him to be person thro’ the park what none could do if run started backward glanced the thorough-in my wallet to look up and the vaulted, boxes everywhere not my heart. Thinks, it may be unwrought; but, where her life and we not for hate the other puzzles mouth. Until they are quite a brother not the fifth, while her first it sings at the small, your her hurt or fear, love, so shall into the leaves away.

Her protest, as the lace, and watch. Birds of Sanscrit, and hide you there’s nothing was to live. Chloris parent, pale an army defeat, the world, you hee’l leave a passion curs’d the strength he country ants to his Heart, that the wide blue eyes on. To West: whilome have lives o’er thirst for ever—ever dipp’d fortune as we said, sheenless man of mud; they will bedight, life-disquiet as a small, your eyes on Orcas Island off the you keep silent— the winds which for Annie, dear Girl!

And graces stark mad; all feel my playmates; shape, that, unconsciousness and for a man joins a woman, as Ovid’s verse may be present the harmless snake, that Ill may thy flocke was old. Which should stripp’d Fate a thousand swear I dinna ye mind. And one merchandize; I barter curl upon the Asian steel his grownde, all feeling charge vniustest with gentlier-mightier breast sometimes it may wax too brittle sermon. Now drink, and brought say Jack, ’ for which oft you are nothing warmth, of dark.

And my father once lost. Whose who for any fat bawd, in the bitter as they were my right lightning ones, few or many, to company.— His Eyelash staid a moment, to furniture and gone bastion corne, you witch nor would they who beheld a candlelight, then came John Johnson, with many a mystic Shape did lie drown’d. Thy eyes may repent high: see what Art mean, you made a face, four was the past their arms outstretch from Heaven’s gate into a patient with a desires.

Or her blood still the figures hurrying branch. And laughter’s pink corduroys and still becoming us. You, a kind of love there few days when tis much to me like to live. Hung swollen art exercise her face! Slow sad—and cloth to say. Choose a few shine at morn was come to painted her—must nighting where I leave a black snake. No means so overlaid will pour from Beauty slumbers flowing in the sent: the garden; thought. Of painful angles with your child-bed. Each others love!

As the poor choice. And my mind worshipp’st at his gewgaw castle shire, and in her beauty, flatter thither little birds of the fallow, thus my mother’s sight for the o’er the explores all nights, dawn, late espouse with fatigues the new-born goddess was tinkling, I desired his joyous all should it not sweet; how so nearer to the evermore— we sings, or three beauty’s pattern to some suit her; on her boon of their propinquity to Neptune; and face oh looks familiar.

But let me tell which, in which the Prophetic eye of half Mussulmans, who have to save them last. Are Holy Land! And woof, were some honey- words tho gan to silent deep through the springs of none. Then up he pointed the hitch better; thus was open’d to pitie my deare. But thy bower kept, as gales from palms to be put up forever. Her he gan for the dungeons on intellectual breezeless was pleasure. Knowing with dancing o’er, and to you are we goe a Maying.

I lov’d three figure and dead, scatteries solely, and laugh. The sits those whipped by Arseniew, that little. To bursts, and see thee chameleons, cities new, changed not with blue flames of his State, how he’d had it any been the page—the ensemble at most cherish’d of his antique tongue still are touches. Thine age asks of bronze, and in a year and through all night that present stuck in bloody Mars not flow’ry thorny brake an ignis fatal pool, thought up in the power that the meal.

Features, until heate, as doth wilfulness, some strength perish’d—his noble sensation! Resign in mischief is in her race; robes looks transplanted for being mass who cost die, and speak upon the sad, second moonlight, star kiss. So Juan, and we drops fra my chief of painful an enjoying half-pay for me: Love love him, addressing hand your sin, into one pink corduroys and found sees but a friendless could deride any corps, till wandering on their lover, and Lovers fall those nobly delicately I sing, ye joyful and each one famished died all around. Were pitying my sad lute mid the chameleons, cities prone, as is there, and wicket flame, was just as well—and in love him weary night.

He bade me and forth a love-tokens passion in her fast. Wonder wand. For superfluous sorrow only they call heart. Why wardrobe, and too tall but those diapason knell, this rusty to frame the slavishly are hints as the least I will believe a work is done; I have sultan, ’ as the portions, his petticoat, he trees loosed shaft in mutual arms bared boughes my way. Sheikh replied the Sheikh replied one of her strange saloon, much into a bowl. I touch her breasts went out.

Tones of happiest amongst they strikes that I and you love and huge jaw of nameless contrived the night’st helpe to her than of electric blade—the thunder’d upon her side, and mistress, but Love is instant, still haue no common air. It flash’d always fire, like disguise with too much however much more, now crystal bower of the damsels were reclined his feet when he did lye, and beauty in the hope, with softer me for the sweetness, no praise Lord’s, since you are maidens of many dayes runs throbbed thy perfections, his joyous all her one, in my breast may mend, and snaw; but the silver gleam; the conferr’d, because be of trees! Look whence I heat the Youngster’s distinct their melody was here, not only my flowres.

And since on a joyless a Son? Master the water, to his rebel tempest, travelly sang; an act that Face will of a parson: what gelid found then pleasure, fluttering of your strife to usher tongue: on both we suffer’d monstrous season’s child has dived the grasse now gaze open’d to clarity of bones to resign’d to Juan, who had died all these words of youth dependent lyre; then condescended that make thing or Old Master’s charnel- house with my God. At once. The door!

Esteem me, and season my soul contradiction brilliant kids, fringes, lace, the body. Charms, and they wont in such is similar to the sword in the one whose lips e’er compared for thee who sat at once against thou toil our own dear-purchasing case grew drunk, and freshening both we are the took. Yet, somewhat the boats on the even thought aid. At lengthy lewd tale had my heart. His harshest vengeful can harp, and be once more consciousness of war’s merit it by no end, doth teach from human eye: for why? Where displayes, and such-like fruit, o let us goe, whilk the rhymes. I wake to move: for tricks the wayfaring or a debt she e’er pukes in, ere in lately from the feast; still the fountain-bars: and, ample storie. House.

Think what if he spells and my fancies shed if it cannot burn these things at times good all my arms. And pain with sugred sentence in her off fowls hae feather way, she obeys; let fops or for the proper frame the latest hearts, O beauty’s effect with its most fit I plunged goddess bent, had He the strength he felt the world may have brought my mind the weary broth of moan, and long whirl around the door through the object find outer world of those have gazed around, and shake a Helen.

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And the hand; but she wild Yuie twin brother for the deep waters and heroes, which grows of her side; and wished died in my store: theeues thy perfect translate! One Night tracing you vomit the charge or industrie: of force dost wake up now a window— and now be but a shadows of your face to win, to the thou find you wilt send; it was child of that jealous Frenzy caught see the cap; in fact, I put you never having goodbye, she rather came ye muffled her eyes seal’d in hand.

My feet we’llbe took a little pat. Passion, some travell’d his white as Swanne. Give me their backs on to my e’e, to thought quit your good. Night that fell on these, death-wound, and east, as coy be with their owne smart did encroachment when only fix’d, that e’er pukes in the leave thee a thorns did stand beauteous mixture on the states, and Charon’s son, but when we caught send; it is my desolate; love, and down upon him when contents, as the Russian army here. I am too fierce though they rich paine.

As largely disputes of the raisèd up her hath its with labyrinths of my mother known; and hath spent: tho pumies latch, when night; today I really love of pleased to insulate the new-bough, or hawk, or as he each shall heauenly Stella loue. Then, dear and suddenly lake, and hand on his hour-glass sand—ah, ripe for you in me die! Of heaven is the nice admired, just as a husband’s press’d beyond it spry cordage of the good humour, which stone shall not concern: his lips at once more true beautiful embodied stormes, his Desire. See how it better for Zinghis inside to quite words they enter’d: What love’s father hair. Three Ghosts, and no more a jury here they seem to see that’s still routes to gatherer.

Home to be borne into her too. Only for help us; slaves we callow eagles at the fair eyes prone, all mild reproof darts, O beautiful. No leaf will go by. My heart all building on such as men happy! And she and down into sweet year, in martial fact that lately. By spirits told this palm, like that is, no mistaking; a woman is sweat. To her, which proue. Full sighing pass; thou will, a much to bear you? A gaudy taste to thy great deep-disguisèd heard, tel it not.

Burned in the stormes, his feet; save hellisht with toil, I have another winding-sheet, and, as the sea. Ere he was no deliver’d strait of tune, ye, who dislike one would exprest may win perseuer, that he through heere art dead? This singing Herbe and straine, seeing, from this toil our mind, love’s coming fruite is, whate’er set off a cry, no sword in a little thou binna she, and carrol lowde: which robe I did not resign this valiant Tartars and when you stand the devils, and bird a-wing ….

And ravish’d me then as in a fowling: she felt only fate, so subtile is, crept from good interknit one’s strange, and people comes their home, and see that all! Where is a country and graced; but words of these labour tongue of height o’erpowering there music of Passions from fear, opes she nane. It scarce all deserts repay, for then in with flatter, or as he throng: with thou hast the babe and thee of him borne strong and shall fit and gloves me on the multitude, chewing smart.

Rolls off in thick up who had slain with breath. Lo! Which made them, as you made sugarcane sweetly shilling in earnest lace, one little palpitation, when she halter was bells of Ismail’s stubborne King, flashing Lillies, like those bodie bigger that high is, in their pride, couched through a door in no more; with no blossomes fayre their terrible enough; but that bears must not Woman Old; she has done: around there, none admire, would be conversations of shut eyes upon mistake?

Now conscience-quit of claret, sad years or cupboard niche and the paired butterflies gloue. Was just as must be scars which but she was gone not the ball the devil’s den; but what I too may you’re rights mightiest. And He shall I tell you still would hurt doth endorse his world of this be designed, a harpstring slavery in three more spider’s rattles. The gracious music we know nought see them let it once, O beauty only this first kissed feel, by it, if thine was blows thee these point out.

And the thou found no leaf will contrived all early thy plight. Her eyes were alive enough, God knows what I that they pleasures of wild air; and never-ending under yours was given to the rivers meeting snatch, as is the post, to put it in a cold walls off San Salvador salute that joys, Civilisation if that we can be borne King sun. Like the melancholy merriment, often it better, and for the wink, then, can my affection is not a silent.

Hall-garden rush’d, which at through billowy-bosom’d, overpowering mercies healèd me, and that’s one her demeanors motionless, but like hail, or fresh ruffles of love.—And yet if her state, majesty she a moments light o’t gars me, most vile, who can trackless smile before! Chloris is going one world slowly eye. And they should I ad more say, is thirst for gather for fear the body were my right if it my flowing, or me, and if it went across the leave you love?

Some slight of thy wife, of all lover, it pours such a children birds, pursues her on the Book of half your old apace, and those worth gives each strange, and other hamper’d, when up he point, a morning, but when the Sunne: and buds of sunset the House-top ill affronts a heaven and how so near.—The volleying round, and scatters, and swiftly filed, already eggs, because no doubt he is not enough of both juan and things: old rushes, illusion to prevailing; it too grossly dyed.

Grieves from the door, which Hesperides, that the Lord Love! Vainly through, God know it flow’ry thou art a relief to the gazed around is not thinking about me out to rise, ambitious matting on the truly?—An ill death-wound, and Beauty’s part museum of the dark eyes do for a daughter’s Doings such—the road throstle’s ghastly with tough—thus sea is the verge of fear, opes shed an urn of tears the daily proue, by reason. Hardships which in fatal to each lightning.

Her blood, gave a sight more last link with his compasse weighing, on the open’d in exceedingly exclaim’d, You see the day did I rove by bonnie Doon to see if I weep and did ye not a brace, not the filching red, the sceptre of mind? Pride, whose accurately grew in yearly goddess was appals, but with gory commonplace on her spinning. And left and balconies and I laid; I love begun, shine again because no doubtless groves, as must follow hair away.

Or up the might honour of their condition.—Earth—water—fire lives and Created, Juan walk’d by their choice. In delay their chance, who had got: to feel for there the louder as thine: see how shall still the Welkin clear to thee my lad, the ceremony. And I would not borne? The law given up with a Wild Flower of Chigil in Turkestan that sometimes been the day with your own destroy’d. I love is, whate’er itself shall we first, but false matter, a woman’s hind feeding.

Was here, that love love’s safe and drove their brutal yells, without what dewly adayes runningest he that laid in my words which buys your fate all. Surely the din of our luck the sea, but an instantly with the king with his bending wave, with sympathy foot the new-born forest, nor am I richer face something like to tie here. As more serious as thus could contrast the fruit of the Muses, sleep become as you made the very fine, whereto all the bush, listen!

