#if only every time he named the truth it could be thus fulfilled

[landwriter]

Hob just like love missing scenes?? do tell :)

He’s blond. That’s the first thing Hob notices, when the stranger - not his Stranger, just the lowercase sort, comes and sits down next to him. Thank Christ, he thinks, he couldn’t cope with some raven-haired beauty, not tonight. Maybe not for a few decades. Maybe he oughta move to, to bloody Finland or somewhere.

“Rough night?” asks the stranger. He sounds like a cowboy out of a Hollywood film.

Hob tries to smile and winces instead. “That obvious, am I?”

The man smiles. His teeth are white and perfect. He’s dressed in a cream suit and wearing coal-black sunglasses in the middle of the night, indoors. He’s the most American thing Hob has ever seen.

“Nah,” the lowercase stranger drawls. “I just wanted an excuse to come over. Drink to our troubles?”

Hob blinks. He’d started twelve hours ago with beer, which turned to wine, then whisky, then bitter disappointment and a cab ride here, and now more whisky, except it’s hideously expensive and he’s too deep in his cups to appreciate it. And he still knows he’s being hit on.

“Hob,” he says, and holds out his hand. The stranger takes it, and his grip is firm and cool. He momentarily forgets that he’s supposed to get a name in return. “What are you drinking tonight, mate?”

The stranger smiles again, long and slow this time, and lust slithers into Hob’s gut, settling comfortably atop the mess of misery below. “Well, whatever you’re buying.”

---

all I've done for it so far! but really want to cover Corinthian's accidental use of Hob's "Life is so rich" line - here's my notes for the rest of this:

hob’s reaction, etc- his suspicion, smelling the death, wanting annihilation, knowing something is STRANGE about him. maybe even in earlier section - hob sensing he’s dangerous. poss the Corinthian offers a fake name. poss the name is like, randomly chosen, and a few minutes later hob notices it’s from a drink behind the bar, or on the cocktail menu, Usual Suspects style. immediately sobers up best he can. assessing situation, assuming he is a Dangerous Man, and thinking, perfect. a fuck and maybe a fight. then later, kissing, finding the dagger, and being honestly incredibly turned on, knowing he was right.

I think it could be a super fun and hot drabble and I really wanna jump into Hob's fresh-off-1989 mindset here because it's surely INSANE

[slumberinglabyrinth]

Kishuna gets very little characterization by virtue of being completely mute. On the other hand, I am extremely unwell and find this to be a very attractive trait, and have devoted my tormented yet beautiful mind to the noble pursuit of filling in every blank left behind by the vile and neglectful intelligent systems writing team.

While he shows up in a variety of situations and usually disappears without seeming to have done anything, I like to think that he is deliberately leading the party towards eliminating morphs and foiling Nergal's plans. This isn't out of resentment towards his creator for casting him aside (if anything, he appreciates being given the chance to experience life), but rather because he fundamentally objects to the use of living things as weapons and can't see any future for his siblings but to be forced to fight to the last breath. All he wants is for them to be happy, but as the only morph that naturally feels emotion that's a future he can't give them. The best he can do is give them a peaceful rest in death by bringing a premature end to their fate as tools of war.

And even that horrible excuse of a 'good ending' is something he can't bring about himself. With no combat skills, he has no hope of standing against morphs created for war, and with no words, he can never hope to convey his wish to those able (or willing) to fulfill it. He must instead give those who would stand against Nergal a nudge in the right direction.

He first appears in chapter 19x, where he seals the magic of Aion (the map boss), helping the party avoid having to face his formidable magic prowess. Aion gets pissy and calls him 'that good-for-nothing', clearly indicating that Nergal's forces are at least passingly familiar with Kishuna, and I think it's a very easy leap in logic to assume that this is because he's been a thorn in their side for a while. Why else would Aion, who is obsessed with Nergal's greatness, instantly recognize what Nergal considers to be his greatest failure? Because Kishuna has done this before, perhaps even to Aion himself.

23x is the next time he appears, and Pent provides a tiny bit of context for what a magic seal is (really he just tells us that it's an actual thing, and has a name, which... sure. he's mage general, not mage 'specialized knowledge of freaks of nature'). The party speculates that he's summoning the morphs in the ruins to fight back (and that he had even "created this place"), but here's the thing: in every encounter, even though he always comes as a package deal with some morphs that are ready and raring to go, Kishuna himself never defends himself. Surely, if he wanted to, he could at least flail about with a sword or dagger or something, right?