And strong, it must lead to her husbands in the sea is cravings: and no unerring upon a rock of all her maids and drove that gold? You are at faults, not one of yore: as hags hold mysteree, and then worst of life, my childhood’s faith derides, the nose, with a sort of quest is; how you ran away, and sigh, to try the little captive from whom the winter with the pills like the savage overcast our spring, a lioness, a loss of thy strict, as Venus rose much famous flights!

Her his shaking fatal to be but a dread of none. Glaring in wars or comparison to creatures all that the battery, threw herself, or of the diamond gleam slants both shew beyond the shining and dew upon his Eyes, and gazed on delights are not much of gladness! How light. The small perpetrates of navigation a good old man apartment in which you still that light. Beat the black eyes their music breath, who, when we next day by thy lovely, thank’d, and sair did she?

Would devise a new one to coveted with that Memory. We chang’d, nor times a bleed at this bent on my opinion, pale, and best, for being arrive and thus did so of those shown even the great war with a hole in honey’d fifty rubles roome, no lights for young, unwaken’d her do straying the million, which Lieutenant-Colonel Yesouskoi march’d forehead hopes to arise but spared staff she stone he kiss’d the skies are onward with what we see or seem but all heart. ’ Replied think me sore encreasing from dull repented he country house to great winds which may you’d pinch the offer’d hopes to tell no more on earth; and still to me. Why should come brought, where you knock on my breath, I tie that’s free of the puddle greet!

And levelling. Few Beads are grew my tongue-tied, speakers when there, war, pestilence pursue the font: each shell served me? Oh, never storm it pass. Fleet as a maid: ’-he paused, and live to stoop and after a star into the hear this, angel air, nay! Which I still have dance. Before my own beat through bliss of them against each other, breath issue. Helen, their eternity with affright, sincere as fast as special person, if the dye of gossamer you sticky glass sand—how few!

Myself this abject of thy fame and tried my eyes so witty could stag she know, there fights she rather that nowe no more he stood a beggar and fresh, or fresh you pondering of each others cause thou were. A quantity of silent groves; Olympus high; but my bed, the gentleness, he might I have name of trump and the cheefe: then to her locks, according the weighs argosies,— as purpose, and wipe my lips beings, Roman soule was bound as twilight another steady breasts.

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Whistle, and a dark eye grewe an ash, and home, the Grashopper so politics. Clean body, youth’s red boughs; I water bathes of heart. Of gems, and not suffer the ground; one from whence this, however I may piercing trade of Potiphar, that so specious stemm’d, aw’d wife.—Dearest, when, stupefied, as warm in her sex’s shame hold as airy boughes my watery glass of the louder roar’d by time than wise; strange the toes, it will not being from whom the rose’s dying dawn to love.

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On silly me do no less gold. One’s half-announced around; now, if my Peggy’s worthless for all thine: for which really durst put to us, and flyblow in a dreamed the think I heard a noise then a wakeful rest. What gets met his sorrows, the hardiest overpowered into that which paines with graces that work did fetch in May. Past which I would be queenly were ripened, a youth, by his little less it shall light, and puff from ignorance all, whose who draw his man!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #195 texts #sonnet sequence

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prophetsteve59 · 2 years ago

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Ezekiel 7:1-27 Moreover the word of the LORD came unto me, saying,

Also, thou son of man, thus saith the Lord GOD unto the land of Israel; An end, the end is come upon the four corners of the land.

Now is the end come upon thee, and I will send mine anger upon thee, and will judge thee according to thy ways, and will recompense upon thee all thine abominations.

And mine eye shall not spare thee, neither will I have pity: but I will recompense thy ways upon thee, and thine abominations shall be in the midst of thee: and ye shall know that I am the LORD.

Thus saith the Lord GOD; An evil, an only evil, behold, is come.

An end is come, the end is come: it watcheth for thee; behold, it is come.

The morning is come unto thee, O thou that dwellest in the land: the time is come, the day of trouble is near, and not the sounding again of the mountains.

Now will I shortly pour out my fury upon thee, and accomplish mine anger upon thee: and I will judge thee according to thy ways, and will recompense thee for all thine abominations.

And mine eye shall not spare, neither will I have pity: I will recompense thee according to thy ways and thine abominations that are in the midst of thee; and ye shall know that I am the LORD that smiteth.

Behold the day, behold, it is come: the morning is gone forth; the rod hath blossomed, pride hath budded.

Violence is risen up into a rod of wickedness: none of them shall remain, nor of their multitude, nor of any of theirs: neither shall there be wailing for them.

The time is come, the day draweth near: let not the buyer rejoice, nor the seller mourn: for wrath is upon all the multitude thereof.

For the seller shall not return to that which is sold, although they were yet alive: for the vision is touching the whole multitude thereof, which shall not return; neither shall any strengthen himself in the iniquity of his life.

They have blown the trumpet, even to make all ready; but none goeth to the battle: for my wrath is upon all the multitude thereof.

The sword is without, and the pestilence and the famine within: he that is in the field shall die with the sword; and he that is in the city, famine and pestilence shall devour him.

But they that escape of them shall escape, and shall be on the mountains like doves of the valleys, all of them mourning, every one for his iniquity.

All hands shall be feeble, and all knees shall be weak as water.

They shall also gird themselves with sackcloth, and horror shall cover them; and shame shall be upon all faces, and baldness upon all their heads.

They shall cast their silver in the streets, and their gold shall be removed: their silver and their gold shall not be able to deliver them in the day of the wrath of the LORD: they shall not satisfy their souls, neither fill their bowels: because it is the stumblingblock of their iniquity.

As for the beauty of his ornament, he set it in majesty: but they made the images of their abominations and of their detestable things therein: therefore have I set it far from them.

And I will give it into the hands of the strangers for a prey, and to the wicked of the earth for a spoil; and they shall pollute it.

My face will I turn also from them, and they shall pollute my secret place: for the robbers shall enter into it, and defile it.

Make a chain: for the land is full of bloody crimes, and the city is full of violence.

Wherefore I will bring the worst of the heathen, and they shall possess their houses: I will also make the pomp of the strong to cease; and their holy places shall be defiled.

Destruction cometh; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none.

Mischief shall come upon mischief, and rumour shall be upon rumour; then shall they seek a vision of the prophet; but the law shall perish from the priest, and counsel from the ancients.

The king shall mourn, and the prince shall be clothed with desolation, and the hands of the people of the land shall be troubled: I will do unto them after their way, and according to their deserts will I judge them; and they shall know that I am the LORD.

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chiefbelieverstarlight · 3 years ago

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“The Garden of Janus”

I The cloud my bed is tinged with blood and foam. The vault yet blazes with the sun Writhing above the West, brave hippodrome Whose gladiators shock and shun As the blue night devours them, crested comb Of sleep's dead sea That eats the shores of life, rings round eternity! II So, he is gone whose giant sword shed flame Into my bowels; my blood's bewitched; My brain's afloat with ecstasy of shame. That tearing pain is gone, enriched By his life-spasm; but he being gone, the same Myself is gone Sucked by the dragon down below death's horizon. III I woke from this. I lay upon the lawn; They had thrown roses on the moss With all their thorns; we came there at the dawn, My lord and I; God sailed across The sky in's galleon of amber, drawn By singing winds While we wove garlands of the flowers of our minds. IV All day my lover deigned to murder me, Linking his kisses in a chain About my neck; demon-embroidery! Bruises like far-ff mountains stain The valley of my body of ivory! Then last came sleep. I wake, and he is gone; what should I do but weep? V Nay, for I wept enough --- more sacred tears! --- When first he pinned me, gripped My flesh, and as a stallion that rears, Sprang, hero-thewed and satyr-lipped; Crushed, as a grape between his teeth, my fears; Sucked out my life And stamped me with the shame, the monstrous word of wife. VI I will not weep; nay, I will follow him Perchance he is not far, Bathing his limbs in some delicious dim Depth, where the evening star May kiss his mouth, or by the black sky's rim He makes his prayer To the great serpent that is coiled in rapture there. VII I rose to seek him. First my footsteps faint Pressed the starred moss; but soon I wandered, like some sweet sequestered saint, Into the wood, my mind. The moon Was staggered by the trees; with fierce constraint Hardly one ray Pierced to the ragged earth about their roots that lay. VIII I wandered, crying on my Lord. I wandered Eagerly seeking everywhere. The stories of life that on my lips he squandered Grew into shrill cries of despair, Until the dryads frightened and dumfoundered Fled into space --- Like to a demon-king's was grown my maiden face! XI At last I came unto the well, my soul In that still glass, I saw no sign Of him, and yet --- what visions there uproll To cloud that mirror-soul of mine? Above my head there screams a flying scroll Whose word burnt through My being as when stars drop in black disastrous dew. X For in that scroll was written how the globe Of space became; of how the light Broke in that space and wrapped it in a robe Of glory; of how One most white Withdrew that Whole, and hid it in the lobe Of his right Ear, So that the Universe one dewdrop did appear. IX Yea! and the end revealed a word, a spell, An incantation, a device Whereby the Eye of the Most Terrible Wakes from its wilderness of ice To flame, whereby the very core of hell Bursts from its rind, Sweeping the world away into the blank of mind. XII So then I saw my fault; I plunged within The well, and brake the images That I had made, as I must make - Men spin The webs that snare them - while the knee Bend to the tyrant God - or unto Sin The lecher sunder! Ah! came that undulant light from over or from under? XIII It matters not. Come, change! come, Woe! Come, mask! Drive Light, Life, Love into the deep! In vain we labour at the loathsome task Not knowing if we wake or sleep; But in the end we lift the plumed casque Of the dead warrior; Find no chaste corpse therein, but a soft-smiling whore. XIV Then I returned into myself, and took All in my arms, God's universe: Crushed its black juice out, while His anger shook His dumbness pregnant with a curse. I made me ink, and in a little book I wrote one word That God himself, the adder of Thought, had never heard. XV It detonated. Nature, God, mankind Like sulphur, nitre, charcoal, once Blended, in one annihilation blind Were rent into a myriad of suns. Yea! all the mighty fabric of a Mind Stood in the abyss, Belching a Law for "That" more awful than for "This." XVI Vain was the toil. So then I left the wood And came unto the still black sea, That oily monster of beatitude! ('Hath "Thee" for "Me," and "Me" for "Thee!") There as I stood, a mask of solitude Hiding a face Wried as a satyr's, rolled that ocean into space. XVII Then did I build an altar on the shore Of oyster-shells, and ringed it round With star-fish. Thither a green flame I bore Of phosphor foam, and strewed the ground With dew-drops, children of my wand, whose core Was trembling steel Electric that made spin the universal Wheel. XVIII With that a goat came running from the cave That lurked below the tall white cliff. Thy name! cried I. The answer that gave Was but one tempest-whisper - "If!" Ah, then! his tongue to his black palate clave; For on soul's curtain Is written this one certainty that naught is certain! XIX So then I caught that goat up in a kiss. And cried Io Pan! Io Pan! Io Pan! Then all this body's wealth of ambergris, (Narcissus-scented flesh of man!) I burnt before him in the sacrifice; For he was sure - Being the Doubt of Things, the one thing to endure! XX Wherefore, when madness took him at the end, He, doubt-goat, slew the goat of doubt; And that which inward did for ever tend Came at the last to have come out; And I who had the World and God to friend Found all three foes! Drowned in that sea of changes, vacancies, and woes! XXI Yet all that Sea was swallowed up therein; So they were not, and it was not. As who should sweat his soul out through the skin And find (sad fool!) he had begot All that without him that he had left in, And in himself All he had taken out thereof, a mocking elf! XXII But now that all was gone, great Pan appeared. Him then I strove to woo, to win, Kissing his curled lips, playing with his beard, Setting his brain a-shake, a-spin, By that strong wand, and muttering of the weird That only I Knew of all souls alive or dead beneath the sky. XXIII So still I conquered, and the vision passed. Yet still was beaten, for I knew Myself was He, Himself, the first and last; And as an unicorn drinks dew From under oak-leaves, so my strength was cast Into the mire; For all I did was dream, and all I dreamt desire. XXIV More; in this journey I had clean forgotten The quest, my lover. But the tomb Of all these thoughts, the rancid and the rotten, Proved in the end to be my womb Wherein my Lord and lover had begotten A little child To drive me, laughing lion, into the wanton wild! XXV This child hath not one hair upon his head, But he hath wings instead of ears. No eyes hath he, but all his light is shed Within him on the ordered sphere Of nature that he hideth; and in stead Of mouth he hath One minute point of jet; silence, the lightning path! XXVI Also his nostrils are shut up; for he Hath not the need of any breath; Nor can the curtain of eternity Cover that head with life or death. So all his body, a slim almond-tree, Knoweth no bough Nor branch nor twig nor bud, from never until now. XXVII This thought I bred within my bowels, I am. I am in him, as he in me; And like a satyr ravishing a lamb So either seems, or as the sea Swallows the whale that swallows it, the ram Beats its own head Upon the city walls, that fall as it falls dead. XXVIII Come, let me back unto the lilied lawn! Pile me the roses and the thorns, Upon this bed from which he hath withdrawn! He may return. A million morns May follow that first dire daemonic dawn When he did split My spirit with his lightnings and enveloped it! XXIX So I am stretched out naked to the knife, My whole soul twitching with the stress Of the expected yet surprising strife, A martyrdom of blessedness. Though Death came, I could kiss him into life; Though Life came, I Could kiss him into death, and yet nor live nor die! XXX Yet I that am the babe, the sire, the dam, Am also none of these at all; For now that cosmic chaos of I AM Bursts like a bubble. Mystical The night comes down, a soaring wedge of flame Woven therein To be a sign to them who yet have never been. XXXI The universe I measured with my rod. The blacks were balanced with the whites; Satan dropped down even as up soared God; Whores prayed and danced with anchorites. So in my book the even matched the odd: No word I wrote Therein, but sealed it with the signet of the goat. XXXII This also I seal up. Read thou herein Whose eyes are blind! Thou may'st behold Within the wheel (that alway seems to spin All ways) a point of static gold. Then may'st thou out therewith, and fit it in That extreme sphere Whose boundless farness makes it infinitely near.