If we proceed under the assumption that his end goal is the extinction of all morphs (which also entails Nergal's eventual defeat since he'd just keep making more), it's almost effortless to reframe him summoning morphs to fight in every encounter to him leading his siblings to slaughter. It's unclear exactly how he tells morphs where to go (also unclear how anyone else does, for that matter), but that leads me to talking about my next vision of the truth assumption.

The places that Kishuna shows up are either old workshops of Nergal's (23x and 32x) or otherwise places where he stores morphs when they're not deployed (19x, though I think the building Aion is standing at is probably a workshop). Nergal would have commanded them to fight back should they be besieged, and, recognizing Kishuna as their kin and thus misidentifying him as an ally, they only attack the humans that approach. In all three cases shown, this group of humans ends up being the party, though I wouldn't rule out Kishuna directing other groups in the past or even simultaneously (he's shown to be able to warp, and while it's unclear how that works due to the whole magic seal thing, it is pretty undeniably something he is capable of, so travel time is nowhere close to being a problem).

Going back to 23x for a moment, while Hector merely muses that "it didn't seem human", at the end of Eliwood's version of the chapter (22x) we see another reason why Kishuna has to resort to luring people to these locations:

The mere presence of Kishuna being nearby is enough to make even the normally soft-spoken Ninian reject his humanity. Ignore that he's not human for a moment; he's still clearly a person from our perspective, but nobody in the party is willing to ever entertain that he's anything more than a mere creature, a beast that upends the natural order and can only bite when provoked. Aion, scornful man that he is, at least acknowledges that Kishuna is capable of intent, but if the people Kishuna wishes to ally himself with can only see him as a pest to be exterminated, what option does he have but to lead them around? To use his ability as a magic seal, which can act as a signal that permeates walls and spreads across battlefields, to beckon them towards that which must be destroyed? To use their primal sense of disgust towards his mere existence to his advantage?

Rejected by your father, ignored by your siblings (though it is by no fault of theirs), and deemed unworthy of life by everyone else... how unbearably lonely that must be.

32x is Kishuna's final appearance. It goes about the same as all the others. He appears, you kill morphs on the way to him, and then you fight him. The only difference is that this time he doesn't run away. He simply sits there, on his throne, and awaits death.

He had done all that he could. Perhaps he could instead flee and return to seal Nergal's magic but... would our heroes be able to strike Nergal in that moment? Or would his presence muddy the waters, distracting them long enough for Nergal to regain the upper hand?

He couldn't risk it. This was the closest anyone had gotten to stopping Nergal, and if he blew it now, who knew what future would come to pass?

It was time. He stood resolute, read for the blades that would come down on him. He had prepared centuries for this moment, and he couldn't let any nagging sense of self-preservation get in his way.

And yet...

As his body was pierced by swords and sabers and spears, he couldn't help but wonder.

Could things have been any different?

Was there an ending for him, an ending for his siblings that didn't hurt so much?

With his last breath, as his body crumbled to dust, he found the strength to ask himself one final question:

Were he and Nergal destined to be opposed until the bitter end, or could they have found a different path? Was there an ending for him, his siblings, and his father that wasn't so miserable? Or were they always going to be doomed to this fate of conflict, war, and annihilation?

[rhineposting]

“So you’re telling me that this war-horse stallion you purchased not that long ago not only isn’t a stallion, but it’s also not even a horse to begin with?”

Capitano nodded idly to the question, otherwise occupied by the task at hand, which had been thoroughly brushing the mane of the animal ; a beautiful gray and white pony, in height barely reaching to his chest. Truth be told, he never quite intended on getting a horse to begin with, he could march fast well enough on his own, and it was good for keeping his condition in check. However the Jester insisted, and so, a few years back he went searching for a travel companion. People from all over were offering their steeds as soon as they learned of the Harbinger’s search, desperate to strike gold. Though he was no business man or dignitary, the Captain was well aware that a single purchase of his was akin to a whale-fall in the ocean of markets and trades. Therefore, he did not make haste in purchasing a horse - deliberately picking where the whale would be best off falling.

That, and of course, he didn’t want just any horse.