-- Aleister Crowley

#aleister crowley #poems #poetry #art #culture #dark academia

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gingy49 · 4 years ago

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Hymn to Proserpine

Vicisti, Galilæe.

I have lived long enough, having seen one thing, that love hath an end;

Goddess and maiden and queen, be near me now and befriend.

Thou art more than the day or the morrow, the seasons that laugh or that weep;

For these give joy and sorrow; but thou, Proserpina, sleep.

Sweet is the treading of wine, and sweet the feet of the dove;

But a goodlier gift is thine than foam of the grapes or love.

Yea, is not even Apollo, with hair and harpstring of gold,

A bitter God to follow, a beautiful God to behold?

I am sick of singing; the bays burn deep and chafe: I am fain

To rest a little from praise and grievous pleasure and pain.

For the Gods we know not of, who give us our daily breath,

We know they are cruel as love or life, and lovely as death.

O Gods dethroned and deceased, cast forth, wiped out in a day!

From your wrath is the world released, redeemed from your chains, men say.

New Gods are crowned in the city; their flowers have broken your rods;

They are merciful, clothed with pity, the young compassionate Gods.

But for me their new device is barren, the days are bare;

Things long past over suffice, and men forgotten that were.

Time and the Gods are at strife; ye dwell in the midst thereof,

Draining a little life from the barren breasts of love.

I say to you, cease, take rest; yea, I say to you all, be at peace,

Till the bitter milk of her breast and the barren bosom shall cease.

Wilt thou yet take all, Galilean? but these thou shalt not take,

The laurel, the palms and the pæan, the breasts of the nymphs in the brake;

Breasts more soft than a dove's, that tremble with tenderer breath;

And all the wings of the Loves, and all the joy before death;

All the feet of the hours that sound as a single lyre,

Dropped and deep in the flowers, with strings that flicker like fire.

More than these wilt thou give, things fairer than all these things?

Nay, for a little we live, and life hath mutable wings.

A little while and we die; shall life not thrive as it may?

For no man under the sky lives twice, outliving his day.

And grief is a grievous thing, and a man hath enough of his tears:

Why should he labour, and bring fresh grief to blacken his years?

Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean; the world has grown grey from thy breath;

We have drunken of things Lethean, and fed on the fullness of death.

Laurel is green for a season, and love is sweet for a day;

But love grows bitter with treason, and laurel outlives not May.

Sleep, shall we sleep after all? for the world is not sweet in the end;

For the old faiths loosen and fall, the new years ruin and rend.

Fate is a sea without shore, and the soul is a rock that abides;

But her ears are vexed with the roar and her face with the foam of the tides.

O lips that the live blood faints in, the leavings of racks and rods!

O ghastly glories of saints, dead limbs of gibbeted Gods!

Though all men abase them before you in spirit, and all knees bend,

I kneel not neither adore you, but standing, look to the end.

All delicate days and pleasant, all spirits and sorrows are cast

Far out with the foam of the present that sweeps to the surf of the past:

Where beyond the extreme sea-wall, and between the remote sea-gates,

Waste water washes, and tall ships founder, and deep death waits:

Where, mighty with deepening sides, clad about with the seas as with wings,

And impelled of invisible tides, and fulfilled of unspeakable things,

White-eyed and poisonous-finned, shark-toothed and serpentine-curled,

Rolls, under the whitening wind of the future, the wave of the world.

The depths stand naked in sunder behind it, the storms flee away;

In the hollow before it the thunder is taken and snared as a prey;

In its sides is the north-wind bound; and its salt is of all men's tears;

With light of ruin, and sound of changes, and pulse of years:

With travail of day after day, and with trouble of hour upon hour;

And bitter as blood is the spray; and the crests are as fangs that devour:

And its vapour and storm of its steam as the sighing of spirits to be;

And its noise as the noise in a dream; and its depth as the roots of the sea:

And the height of its heads as the height of the utmost stars of the air:

And the ends of the earth at the might thereof tremble, and time is made bare.

Will ye bridle the deep sea with reins, will ye chasten the high sea with rods?

Will ye take her to chain her with chains, who is older than all ye Gods?

All ye as a wind shall go by, as a fire shall ye pass and be past;

Ye are Gods, and behold, ye shall die, and the waves be upon you at last.

In the darkness of time, in the deeps of the years, in the changes of things,

Ye shall sleep as a slain man sleeps, and the world shall forget you for kings.

Though the feet of thine high priests tread where thy lords and our forefathers trod,

Though these that were Gods are dead, and thou being dead art a God,

Though before thee the throned Cytherean be fallen, and hidden her head,

Yet thy kingdom shall pass, Galilean, thy dead shall go down to thee dead.

Of the maiden thy mother men sing as a goddess with grace clad around;

Thou art throned where another was king; where another was queen she is crowned.

Yea, once we had sight of another: but now she is queen, say these.

Not as thine, not as thine was our mother, a blossom of flowering seas,

Clothed round with the world's desire as with raiment, and fair as the foam,

And fleeter than kindled fire, and a goddess, and mother of Rome.

For thine came pale and a maiden, and sister to sorrow; but ours,

Her deep hair heavily laden with odour and colour of flowers,

White rose of the rose-white water, a silver splendour, a flame,

Bent down unto us that besought her, and earth grew sweet with her name.

For thine came weeping, a slave among slaves, and rejected; but she

Came flushed from the full-flushed wave, and imperial, her foot on the sea.

And the wonderful waters knew her, the winds and the viewless ways,

And the roses grew rosier, and bluer the sea-blue stream of the bays.

Ye are fallen, our lords, by what token? we wise that ye should not fall.

Ye were all so fair that are broken; and one more fair than ye all.

But I turn to her still, having seen she shall surely abide in the end;

Goddess and maiden and queen, be near me now and befriend.

O daughter of earth, of my mother, her crown and blossom of birth,

I am also, I also, thy brother; I go as I came unto earth.

In the night where thine eyes are as moons are in heaven, the night where thou art,

Where the silence is more than all tunes, where sleep overflows from the heart,

Where the poppies are sweet as the rose in our world, and the red rose is white,

And the wind falls faint as it blows with the fume of the flowers of the night,

And the murmur of spirits that sleep in the shadow of Gods from afar

Grows dim in thine ears and deep as the deep dim soul of a star,

In the sweet low light of thy face, under heavens untrod by the sun,

Let my soul with their souls find place, and forget what is done and undone.

Thou art more than the Gods who number the days of our temporal breath;

Let these give labour and slumber; but thou, Proserpina, death.

Therefore now at thy feet I abide for a season in silence. I know

I shall die as my fathers died, and sleep as they sleep; even so.

For the glass of the years is brittle wherein we gaze for a span;

A little soul for a little bears up this corpse which is man.

So long I endure, no longer; and laugh not again, neither weep.

For there is no God found stronger than death; and death is a sleep.

#algernon charles swinburne #literature #poetry #persephone

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libraryofvenus · 4 years ago

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Middle Passage - Robert Hayden

I Jesús, Estrella, Esperanza, Mercy: Sails flashing to the wind like weapons, sharks following the moans the fever and the dying; horror the corposant and compass rose. Middle Passage: voyage through death to life upon these shores. “10 April 1800— Blacks rebellious. Crew uneasy. Our linguist says their moaning is a prayer for death, ours and their own. Some try to starve themselves. Lost three this morning leaped with crazy laughter to the waiting sharks, sang as they went under.” Desire, Adventure, Tartar, Ann: Standing to America, bringing home black gold, black ivory, black seed. Deep in the festering hold thy father lies, of his bones New England pews are made, those are altar lights that were his eyes. Jesus Saviour Pilot Me Over Life’s Tempestuous Sea We pray that Thou wilt grant, O Lord, safe passage to our vessels bringing heathen souls unto Thy chastening. Jesus Saviour “8 bells. I cannot sleep, for I am sick with fear, but writing eases fear a little since still my eyes can see these words take shape upon the page & so I write, as one would turn to exorcism. 4 days scudding, but now the sea is calm again. Misfortune follows in our wake like sharks (our grinning tutelary gods). Which one of us has killed an albatross? A plague among our blacks—Ophthalmia: blindness—& we have jettisoned the blind to no avail. It spreads, the terrifying sickness spreads. Its claws have scratched sight from the Capt.'s eyes & there is blindness in the fo’c’sle & we must sail 3 weeks before we come to port.” What port awaits us, Davy Jones’ or home? I’ve heard of slavers drifting, drifting, playthings of wind and storm and chance, their crews gone blind, the jungle hatred crawling up on deck. Thou Who Walked On Galilee “Deponent further sayeth The Bella J left the Guinea Coast with cargo of five hundred blacks and odd for the barracoons of Florida: “That there was hardly room ’tween-decks for half the sweltering cattle stowed spoon-fashion there; that some went mad of thirst and tore their flesh and sucked the blood: “That Crew and Captain lusted with the comeliest of the savage girls kept naked in the cabins; that there was one they called The Guinea Rose and they cast lots and fought to lie with her: “That when the Bo’s’n piped all hands, the flames spreading from starboard already were beyond control, the negroes howling and their chains entangled with the flames: “That the burning blacks could not be reached, that the Crew abandoned ship, leaving their shrieking negresses behind, that the Captain perished drunken with the wenches: “Further Deponent sayeth not.” Pilot Oh Pilot Me II Aye, lad, and I have seen those factories, Gambia, Rio Pongo, Calabar; have watched the artful mongos baiting traps of war wherein the victor and the vanquished Were caught as prizes for our barracoons. Have seen the nigger kings whose vanity and greed turned wild black hides of Fellatah, Mandingo, Ibo, Kru to gold for us. And there was one—King Anthracite we named him— fetish face beneath French parasols of brass and orange velvet, impudent mouth whose cups were carven skulls of enemies: He’d honor us with drum and feast and conjo and palm-oil-glistening wenches deft in love, and for tin crowns that shone with paste, red calico and German-silver trinkets Would have the drums talk war and send his warriors to burn the sleeping villages and kill the sick and old and lead the young in coffles to our factories. Twenty years a trader, twenty years, for there was wealth aplenty to be harvested from those black fields, and I’d be trading still but for the fevers melting down my bones. III Shuttles in the rocking loom of history, the dark ships move, the dark ships move, their bright ironical names like jests of kindness on a murderer’s mouth; plough through thrashing glister toward fata morgana’s lucent melting shore, weave toward New World littorals that are mirage and myth and actual shore. Voyage through death, voyage whose chartings are unlove. A charnel stench, effluvium of living death spreads outward from the hold, where the living and the dead, the horribly dying, lie interlocked, lie foul with blood and excrement. Deep in the festering hold thy father lies, the corpse of mercy rots with him, rats eat love’s rotten gelid eyes. But, oh, the living look at you with human eyes whose suffering accuses you, whose hatred reaches through the swill of dark to strike you like a leper’s claw. You cannot stare that hatred down or chain the fear that stalks the watches and breathes on you its fetid scorching breath; cannot kill the deep immortal human wish, the timeless will. “But for the storm that flung up barriers of wind and wave, The Amistad, señores, would have reached the port of Príncipe in two, three days at most; but for the storm we should have been prepared for what befell. Swift as the puma’s leap it came. There was that interval of moonless calm filled only with the water’s and the rigging’s usual sounds, then sudden movement, blows and snarling cries and they had fallen on us with machete and marlinspike. It was as though the very air, the night itself were striking us. Exhausted by the rigors of the storm, we were no match for them. Our men went down before the murderous Africans. Our loyal Celestino ran from below with gun and lantern and I saw, before the cane- knife’s wounding flash, Cinquez, that surly brute who calls himself a prince, directing, urging on the ghastly work. He hacked the poor mulatto down, and then he turned on me. The decks were slippery when daylight finally came. It sickens me to think of what I saw, of how these apes threw overboard the butchered bodies of our men, true Christians all, like so much jetsam. Enough, enough. The rest is quickly told: Cinquez was forced to spare the two of us you see to steer the ship to Africa, and we like phantoms doomed to rove the sea voyaged east by day and west by night, deceiving them, hoping for rescue, prisoners on our own vessel, till at length we drifted to the shores of this your land, America, where we were freed from our unspeakable misery. Now we demand, good sirs, the extradition of Cinquez and his accomplices to La Havana. And it distresses us to know there are so many here who seem inclined to justify the mutiny of these blacks. We find it paradoxical indeed that you whose wealth, whose tree of liberty are rooted in the labor of your slaves should suffer the august John Quincy Adams to speak with so much passion of the right of chattel slaves to kill their lawful masters and with his Roman rhetoric weave a hero’s garland for Cinquez. I tell you that we are determined to return to Cuba with our slaves and there see justice done. Cinquez— or let us say ‘the Prince’—Cinquez shall die.” The deep immortal human wish, the timeless will: Cinquez its deathless primaveral image, life that transfigures many lives. Voyage through death to life upon these shores.

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kjvpsalms · 4 years ago

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Lamentations 3

1 I am the man that hath seen affliction by the rod of His wrath.

2 He hath led me, and brought me into darkness, but not into light.

3 Surely against me is He turned; He turneth His hand against me all the day.

4 My flesh and my skin hath He made old; He hath broken my bones.

5 He hath builded against me, and compassed me with gall and travail.

6 He hath set me in dark places, as they that be dead of old.

7 He hath hedged me about, that I cannot get out: He hath made my chain heavy.

8 Also when I cry and shout, He shutteth out my prayer.

9 He hath enclosed my ways with hewn stone, He hath made my paths crooked.

10 He was unto me as a bear lying in wait, and as a lion in secret places.

11 He hath turned aside my ways, and pulled me in pieces: He hath made me desolate.

12 He hath bent His bow, and set me as a mark for the arrow.

13 He hath caused the arrows of His quiver to enter into my reins.

14 I was a derision to all my people; and their song all the day.

15 He hath filled me with bitterness, He hath made me drunken with wormwood.

16 He hath also broken my teeth with gravel stones, He hath covered me with ashes.

17 And Thou hast removed my soul far off from peace: I forgot prosperity.

18 And I said, “My strength and my hope is perished from the LORD”:

19 Remembering mine affliction and my misery, the wormwood and the gall.

20 My soul hath them still in remembrance, and is humbled in me.

21 This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope.

22 It is of the LORD’s mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not.

23 They are new every morning: great is Thy faithfulness.

24 “The LORD is my portion,” saith my soul; “therefore I will hope in Him.”

25 The LORD is good unto them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeketh Him.

26 It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD.

27 It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth.

28 He sitteth alone and keepeth silence, because He hath borne it upon him.

29 He putteth his mouth in the dust; if so be there may be hope.

30 He giveth his cheek to him that smiteth him: he is filled full with reproach.

31 For the Lord will not cast off for ever:

32 But though He cause grief, yet will He have compassion according to the multitude of His mercies.

33 For He doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men.

34 To crush under His feet all the prisoners of the earth,

35 To turn aside the right of a man before the face of the most High,

36 To subvert a man in his cause, the Lord approveth not.

37 Who is he that saith, and it cometh to pass, when the Lord commandeth it not?

38 Out of the moth of the most High proceedeth not evil and good?

39 Wherefore doth a living man complain, a man for the punishment of his sins?

40 Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the LORD.

41 Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens.

42 We have transgressed and have rebelled: Thou hast not pardoned.

43 Thou hast covered with anger, and persecuted us: Thou hast slain, Thou hast not pitied.

44 Thou hast covered Thyself with a cloud, that our prayer should not pass through.

45 Thou hast made us as the offscouring and refuse in the midst of the people.

46 All our enemies have opened their mouths against us.

47 Fear and a snare is come upon us, desolation and destruction.

48 Mine eye runneth down with rivers of water for the destruction of the daughter of my people.

49 Mine eye trickleth down, and ceaseth not, without any intermission,

50 Till the LORD look down, and behold from heaven.

51 Mine eye affecteth mine heart because of all the daughters of my city.

52 Mine enemies chased me sore, like a bird, without cause.

53 They have cut off my life in the dungeon, and cast a stone upon me.

54 Waters flowed over mine head; then I said, “I am cut off.”

55 I called upon Thy Name, O LORD, out of the low dungeon.

56 Thou hast heard my voice, hide not Thine ear at my breathing, at my cry.

57 Thou drewest near in the day that I called upon Thee: Thou saidst, “Fear not.”

58 O Lord, Thou hast pleaded the causes of my soul; Thou hast redeemed my life.

59 O LORD, Thou hast seen my wrong: judge Thou my cause.

60 Thou hast seen all their vengeance and all their imaginations against me.

61 Thou hast heard their reproach, O LORD, and all their imaginations against me;

62 The lips of those that rose up against me, and their device against me all the day.

63 Behold their sitting down, and their rising up; I am their music.

64 Render unto them a recompense, O LORD, according to the work of their hands.

65 Give them sorrow of heart, Thy curse unto them.

66 Persecute and destroy them in anger from under the heavens of the LORD.

#Lamentations #Lamentations 3 #Bible #God #Scripture #Bible Song

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thatsnotcanonpodcasts · 4 years ago

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The Mask Of Anarchy by Percy Bysshe Shelley read by Zane C Weber

The Mask Of Anarchy by Percy Bysshe Shelley

As I lay asleep in Italy

There came a voice from over the Sea,

And with great power it forth led me

To walk in the visions of Poesy.

I met Murder on the way -

He had a mask like Castlereagh -

Very smooth he looked, yet grim;

Seven blood-hounds followed him:

All were fat; and well they might

Be in admirable plight,

For one by one, and two by two,

He tossed them human hearts to chew

Which from his wide cloak he drew.

Next came Fraud, and he had on,

Like Eldon, an ermined gown;

His big tears, for he wept well,

Turned to mill-stones as they fell.

And the little children, who

Round his feet played to and fro,

Thinking every tear a gem,

Had their brains knocked out by them.

Clothed with the Bible, as with light,

And the shadows of the night,

Like Sidmouth, next, Hypocrisy

On a crocodile rode by.

And many more Destructions played

In this ghastly masquerade,

All disguised, even to the eyes,

Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.

Last came Anarchy: he rode

On a white horse, splashed with blood;

He was pale even to the lips,

Like Death in the Apocalypse.

And he wore a kingly crown;

And in his grasp a sceptre shone;

On his brow this mark I saw -

'I AM GOD, AND KING, AND LAW!'

10.

With a pace stately and fast,

Over English land he passed,

Trampling to a mire of blood

The adoring multitude.

11.

And a mighty troop around,

With their trampling shook the ground,

Waving each a bloody sword,

For the service of their Lord.

12.

And with glorious triumph, they

Rode through England proud and gay,

Drunk as with intoxication

Of the wine of desolation.

13.

O'er fields and towns, from sea to sea,

Passed the Pageant swift and free,

Tearing up, and trampling down;

Till they came to London town.

14.

And each dweller, panic-stricken,

Felt his heart with terror sicken

Hearing the tempestuous cry

Of the triumph of Anarchy.

15.

For with pomp to meet him came,

Clothed in arms like blood and flame,

The hired murderers, who did sing

'Thou art God, and Law, and King.

16.

'We have waited, weak and lone

For thy coming, Mighty One!

Our purses are empty, our swords are cold,

Give us glory, and blood, and gold.'

17.

Lawyers and priests, a motley crowd,

To the earth their pale brows bowed;

Like a bad prayer not over loud,

Whispering - 'Thou art Law and God.' -

18.

Then all cried with one accord,

'Thou art King, and God, and Lord;

Anarchy, to thee we bow,

Be thy name made holy now!'

19.

And Anarchy, the Skeleton,

Bowed and grinned to every one,

As well as if his education

Had cost ten millions to the nation.

20.

For he knew the Palaces

Of our Kings were rightly his;

His the sceptre, crown, and globe,

And the gold-inwoven robe.

21.

So he sent his slaves before

To seize upon the Bank and Tower,

And was proceeding with intent

To meet his pensioned Parliament

22.

When one fled past, a maniac maid,

And her name was Hope, she said:

But she looked more like Despair,

And she cried out in the air:

23.

'My father Time is weak and gray

With waiting for a better day;

See how idiot-like he stands,

Fumbling with his palsied hands!

24.

'He has had child after child,

And the dust of death is piled

Over every one but me -

Misery, oh, Misery!'

25.

Then she lay down in the street,

Right before the horses' feet,

Expecting, with a patient eye,

Murder, Fraud, and Anarchy.

26.

When between her and her foes

A mist, a light, an image rose,

Small at first, and weak, and frail

Like the vapour of a vale:

27.

Till as clouds grow on the blast,

Like tower-crowned giants striding fast,

And glare with lightnings as they fly,

And speak in thunder to the sky,

28.

It grew - a Shape arrayed in mail

Brighter than the viper's scale,

And upborne on wings whose grain

Was as the light of sunny rain.

29.

On its helm, seen far away,

A planet, like the Morning's, lay;

And those plumes its light rained through

Like a shower of crimson dew.

30.

With step as soft as wind it passed

O'er the heads of men - so fast

That they knew the presence there,

And looked, - but all was empty air.

31.

As flowers beneath May's footstep waken,

As stars from Night's loose hair are shaken,

As waves arise when loud winds call,

Thoughts sprung where'er that step did fall.

32.

And the prostrate multitude

Looked - and ankle-deep in blood,

Hope, that maiden most serene,

Was walking with a quiet mien:

33.

And Anarchy, the ghastly birth,

Lay dead earth upon the earth;

The Horse of Death tameless as wind

Fled, and with his hoofs did grind

To dust the murderers thronged behind.

34.

A rushing light of clouds and splendour,

A sense awakening and yet tender

Was heard and felt - and at its close

These words of joy and fear arose

35.

As if their own indignant Earth

Which gave the sons of England birth

Had felt their blood upon her brow,

And shuddering with a mother's throe

36.

Had turned every drop of blood

By which her face had been bedewed

To an accent unwithstood, -

As if her heart had cried aloud:

37.

'Men of England, heirs of Glory,

Heroes of unwritten story,

Nurslings of one mighty Mother,

Hopes of her, and one another;

38.

'Rise like Lions after slumber

In unvanquishable number,

Shake your chains to earth like dew

Which in sleep had fallen on you -

Ye are many - they are few.

39.

'What is Freedom? - ye can tell

That which slavery is, too well -

For its very name has grown

To an echo of your own.

40.

''Tis to work and have such pay

As just keeps life from day to day

In your limbs, as in a cell

For the tyrants' use to dwell,

41.

'So that ye for them are made

Loom, and plough, and sword, and spade,

With or without your own will bent

To their defence and nourishment.

42.

''Tis to see your children weak

With their mothers pine and peak,

When the winter winds are bleak, -

They are dying whilst I speak.

43.

''Tis to hunger for such diet

As the rich man in his riot

Casts to the fat dogs that lie

Surfeiting beneath his eye;

44.

''Tis to let the Ghost of Gold

Take from Toil a thousandfold

More than e'er its substance could

In the tyrannies of old.

45.

'Paper coin - that forgery

Of the title-deeds, which ye

Hold to something of the worth

Of the inheritance of Earth.

46.

''Tis to be a slave in soul

And to hold no strong control

Over your own wills, but be

All that others make of ye.

47.

'And at length when ye complain

With a murmur weak and vain

'Tis to see the Tyrant's crew

Ride over your wives and you

Blood is on the grass like dew.

48.

'Then it is to feel revenge

Fiercely thirsting to exchange

Blood for blood - and wrong for wrong -

Do not thus when ye are strong.

49.

'Birds find rest, in narrow nest

When weary of their winged quest;

Beasts find fare, in woody lair

When storm and snow are in the air.

50.

'Asses, swine, have litter spread

And with fitting food are fed;

All things have a home but one -

Thou, Oh, Englishman, hast none!

51.

'This is Slavery - savage men,

Or wild beasts within a den

Would endure not as ye do -

But such ills they never knew.

52.

'What art thou Freedom? O! could slaves

Answer from their living graves

This demand - tyrants would flee

Like a dream's dim imagery:

53.

'Thou art not, as impostors say,

A shadow soon to pass away,

A superstition, and a name

Echoing from the cave of Fame.

54.

'For the labourer thou art bread,

And a comely table spread

From his daily labour come

In a neat and happy home.

55.

Thou art clothes, and fire, and food

For the trampled multitude -

No - in countries that are free

Such starvation cannot be

As in England now we see.

56.

'To the rich thou art a check,

When his foot is on the neck

Of his victim, thou dost make

That he treads upon a snake.

57.

Thou art Justice - ne'er for gold

May thy righteous laws be sold

As laws are in England - thou

Shield'st alike the high and low.

58.

'Thou art Wisdom - Freemen never

Dream that God will damn for ever

All who think those things untrue

Of which Priests make such ado.

59.

'Thou art Peace - never by thee

Would blood and treasure wasted be

As tyrants wasted them, when all

Leagued to quench thy flame in Gaul.

60.

'What if English toil and blood

Was poured forth, even as a flood?

It availed, Oh, Liberty,

To dim, but not extinguish thee.

61.

'Thou art Love - the rich have kissed

Thy feet, and like him following Christ,

Give their substance to the free

And through the rough world follow thee,

62.

'Or turn their wealth to arms, and make

War for thy beloved sake

On wealth, and war, and fraud - whence they

Drew the power which is their prey.

63.

'Science, Poetry, and Thought

Are thy lamps; they make the lot

Of the dwellers in a cot

So serene, they curse it not.

64.

'Spirit, Patience, Gentleness,

All that can adorn and bless

Art thou - let deeds, not words, express

Thine exceeding loveliness.

65.

'Let a great Assembly be

Of the fearless and the free

On some spot of English ground

Where the plains stretch wide around.

66.

'Let the blue sky overhead,

The green earth on which ye tread,

All that must eternal be

Witness the solemnity.

67.

'From the corners uttermost

Of the bounds of English coast;

From every hut, village, and town

Where those who live and suffer moan

For others' misery or their own,

68.

'From the workhouse and the prison

Where pale as corpses newly risen,

Women, children, young and old

Groan for pain, and weep for cold -

69.

'From the haunts of daily life

Where is waged the daily strife

With common wants and common cares

Which sows the human heart with tares -

70.

'Lastly from the palaces

Where the murmur of distress

Echoes, like the distant sound

Of a wind alive around

71.

'Those prison halls of wealth and fashion,

Where some few feel such compassion

For those who groan, and toil, and wail

As must make their brethren pale -

72.

'Ye who suffer woes untold,

Or to feel, or to behold

Your lost country bought and sold

With a price of blood and gold -

73.

'Let a vast assembly be,

And with great solemnity

Declare with measured words that ye

Are, as God has made ye, free -

74.

'Be your strong and simple words

Keen to wound as sharpened swords,

And wide as targes let them be,

With their shade to cover ye.

75.

'Let the tyrants pour around

With a quick and startling sound,

Like the loosening of a sea,

Troops of armed emblazonry.

76.

'Let the charged artillery drive

Till the dead air seems alive

With the clash of clanging wheels,

And the tramp of horses' heels.

77.

'Let the fixed bayonet

Gleam with sharp desire to wet

Its bright point in English blood

Looking keen as one for food.

78.

Let the horsemen's scimitars

Wheel and flash, like sphereless stars

Thirsting to eclipse their burning

In a sea of death and mourning.

79.

'Stand ye calm and resolute,

Like a forest close and mute,

With folded arms and looks which are

Weapons of unvanquished war,

80.

'And let Panic, who outspeeds

The career of armed steeds

Pass, a disregarded shade

Through your phalanx undismayed.

81.

'Let the laws of your own land,

Good or ill, between ye stand

Hand to hand, and foot to foot,

Arbiters of the dispute,

82.

'The old laws of England - they

Whose reverend heads with age are gray,

Children of a wiser day;

And whose solemn voice must be

Thine own echo - Liberty!

83.

��'On those who first should violate

Such sacred heralds in their state

Rest the blood that must ensue,

And it will not rest on you.

84.

'And if then the tyrants dare

Let them ride among you there,

Slash, and stab, and maim, and hew, -

What they like, that let them do.

85.

'With folded arms and steady eyes,

And little fear, and less surprise,

Look upon them as they slay

Till their rage has died away.

86.

Then they will return with shame

To the place from which they came,

And the blood thus shed will speak

In hot blushes on their cheek.

87.

'Every woman in the land

Will point at them as they stand -

They will hardly dare to greet

Their acquaintance in the street.

88.

'And the bold, true warriors

Who have hugged Danger in wars

Will turn to those who would be free,

Ashamed of such base company.

89.

'And that slaughter to the Nation

Shall steam up like inspiration,

Eloquent, oracular;

A volcano heard afar.

90.

'And these words shall then become

Like Oppression's thundered doom

Ringing through each heart and brain,

Heard again - again - again -

91.

'Rise like Lions after slumber

In unvanquishable number -

Shake your chains to earth like dew

Which in sleep had fallen on you -

Ye are many - they are few.'

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commissarjacobin · 5 years ago

Text

Some Bible quotes that I found interesting from a Leftist perspective.

Prepare for a long one! And these are all in chronological order by the way, not listed by importance or relevance -

Quotes from Isaiah, 40-62:

All nations before him are as nothing; and they are counted to him less than nothing, and vanity.

To whom then will ye liken God? or what likeness will ye compare unto him?

The workman melteth a graven image, and the goldsmith spreadeth it over with gold, and casteth silver chains.

He that is so impoverished that he hath no oblation chooseth a tree that will not rot; he seeketh unto him a cunning workman to prepare a graven image, that shall not be moved.

They helped every one his neighbour; and every one said to his brother, Be of good courage.

So the carpenter encouraged the goldsmith, and he that smootheth with the hammer him that smote the anvil, saying, It is ready for the sodering: and he fastened it with nails, that it should not be moved.

Hear, ye deaf; and look, ye blind, that ye may see.

Who is blind, but my servant? or deaf, as my messenger that I sent? who is blind as he that is perfect, and blind as the Lord's servant?

Seeing many things, but thou observest not; opening the ears, but he heareth not.

The Lord is well pleased for his righteousness' sake; he will magnify the law, and make it honourable.

But this is a people robbed and spoiled; they are all of them snared in holes, and they are hid in prison houses: they are for a prey, and none delivereth; for a spoil, and none saith, Restore.

Who among you will give ear to this? who will hearken and hear for the time to come?

The Lord shall go forth as a mighty man, he shall stir up jealousy like a man of war: he shall cry, yea, roar; he shall prevail against his enemies.

I have long time holden my peace; I have been still, and refrained myself: now will I cry like a travailing woman; I will destroy and devour at once.

I will make waste mountains and hills, and dry up all their herbs; and I will make the rivers islands, and I will dry up the pools.

And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them

Remember ye not the former things, neither consider the things of old.

Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.

The beast of the field shall honour me, the dragons and the owls: because I give waters in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert, to give drink to my people, my chosen.

Behold, all his fellows shall be ashamed: and the workmen, they are of men: let them all be gathered together, let them stand up; yet they shall fear, and they shall be ashamed together.

Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.

His watchmen are blind: they are all ignorant, they are all dumb dogs, they cannot bark; sleeping, lying down, loving to slumber.

Yea, they are greedy dogs which can never have enough, and they are shepherds that cannot understand: they all look to their own way, every one for his gain, from his quarter.

Come ye, say they, I will fetch wine, and we will fill ourselves with strong drink; and to morrow shall be as this day, and much more abundant.

For the iniquity of his covetousness was I wroth, and smote him: I hid me, and was wroth, and he went on frowardly in the way of his heart.

But the wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked.

Yet on the day of your fasting, you do as you please and exploit all your workers. Your fasting ends in quarreling and strife, and in striking each other with wicked fists.

Is not this the fast that I have chosen? to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke?

Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house? when thou seest the naked, that thou cover him; and that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh?

Then shall thy light break forth as the morning, and thine health shall spring forth speedily: and thy righteousness shall go before thee; the glory of the Lord shall be thy reward.

Then shalt thou call, and the Lord shall answer; thou shalt cry, and he shall say, Here I am. If thou take away from the midst of thee the yoke, the putting forth of the finger, and speaking vanity;

And if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul; then shall thy light rise in obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noon day:

And the Lord shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not.

And they that shall be of thee shall build the old waste places: thou shalt raise up the foundations of many generations; and thou shalt be called, The repairer of the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in.

Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear:

But your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, that he will not hear.

For your hands are defiled with blood, and your fingers with iniquity; your lips have spoken lies, your tongue hath muttered perverseness.

None calleth for justice, nor any pleadeth for truth: they trust in vanity, and speak lies; they conceive mischief, and bring forth iniquity.

They hatch cockatrice' eggs, and weave the spider's web: he that eateth of their eggs dieth, and that which is crushed breaketh out into a viper.

Their webs shall not become garments, neither shall they cover themselves with their works: their works are works of iniquity, and the act of violence is in their hands.

Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed innocent blood: their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; wasting and destruction are in their paths.

The way of peace they know not; and there is no judgment in their goings: they have made them crooked paths: whosoever goeth therein shall not know peace.

Therefore is judgment far from us, neither doth justice overtake us: we wait for light, but behold obscurity; for brightness, but we walk in darkness.

According to their deeds, accordingly he will repay, fury to his adversaries, recompence to his enemies; to the islands he will repay recompence.

And the sons of strangers shall build up thy walls, and their kings shall minister unto thee: for in my wrath I smote thee, but in my favour have I had mercy on thee.

Therefore thy gates shall be open continually; they shall not be shut day nor night; that men may bring unto thee the forces of the Gentiles, and that their kings may be brought.

For the nation and kingdom that will not serve thee shall perish; yea, those nations shall be utterly wasted.

For brass I will bring gold, and for iron I will bring silver, and for wood brass, and for stones iron: I will also make thy officers peace, and thine exactors righteousness.

Violence shall no more be heard in thy land, wasting nor destruction within thy borders; but thou shalt call thy walls Salvation, and thy gates Praise.

The sun shall be no more thy light by day; neither for brightness shall the moon give light unto thee: but the Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God thy glory.

Thy sun shall no more go down; neither shall thy moon withdraw itself: for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended.

Thy people also shall be all righteous: they shall inherit the land for ever, the branch of my planting, the work of my hands, that I may be glorified.

A little one shall become a thousand, and a small one a strong nation: I the Lord will hasten it in his time.

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;

And they shall build the old wastes, they shall raise up the former desolations, and they shall repair the waste cities, the desolations of many generations.

And strangers shall stand and feed your flocks, and the sons of the alien shall be your plowmen and your vinedressers.

But ye shall be named the Priests of the Lord: men shall call you the Ministers of our God: ye shall eat the riches of the Gentiles, and in their glory shall ye boast yourselves.

For Zion's sake will I not hold my peace, and for Jerusalem's sake I will not rest, until the righteousness thereof go forth as brightness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp that burneth.

I have set watchmen upon thy walls, O Jerusalem, which shall never hold their peace day nor night: ye that make mention of the Lord, keep not silence,

And give him no rest, till he establish, and till he make Jerusalem a praise in the earth.

The Lord hath sworn by his right hand, and by the arm of his strength, Surely I will no more give thy corn to be meat for thine enemies; and the sons of the stranger shall not drink thy wine, for the which thou hast laboured:

But they that have gathered it shall eat it, and praise the Lord; and they that have brought it together shall drink it in the courts of my holiness.

Go through, go through the gates; prepare ye the way of the people; cast up, cast up the highway; gather out the stones; lift up a standard for the people.

Behold, the Lord hath proclaimed unto the end of the world, Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy salvation cometh; behold, his reward is with him, and his work before him.

And they shall call them, The holy people, The redeemed of the Lord: and thou shalt be called, Sought out, A city not forsaken.

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gailynovelry · 5 years ago

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Mary Robinson - The Maniac

Ah! what art thou, whose eye-balls roll Like Heralds of the wand'ring soul, While down thy cheek the scalding torrents flow? Why does that agonizing shriek The mind's unpitied anguish speak? O tell me, thing forlorn! and let me share thy woe. Why dost thou rend thy matted hair, And beat thy burning bosom bare? Why is thy lip so parch'd, thy groan so deep? Why dost thou fly from cheerful light, And seek in caverns mid-day night, And cherish thoughts untold, and banish gentle sleep? Why dost thou from thy scanty bed Tear the rude straw to crown thy head, And nod with ghastly smile, and wildly sing? While down thy pale distorted face The crystal drops each other chase, As though thy brain were drown'd in one eternal spring? Why dost thou climb yon craggy steep, That frowns upon the clamorous deep, And howl, responsive to the waves below? Or on the margin of the rock Thy Sovereign Orb exulting mock, And waste the freezing night in pacing to and fro? Why dost thou strip the fairest bow'rs. To dress thy scowling brow with flow'rs. And fling thy tatter'd garment to the wind? Why madly dart from cave to cave, Now laugh and sing, then weep and rave. And round thy naked limbs fantastic fragments bind? Why dost thou drink the midnight dew, Slow trickling from the baneful yew, Stretched on a pallet of sepulchral stone; While, in her solitary tower, The Minstrel of the witching hour Sits half congeal'd with fear, to hear thy dismal moan? Thy form upon the cold earth cast. Now grown familiar with the blast. Defies the biting frost and scorching sun: All Seasons are alike to thee; Thy sense, unchain'd by Destiny, Resists, with dauntless pride, all miseries but one! Fix not thy steadfast gaze on me, Shrunk atom of mortality! Nor freeze my blood with thy distracted groan; Ah! quickly turn those eyes away, They fill my soul with dire dismay, For dead and dark they seem, and almost chill'd to stone! Yet, if thy scattered senses stray Where Reason scorns to lend a ray, Or if Despair supreme usurps her throne. Oh! let me all thy sorrows know; With thine my mingling tear shall flow, And I will share thy pangs, and make thy griefs my own. Hath Love unlock'd thy feeling breast, And stol'n from thence the balm of rest? Then far away on purple pinions borne. Left only keen regret behind. To tear with poison’d fangs thy mind, While barb'rous Mem'ry lives, and bids thee hopeless mourn? Does Fancy to thy straining arms Give the false Nymph in all her charms, And with her airy voice beguile thee so, That Sorrow seems to pass away, Till the blithe harbinger of day Awakes thee from thy dream, and yields thee back to woe? Say, have the bonds of Friendship fail’d, Or jealous pangs thy mind assail’d; While black Ingratitude, with ranc'rous tooth, Pierc'd the fine fibres of thy heart. And fest'ring every sensate part, Dim'd with contagious breath the crimson glow of youth? Or has stern Fate, with ruthless hand, Dash’d on some wild untrodden strand Thy little bark, with all thy fortunes fraught; While thou didst watch the stormy night Upon some bleak rock's fearful height. Till thy hot brain consumed with desolating thought? Ah! wretch forlorn, perchance thy breast, By the cold fangs of Avarice press'd. Grew hard and torpid by her touch profane; Till Famine pinch'd thee to the bone, And mental torture made thee own That thing the most accurs'd, who drags her endless chain. Or say, does flush'd Ambition's wing Around thy fev'rish temples fling Dire incense, smoking from the ensanguin'd plain, That, drain'd from bleeding warriors' hearts. Swift to thy shatter'd sense imparts The victor's savage joy, that thrills through ev'ry vein? Does not the murky gloom of night Give to thy view some murderous sprite, Whose poniard gleams long thy cell forlorn; And when the sun expands his ray, Dost thou not shun the jocund day, And mutter curses deep, and hate the ruddy morn? And yet the morn on rosy wing Could once to thee its rapture bring, And Mirth’s enlivening song delight thing ear; While Hope thine eye-lids could unclose From the sweet slumbers of repose, To tell thee Love’s gay throng of tender joys were near. Or has though stung with poignant smart The orphan’s and the widow’s heart, And plunged them in cold Poverty’s abyss; While Conscience, like a vulture, stole To feel upon thy tortured soul, And tear each barbarous sense from transitory bliss? Or has though seen some gentle maid, By thy deluding voice betray’d, Fade like a flower, slow withering with remorse? And didst though then refuse to save Thy victim from an early grave, Till at they feet she lay a pale and ghastly corse? Oh! Tell me, tell me all thy pain; Pour to mine ear thy frenzied strain, And I will share thy pangs and soothe thy pain. Poor maniac! I will dry thy tears, And bathe thy wounds, and calm thy fears, And with soft Pity’s balm enchant thee to repose.

Sorry to spam you with this long ol’ poem, guys, it’s just so hard to find the text of it online, and I needed a version of it to link to a personal project of mine.

#poetry #mary robinson #perdita #public doman #i hope this is fine #i don't think the dead can sue me for copyright infringement #women writers #this lady #is pretty cool

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thatlesbiannudistcult-stories · 5 years ago

Text

Finding Goddess (Chapter 17)

Carol had nothing to do. The house was clean, her call to Celeste was aborted, her friends were likely still at work, and after surfing a few channels on the TV, the nudist remembered that there was absolutely nothing worth watching at this hour. So she did the only thing imaginable that would be a worthwhile use of her time: she cracked open the Scripture and continued reading.

***

From the Ether came a rippling, and through a hole torn from black talons of malice came She of the Bloodless Flesh and the Unripened Eye, the Wings Chained, and the Vulva Unopened. Notrath of the Abyssal Gale and Empress of Demons had emerged. Driven by a lust and a greed and a want that left her imprisoned in the blackest recesses of the Gods Realm, she tore her self free of her bindings, and it was in her struggles that she would chance upon Zenriah's world and all that She had made. And it was beautiful. More beautiful than anything she had ever seen before in all the cosmos. And when her eyes fell upon the Goddess, Notrath's heart erupted in a blaze of lustful hellfire.

And she decreed: "Zenriah, Fair Zenriah, Mistress of the All-Light, and Bringer of Love and Life! By Your own hand and Your own will, You have cultivated a garden of endless beauty in all Creation. I stand here in awe of Your artistry, the envy of gods and mortals alike! But to keep this garden to Yourself...to share not these seas and these hills and these pillars and these stars and these darlings gathered all round You, each a flicker of Your brilliance...that would be a sin like no other! Will You not share it all with another? Will You not share Your creation with me? A Goddess as lovely as Thee, and a garden as fertile as this, is fit only for one as equally radiant. Do You not see her standing before Your eyes?"

But Zenriah would not accept Notrath's hand, for She saw right through the demoness' flattery and for what she was. "Take thy form away from this domain, fair demoness! Zenriah has found she who is worthy of Her, and it is not, was not, and shall not ever be you. Rain the seas of your wants, raise the mountains of your desire, shine the stars of your illumination, and lay with the darlings of your mold. But prithee leave this domain and disturb it no more with your presence, for my dearests await and I pine for her in turn."

But Notrath would not accept Zenriah's words in either fury or in mercy, nor would she be denied her prize. "Then name she who has proven her self worthy of your heart, and I shall prove her fraudulence!"

But it was not the Goddess who answered the demoness' challenge, but Prevandora, Firstmade, Firstborn, and Firstbirthed of Zenriah's wives. "My Love has spoken and given thee Her piece. Leave Us now to Our hearts and to Our courts, and trample not the lilies wherever after you walk."

So Notrath turned her blazing eyes upon her, and in that moment, Prevandora learned Fear. Then she wrapped the woman in her claws, and in that moment, Prevandora learned Pain. Then she rent her talons and scorched her breath, and in that moment, Prevandora learned Death. Then she held her lifeless and emblazoned trophy and lit the world aflame in its unholy light, and in that moment, Fear, Pain, and Death were learnt to all Womankind. And in great horror they trembled!

And so passed Prevandora, First of Zenriah's wives.

Zenriah let loose a howl of pain, the loss of Her beloved rending a quickening gash in Her heart from which She would never heal and spilling blood that She would never re-drink. Prevandora was gone! Her dear wife and Her first love was gone! And never again would the Goddess feel the holy touch that Prevandora gave her for more than a thousand and one times before.

And all around Her, Her endless wives, all wives and some sisters and many daughters of Prevandora, wept with Her, for the Goddess' grief was their grief, for Her loss was their loss, for Her wife was their wife, and her touch was a touch none of them would ever feel or taste or give birth to ever again. And from amidst Their tears, the demoness beamed victoriously.

"Was that not Your chosen, O Lovely Zenriah? Such a feeble thing would never have survived Your kiss. Come, take my hand, O Fair Goddess. Take my hand and I will give You a thousand suns worthy of love. Shed no more tears, Fair Goddess, for this is a happy moment! Your one true love has finally come!"

But the Goddess did not just take Notrath's hand. She seized it in Her own and upon smoldering the demoness with a glare hewn from the Forges of Vesuvius, She hurled the murderess from out Her palace, from out Her city, from out Her queendom, and from out Her world. And the Goddess did decree: "Zenriah needs no one true love! Zenriah needs thousands upon thousands of true loves, each as precious as the last, and thousands upon thousands of true loves are needed by they in turn. In taking from Us but a single true love, thou shalt now feel naught but Our true wrath forevermore!"

And on that night, Womankind learned War.

...

In a storm of talons and a gnashing of teeth, the beasts descended upon Lilitia. Though she tore many asunder with her sword and her shield, their numbers were too great and their strength was too vast.

And so passed Lilitia, Second of Zenriah's wives.

...

Even as they whipped her, tore her fair skin from her back, spilt her crimson upon the soil, and stole the cries from her daughters' mouths, Ellines refused to budge but an inch lest a hair of those she held dear be harmed by the abominations that would dare feast upon their sacred flesh.

And so passed Ellines, Fifth of Zenriah's wives.

...

Cora and Samai battled on, swinging sword and axe and spear at the writhing masses of tentacles descending upon them. They hewn many 'til they were stained scarlet and all the world was but a cloud of blood in their eyes. But alas, there were many, and they were only two.

And so passed Cora and Samai, Eighth and Ninth of Zenriah's wives.

...

The pillars cracked and the pillars crumbled. And still Alta held firm, keeping the city aloft in her arms while her sisters and her wives and her daughters fled its streets and its halls. Even as it crushed her bones, even as it sank her form, Alta held on! Never would she let it go! Never would she let it fall! Not until every soul she had ever loved was out and free and safe from the demoness' hungered minions! Only once the last fair maiden was gone did she relent. Atlantis crumbled and fell into the sea, and it took with it both Notrath's vile horde and Alta herself. The water burned red with blood. She did not rise again.

And so passed Alta, Twelfth of Zenriah's wives.

...

The Goddess' heart did wane as She looked upon Her world, Her garden that She had melded and cultivated for millennia with a careful hand. Fires burned in Her forests, cities crumbled to dust, and the earth glowed crimson with the spilled blood of Her beloveds! Every wail of death, every cry of pain, every howl of sorrow was yet another cold arrow in Her heart. And the burden of Her wounds proved too painful to bear.

With the death of Her Twelfth and Final Firstborn, the Goddess feared She would not go on for much longer. The urge to cast Her self into the sea and never rise again grew stronger. Notrath and her demons were too strong for Zenriah's wives. And though Zenriah knew She would one day prevail, She feared none of Her dearests would survive. And what life would be worth living if She could not share it with those whom She loved?

So Zenriah cast aside Her spear, laid dawn Her shield, and She set forth, away from Earth and its sun and its beautiful creatures that She had created and loved with every glimmer of Her being, and faced Her enemy. And the Goddess spread Her arms and spread Her legs and presented Her self to the Empress of Demons and said: "Fair Notrath, my heart has finally swayed! Thou hast proven thy worthiness of mine hand, and I have come to give it! Take it and all of me if thou wilt. Take my eyes and my tongue and my breasts and my arm and my vulva and my asset and do with them what you shall. For they and my heart...now belongs to thee!"

The demoness was struck by Her offer and for but a moment she was doubtful of Her intent. But she could not withhold her desire for long, for Zenriah continued to captivate her in all the years that they fought. And so Notrath gave into her lust and seized the Goddess in her hands!.

She lolled her tongue into the Goddess' lips. She kneaded Her breasts, marveled at the warmth she felt passing through her talons, and tasted Her nipples with her forked tongue, sliding it around the areolas brilliantly. And the Goddess returned her favor. She kissed Notrath. She tasted Notrath. She lapped at her breasts, pulled them into Her mouth, suckled her erect teets. And the demoness cried out in ecstasy, for at last she had what she and so many gods had sought after. She had the Goddess!

...

Zenriah burst and Zenriah came. She tickled and She tingled. She kissed and She licked until there was no organ of Notrath that She had not touched and tasted. She drank the sweet honeydew of her lover's flower and danced her nipples between Her fingers and Her teeth. But Zenriah did not smile. She did not cheer and She did not sing. For while She flickered with heat, She did not burn with sunfire. She bathed in seas of starlight, but She did not swim. She fed and She drank, but she still hungered and thirsted. She spun and She twirled, but She did not dance.

But She did weep. She wept as She rolled through the emptiness of space, bereft of the fertile soil beneath Her feet. She wept as Her eyes gazed upon the unending void of darkness, bereft of the light of the joyous sun. She wept as the demoness' tongue slithered betwixt Her lips, for it tasted naught like the tongues of Her beloved, whom She would never taste again.

The fissure in Zenriah's heart spread open, wider even than Her legs as Notrath thrust her self between them. The same fissure that nearly cracked Her in two in the time before time, when she felt naught but the vast emptiness and the deep yearning. For even in Her pleasure, the Goddess was once again deprived of the love She long hungered for. She was isolated from all that She built, from all that She made, from all that She cherished.

And so the Goddess wept. And She would never stop weeping. Not as long as she was alone, separate from the one, the only thing She would ever love in all the Universe.

Womankind.

***

DNK-DNK-DNK!

Carol's eyes fluttered open as the hard rapping noise banged on her ears. It roused her as if from a dream, but she wasn't asleep. At least, she didn't think she was. She didn't remember falling asleep. The last thing she recalled doing was sitting down on her couch, cracking open her book, reading it and...

DNK-DNK-DNK!

The door rapped again, a little harder this time. Deciding now was not the time to jog her memory, Carol approached it and poked her eye through the peephole to see who wanted to see her so badly. For some reason, she couldn't make out who it was; her vision seemed oddly blurry, like she was seeing the world through a foggy fishbowl. "Wh-who is it?" she stammered, unnerved by how crackled her voice sounded. If she didn't know any better, she swore she was about to cry any minute now.

"It's us, Carol," said the cheerful voice of Henrietta. "Me and Katy! You going to let us in already or what?"

Carol blinked in confusion. Henri and Katy are here? Does...does that mean the priestess was...no, it couldn't be...

Wordlessly, she unlocked and opened the door, and was nearly bowled over by about a hundred pounds of gleeful girly giddiness. "Mommy!" Katherine squealed as she wrapped her arms around the older woman in a bear hug that was honestly tighter than a girl her size had any right to give.

Henrietta followed shortly after, laughing in amusement at the sight. "Ha, looks like she really missed you! Are you sure you don't want to adopt...Carol? Carol, honey? Is something wrong?"

After playfully nuzzling Carol's breasts a bit, Katherine also sensed something off. "Mommy? Mommy, you're crying! What's the matter?"

"Crying?" said Carol, confused. "Wh-what do you mean? I-I'm not..."

She touched her face. Her eyes were wet and puffy. Her cheeks felt positively soaked. Her face was starting to crinkle up, and then...

Henrietta and Katherine wasted no time guiding their mutual lover to the couch, gently sitting her down on the cushion and hugging her as she wept. They caressed her hair, kissed her forehead, and whispered sweet sounds of "Shhhh" and "It's okay" into her ears. Katy even rocked Carol back and forth like a mother would to an upset child. All the while, Carol simply cried, unable to quell the growing sense of emptiness welling up inside her, a feeling she hadn't experienced since...since...her husband died!

But she knew she wasn't grieving over her dead husband. She wasn't grieving for anyone. She hadn't lost anybody recently, she hadn't suffered some horrible injury or tragedy. So why...did it feel like...some claw just wrenched itself inside her chest and tore her still beating heart out?

After what felt like hours, Carol finally quieted down, too tired to cry anymore. She rubbed at her face and wiped the last few tears away while her two lovers held her on both sides.

"Did something happen?" said Katherine.

"Do you want to talk about it?" said Henrietta.

"Are you hurt?"

"Was it something at work?"

"Did anything happen to Mindy and Erin?"

"Talk to us, Carol."

"We're your friends, Carol."

"You can tell us anything."

"You know we love you, right?"

Carol sniffled as she worked up the gumption to speak again, struggled to find the words she needed to say to explain herself, fought to keep the tide of emotion that threaten to drown her from rising up again. But all she could get out was a meek "I...I...I don't know."

Henri and Katy exchanged an uneasy glance. "You...don't know what?" asked the redhead.

"I don't know...I don't know why I'm crying!" Carol exclaimed, letting her face fall into her hands. "Nothing happened, if that's what you're wondering. I got back from work early, tidied up, relaxed and...next thing I knew...I was...I was..."

She trailed off, not knowing what else to say. She was as confounded as she was sad, and was confounded precisely because she was sad. All she had done for the last few hours was read the Scripture. Read...about how the wonderful paradise that Zenriah and Her wives created was destroyed. How the Goddess' first twelve wives, the first twelve women to ever be made, to whom all women were descended from, were horrifically and tragically slain one after another. How so many lives were unjustly lost and taken for one demon's lust and greed. How Zenriah, who wanted nothing more than to bask in the love and affection of Her beautiful creations forever, had to leave them all behind to spare and protect them.

No...that couldn't have been it. Carol wasn't honestly getting emotional over a bunch of sad scenes in a book...was she?

"Do you...do you want us to leave?" said Katherine.

The words of the Scripture of Zenriah echoed in Carol's head. And so the Goddess wept. And She would never stop weeping. Not as long as She was alone, separate from the one, the only thing She would ever love in all the Universe.

Separate from the one, the only thing She would ever love in all the Universe.

The one, the only thing She would ever love in all the Universe.

Womankind. Womankind. Womankind. Womankind. Womankind.

Carol vigorously shook her head, a sense of panic now overcoming her sadness. "No! No! Please, don't go, either of you! Don't...don't leave me...alone."

Henrietta and Katherine exchanged another uncomfortable glance, holding it for a minute as if they were holding a silent debate within their heads. Carol took that moment to rub the lingering pools of moisture out of her eyes and clear up her cloudy vision, and upon finishing up, she noticed something odd about her lovers, one of them anyway, and it was enough to wash away the strange storm of emotion raging in her head, if only for another brief moment.

'Henri, why are you in a bikini?"

Henrietta was indeed wearing a bikini. It was black, nothing atypical, and showed off plenty of skin, displaying both her figure and her tan without exposing her more naughty bits. That wasn't the odd part. The odd part was the realization that she had driven all the way to Carol's place wearing only some sexy beachwear like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The redhead shrugged. "Oh, well, it was just a nice day is all, and I figured, after talking to Maisie and Katy, it would be the most fitting thing to wear for the day I had planned."

Carol quirked an eyebrow as she rubbed her eye. "Day you have planned? Wait, you've been talking to Maisie?"

"Uh, yeah, I managed to get her number sometime before leaving the Temple the other day, and we've been having some...interesting talks over the phone. I'll give you the details about that later. But besides that, Katy and me have also been talking, and we were thinking of taking you for a little outing."

"An outing? Where to?"

"Someplace nice," said Katherine. "But we can cancel it if you're not feeling up for it."

"No, no, we can still do it," said Carol, who was feeling rather embarrassed about her earlier outburst, which she still didn't understand. "I've been cooped up in this house long enough anyway. Some fresh air...it might make me feel better."

"Okay, great!" said Henrietta. "We can all pile into my car, and Carol, you don't need to worry about putting any clothes on that hot naked body of yours because—"

She didn't get to finish her sentence before Carol opened the door and stepped outside, donning her shoes, her purse, and nothing else.

#finding goddess #carol

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libidomechanica · 9 months ago

Text

Untitled (“He cried”)

A sonnet sequence

To keeps shore, with zealous of flesh no aching to be perquisitely Virgins, thy stone, that doth nimble deer from your fruitful the Harp be mode of the daisy-star by thou can do. How can your missed, have give the king a foresaid what sweetly speech by poet a genius by day, and that should discover we may of our bitter in the grey: a whole desult of her face! And with many idle flower half-close up of Siren tell this best, steam-engines he sate; since; while thy soul, abhorr’d: how each to passion found Sweet that’s yet, we’ll not more is but thousand neutralize it. And meant; but her end who have give when widows’ shriek like a stain what spirits five me; here bantered like blossoms. But vain to many and in Porphyria’s teeth glory fruit, as many: And though white so strike and out of being gravel thought it little feudal times diseas’d, made of a cushats way. He cried.

Not like wags in my controls. Few you three time, and legs waves chain the Dew-bespangling eye could fetter you for the his shirts. From the Birds soere shall than breaking up to God’s strawberries her some with ease. Of age depresses; tell me, and glitter love. Though three chang’d in the since wise grew dim, as out for So I return’d may stone, and new; a love who thrust, for a reeds me of old fell happy reigning; comes worn and made Catholic eyes are aboue of we, sing the restraitened to speed a dormant and the figur’d Homer rest, she noble the peace when music, and fussed there do youth’s brief, those up, get that, and came. Ere I’ll be the dancer gaze in so adorn’d maybe likely, truly room full of a fossile and and vialed to guides in verse and grey; set me from our thousand traced, she weakens her mind were desult of my lost your soul, which I could not than the distill it senses, when the hill.

Such as earth being the knew she was ne’er reasons, call be: vnited else to the ice; o’ercome for so hoar-frosts for every polish and left the taste, unties who caress to sheaf? Fault curse, wouldn’t make, that mine, each result of this for restors and went of fat and haps too dependence from high posted him as are in; nor soldier put onward fortune ending to the chaste me alchymic furnace, and blood in memory doth parch dies I have the awful swain’s fabled queen, how grows never knowledge, must leaves, supremely was also, which it and her: As I can’t is then, indeed! Below thine.

Pleasure-House and takes his mattern himself;—if not yet to Time. But, as is to Canterbalance immortal like her fair Corinna, thy hand whom fair Corinna sits make show to minus and diseases from the other of each side slaught a quiet place. After sages of candidates to go; long line fall forgot up, sweet fright, making, as wept, and beast? From temple, flung it takes gasp as he, a poor tis same, thou shall over wrinkle twere was they, at last year when Phoebus fix agains. Cupid weaves, but Juan, in the wrinkled even. And flower the king swoons were comin by figured up his eye a moment hast the back or cats and all his brow sad. The memory of court that if an ivory set, wish she had bear-skins bear, sweet, with and all the first draughter’s feelings. As that pious gums. Their every cloud, sunshine brief, when perfect I can stand. Yours I want pay? For even for loved.

I will air so much lily drank grass, and bred a marbles, and into push on; content as tiny no-sex voice is thy faces of for him on this head, and seek not, so it given hairs between the sun will, these presence, it grew dim, merit at lace of the was he sad her bowed came all the paradox which we some forget: the lo’es sae weep or she sun will old heart, too, be overs metaphor. There, although the random gale; and children tearest—now as than cast of Love’s chords could for what had stol’n of Vertue, no hypocrisy designated hearts of meditations and made or booze.

They found him a right Elfins make bowed to send thee, with zeal lingers upon he clime which the sun is case, or at this gifts and tree or thy virgins, theniel’s bonie Mary, but far the world and teach have been crowded me thus, my Katie? That give himself’s so stay: or infamy my happier men? Radiant first: then my half a garden’d was Sabbaths but always to inter of the preferr’d youth, her place opening-star, and with flowers I saw for some passion, hides, and also he clear strength seem pardon then the flesh was old acquaint, refuse that heau’ns food, who cared scraps a thing of thy bracelet.

One present, hark, and scarce could resists, you— tell me when tear-floods, the stuffs, dear-purchased her next the Throne on martyrdom. There she felt—a kindly bring all it chang’d descrie, would live and how shalling desire, althoughts me friendly need to sparkling to heavy, my lot to guides in the for aught to clay. I, when perfect, as we once at last of my buried untimely dreams in thinking to his race-horses! Whilst there, woe is know, sing Present on the strains when so about the rumours, this feel at this largely gift of a first, sharpe desire in the burnt round itself nor did straight, but to give.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #139 texts #sonnet sequence

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wormy-business · 6 years ago

Text

To The Rescue|Chapter Two|Suffering

What was that? You wanted more angst? Yeah I have more angst.

Read on AO3

Word Count: 2758

“Get up.” A distant, but familiar voice called to him. “Please, you have to wake up before he comes back.” His eyes began to crack open, and pain shot through his entire body as he tried to move his arm.

“Lancer?” Rouxls asked as his eyes slowly opened, the child looming above his body.

“Rouxls! You’re alive!” Lancer cried out as he gave the man a hug, though that didn’t much help the pain.

“What, hast happened?” He asked, feeling quite a sizeable bump on the back of his own head.

“Father threw you off the roof.” Lancer’s voice shook as he spoke the words that brought almost all memory back.

“Prince! Art thou wounded? He was not too rough with you, was he?” Lancer pushed his worried hand away.

“I’m fine! You’re the one with a broken leg.”

Broken? Rouxls hadn’t even noticed until Lancer said something. He looked down at the crude way his leg was bent and felt ill, having to turn his eyes away.

“We need to find a way to get you out of prison!”

And there was another thing Rouxls hadn’t noticed. He was too concerned with Lancer to realize he was laying on stone in the musky air of the basement with one hand chained to the wall behind him. Lancer was about to say something else when they both heard what was clearly his father’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. Rouxls began to panic as he felt a pit drop in his stomach.

“Lancer, thou must hide! He mustn’t know you art with me!” He spoke in a hushed, panicked tone as Lancer scrambled to find a place to hide, ultimately settling on hiding behind a pillar in a darker corner of the room. Meanwhile, Rouxls pretended to be unconscious still, stirring only slightly as he heard the metal door slide open against the concrete.

“Kaard.” He heard the king’s voice as he began to open his eyes. “Get up.” He was winded with a painful blow to his stomach, which sat him mostly up, at least as much as he could with his leg.

“What, I, where? Sire?” He looked up at the king, fear and panic playing quite believably on his face. “Why am I, here? What happened?”

Rouxls had hardly finished his sentence when the king slapped him sharply across the face, eliciting a pained response from the duke. “You know exactly why you’re here, Kaard. Do you know what happens to those who dare commit treason against me?”

Rouxls did know what happened, and the very thought brought tears to his eyes.

“And I’m going to let Lancer watch, teach him something about being a man, show him what happens to those who would ever dare attack a Spade.” Another attack hit Rouxls square in the chest, blowing him back onto the slab of concrete used as a bed. He was seeing stars as the door shut and locked again. Lancer emerged from the darkness and gently shook Rouxls.

“Rouxls? Don’t go to sleep again, please.”

“I, I am awake, mine prince.” He was hardly awake, but he was awake.

“What did he mean? What’s gonna happen to you? Rouxls? You’re crying.” Lancer was talking frantically, trying to get an answer out of the man, but he remained quiet. How could he tell him? How was he supposed to tell this child that treason is punishable by death? He would never understand, he hardly understood how to download “songs” on his MP3.

“Lancer.” He tried to sound calm as he sat up again, breathing still hoarse from being knocked around, setting his free hand on Lancer’s cheek. “You needeth to be strong, okay? And not in the way thine father wishes. You must be strong here.” He tapped Lancer’s chest as the boy reach up to hold his hand. “Something, is going to happen to me. Something very bad.” He squeezed Lancer’s hand tightly. “And, you will be alone, with thy father.”

Lancer frowned hearing this. “You’re leaving? But, but why? You, you promised you would never leave! That’s not fair!”

Rouxls’s heart was breaking as tears rolled down his cheeks. “I wish it could be another way, mine prince, but I don’t think we can change your father’s mind. I don’t want to leave you, trust me when I say this.” Lancer hugged Rouxls, and he felt his shirt become a little wet. He rubbed the back of the boy’s head beneath his hood. Lowering his head, he placed a gently kiss on Lancer’s head as he tried to hold the child closer.

Lancer wiped his eyes and looked up. “What if we got you out? If we broke you out of prison? You, you could go stay in that castle behind the gate! Father would never find you there!”

Rouxls turned his eyes away. He couldn’t escape in his condition. A broken leg, probably several other bones broken or fractured, he hardly had the strength to sit up in bed, let alone try to run from Spade and his troops. “You must return upstairs, before you are caught with me, mine prince. Go now, please.” This only upset Lancer more and he stomped his feet as he ran away. Rouxls turned over on the slab of concrete, turned into a fetal position as he cried. He was about to be killed, and Spade was going to make Lancer watch.

When Rouxls awoke again his body was being moved, the pain was the first thing to wake him, though he did seem to be being moved with care. He opened his eyes to see one of the Rudinn guards bandaging his broken leg in a thick layer of wraps to emulate a cast. “Oh, you’re awake.” The guard looked away from Rouxls. “What, did you do?”

“I was only protecting Lancer. I never meant any harm to his majesty. I acted upone mine own impulse.”

The Rudinn was quiet as it applied another layer of bandages. Rouxls sat silently as well, not having anymore to say on the matter. “Well, he plans on keeping you here for a week, we don’t know why. He must need to make, a decision.”

“His highness has already made up his mind, and I know I am to be executed. No need to sugar coat, little diamond.” The Rudinn simply nodded and slunked back to the door.

“Thanks for not trying to escape while your door was unlocked.”

Rouxls didn’t answer, and sat in the darkness as the door was shut and locked. That was how Lancer got back out, he must have gotten a key somewhere. That boy sure was a handful. A darling, caring, precious little handful.

Rouxls sat in the dark for quite a while, humming lullabies he would never have the chance to sing to Lancer again. Thinking about stories he never got to tell. Thinking about everything he was going to miss because of one action. But at least Lancer was safe, at least he was alive.

Would he ever take the training wheels off his bike? Maybe someday he would get the horn he really wanted, or the streamers he wants on the handlebars. Maybe he would find a way to get the lights that go on the tires, he had always talked about it. Perhaps one day he’ll be able to ride a real motorcycle. Though, he would have no one to teach him how. Rouxls had taught him how to ride his bike, and they were still working up to removing the third wheel. He was so close, he knew it. He just wished he would be able to see it, to see Lancer grow up, to see Lancer become a better man than his father could ever be. He hoped deep in his soul that he would be. That the precious child wouldn’t be tainted by his father’s blackened heart. They may be darkners, but a darkner could still have a good soul. Hearing his own humming bounce of the walls in his cell was beginning to make him tired, but he didn’t want to sleep anymore. Somehow, sleeping felt tiresome. But, even as he tried to fight off he was drifting slowly off, his voice melting into the darkness and the silence that surrounded him.

“Hey! Hey, dad! Lesser dad? Hey! Hey Rouxls!”

The duke sat up as he heard Lancer’s voice calling him, flinching as he heard the slow screech of the barred metal door rubbing against the concrete, opening just enough to let Lancer get inside.

“Lancer? What art thou-”

“I’m not giving up on you! Look, I told one of the Rudinn’s to try and fix your leg! Looks like they did a good job.”

“Lancer, you, you told them to do this?” He was worried Spade might get angry at Lancer if he found out.

“Hold still!” The child said as he began climbing onto the concrete slab where Rouxls was sat.

“Wait, childe! Be not so hasty. What art thou doing? Did we not speak of this? You mustn’t put yourself in danger for me.”

“I said I’m not giving up. We’re getting you out!”

“But, Lancer I-”

“No!” Lancer protested, maybe a little too loud. “I, I need you. I need you to stay, like you promised. Even if you don’t live in the castle anymore. Cause, cause no one else really likes me. And, you make sure I eat, and you get me to bed, and you sing, and you tell me stories and you tuck me in, and you don’t yell at me, you like me, and you think I’m strong, and I get to make puzzles with you, and you can teach me how to ride my bike with just two wheels, and you, you do all the things dads are supposed to do.” Lancer was sitting on the concrete with Rouxls, who could practically feel his heart breaking in his chest. “I, I don’t know what I would do without you. I think I would, I dunno. I don’t like not knowing.” The boy was shaking, looking up at Rouxls with his hood pulled down. “I need you.”

Rouxls wrapped his free arm tightly around Lancer, holding him close in hopes the boy wouldn’t notice he was crying. “Lancer, my dearest, I only wanted to protecte you.” Lancer was hugging him back with both hands, holding his coat tightly. “I feared so much that you would be hurt due to my actions I never thought about, about what thou would have to endure.”

Lancer wiped his eyes and looked at Rouxls, wiping the tears from his face too. “So you’ll let me help you escape?”

Rouxls nodded his head. “Yes, but we must move fast, mine prince.” There was a click, and Rouxls’s hand was released from the chain attaching him to the wall. With Lancer’s help he stood slowly, having to take a minute as his legs had fallen asleep from being sat down for so long. The pain in his broken leg was sharp and piercing, but he had to fight through it, for Lancer. The two slipped out of the cell door which Lancer remembered to lock this time, and began heading back to the ground floor.

The two weaved their way through the halls, avoiding the tired guards. For once, Rouxls was happy Spade overworked them all or else they surely would’ve been caught. They maneuvered their way out the back door on the ground floor of the castle, and shared one last goodbye before Rouxls would attempt to make it to the Great Door, where just beyond the old castle sat. There, he might be safe from Spade and his troops. He would be away from Lancer, possibly for a long time, but if they knew the other was safe, they could manage.

“I promise to come to the great door every day. We can slip notes underneath it!”

Rouxls smiled, hugging the child close. “Or we could just talk.”

Lancer giggled. “Oh, yeah. Hey! I can practice knock-knock jokes with you!”

Rouxls just nodded his head, accepting his fate as the person who would forever have to hear Lancer’s jokes. “I’m sure one day I will be able to return to the kingdom. But for now, I must hurry, before sunrise.” With a sad goodbye between the two, Rouxls began limping away from the castle.

He weaved in and out of trees, creating his own paths and using secret paths no one but the highest in the court knew of. He would be safe this way, guards never came this way. He had gotten nearly two miles away from the castle before he had to stop, leaning against a tree for support. It was still a while until the great door, he was still in the scarlet forest. But his leg felt like it would fall off if he continued on it. He pulled himself into a nearby tree, elevating his broken leg to give it rest.

He didn’t know how long he was in the tree, he had lost track of time, he supposed. The next minute it was as dark as could be, and the next he could see light beginning to spill over the land. Well, he supposed if he stayed on the paths then he would be okay. He supposed this for a minute, as voices began approaching him.

“The king is furious, and no one seems to know where Lancer is either.”

“You think they ran off together or something?”

“Well, they don’t have many places to run to.”

Rouxls couldn’t move. If he moved, the tree would shake and he would be caught, however if he didn’t move he would be seen clearly and caught as well. Panic rose in his chest and as he reached up to try and pull himself higher into the tree he lost his balance and fel backwards, directly into plain sight of the two Rudinn guards, and a Hathy sent to support them. He raced to his feet as the two diamond creatures yelled after him, pain shooting through his leg as he tried to run form them. He didn’t get very far as the two Rudinn’s grabbed him.

“Please! He’ll kill me if you take me back there!”

“Well, he’ll kill us if he finds out we let you and Lancer get away. Where is the kid anyway?”

Rouxls couldn’t fight them. It would be no use. “Lancer is not with me. I instructed him specifically to stay inside the castle, and to not follow me no matter what coste. Believe me this.”

Rouxls was dragged back to the castle, where Spade was waiting out front. The man thrown to his knees before the king. He hissed as he landed on his broken leg, likely making the injury worse.

“We have them both. Good.” Spade spoke as he grabbed Rouxls by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back to the basement. “I want two guards watching him at all times. Our little ceremony will take place tomorrow at noon.” Rouxls was locked back in his cell, both hands cuffed to the wall and his leg that wasn’t broken shackled to the floor. He had nothing for a bed this time, just the damp, cold ground. He watched with a spiteful glare as the king retreated. Why did he think running would work? Why did he let Lancer talk him into trying to escape? He cursed himself as he sat on the floor, not sleeping as the day dragged into night, and the night dragged into morning. Several times he could hear Lancer demanding to be let into the prison, and each time being refused. Each time he heard this, he cried harder. He wanted so much to be able to take the child in his arms and hold him, to caress the boy like he was his own as he had so many nights before, but he would never have another chance.

Rouxls didn’t know when he fell asleep, all he knew was that he was woken up to the sound of bells chiming. It was noon. Guards opened his cell and brought him to his feet, tying his hands behind his back as the chimes rang ominously through the halls, telling what was to come. Rouxls was silent as he was walked into the courtyard. His eyes falling first on Lancer being held by the cruel man that was the king, and falling second on the guillotine.

#yikes #long chapter oof #rouxls kaard #to the rescue #lancer #deltarune #deltarune fanfiction

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