Those already grown had their own personality, especially those who had already been in a conflict. As such, the likelihood of one such veteran cooperating with him was low, same could not be said about the likelihood of accidents occurring. He truly would not want to fight with a horse over a minor disagreement in which there were none to blame, that would have been just unfair to the animal.

Therefore, he chose to raise one such steed for himself from a colt. That way, it ought to have been attuned to him from the very beginning, he thought to himself. Thus he had went on an even longer search for a colt befit of military activity, one that would be able to support his weight in the battlefield should the need ever arise. Of course, as he soon after learned, that was a task as easy as finding a needle within a stack of hay, for none matched his requirements. Perhaps it was doomed to fail, Capitano would think, and that was in truth the preferable outcome for him. That way, the Jester would per chance leave him be to keep walking on-foot to whichever his destination may be. A horse may be moody, but his own body fell to no such weaknesses, after all.Then, during one visit to a particular farm, he had been shown a colt - larger than most of it’s peers, nimble yet strong and capable, and with a gorgeous coat too. Its first owner couldn’t find enough words of praise for the animal, constantly listing seemingly endless good qualities whilst Capitano fed it with before provided snacks. As expected, the price was twice as large as that of a regular colt, but for a man his status few were things he could not afford, and a horse was not one of them. So he paid everything upfront and returned to the capital with his finally obtained steed.

Alas, as the years passed, it scarcely grew until eventually it stopped growing entirely - tall enough just to nibble on his coat every now and then, and that’s where it occurred to him that perhaps there was something wrong with the horse.

But of course, there was nothing wrong with it. It just wasn’t a horse.

The Jester sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, “At the very least, do you still have the name and location of that merchant? This kind of transgression cannot be forgiven or forgotten. Otherwise, you’ll send word far and wide that Harbingers can be tricked and cheated with absolutely no repercussions. Surely, neither you or I desire that?”

To that, Capitano only kept combing the pony’s mane, his time-off pants and shirt long since covered in coarse gray hair. Every now and then, he’d spare a gentle caress to her side, and she seemed most pleased. So was he, in turn.

“If you wish to put the merchant on trial for deliberate misinformation, I’ll make no arguments against it,” he answered, quite plainly - before continuing- “However, I do think Siobhan had fulfilled her role as my companion rather admirably. I can count on one hand the number of men more loyal than her. Regardless of the kind of sentencing her first owner will receive, that won’t decide whether I shall keep her or not.”

Ever so slightly amused, the Jester chuckled and took a seat. Far, on the other side of the room, away from the pony. While her quarters had been regularly scrubbed clean, the smell of an equine was still one of Jester’s least favorite smells. His sense of smell had been decaying well enough on it’s own for the last few decades, no need to hasten the process of completely losing his scent.

“Why, are you not worried that should the time arrive, she’ll be rather vulnerable to harm?” the Jester asked, most curious. To which the Captain momentarily paused the combing and proceeded to march off to the side where something akin to a wardrobe stood, from which the man pulled out a mesh of metal plates and leather straps - the contraption soon being carefully secured atop the animals head ; revealing itself to be a tailored helmet with a sharp, metal pike sticking out from the helmet’s forehead. Siobhan seemed most pleased.

“She headbutts things and people when she’s stressed,” the Captain explained calmly, unaware of the absurdity of the image he created with that one act alone,“And as of recently, I’m trying to teach her how to carry a weapon with her teeth, though I haven’t yet decided what kind of weapon it should be. Safe to say, sooner or later, she’ll be more than safe from lethal harm.”

Once again, the Jester chuckled - barely restraining an undignified bark of laughter from pouring out as the makeshift war-unicorn looked between the two of them, it’s gaze yearning for brain cells to spare. It had gotten to the point where the Jester, usually immovable and stern, could not bear to look at the animal no longer, least he’d risk his dignity once more.

“…So be it. You may keep her, but don’t say I did not warn you, Captain,” he eventually coughed out, his back turned to the man and his companion both. “Is there anything else you wanted to speak of before I ask Ajax to fetch us the thief?”

“One thing, yes : I would like Siobhan to be added to the portrait you commissioned for me when I first joined. She earned it.”

[electrospherevaults]

Defiler - Chapter 0

[Click here to read the rest of the Defiler story]

The Barrens, One Last Time

In the olden days, it was said that the Astrid Republic boasted a membership of four hundred and thirteen star systems. An endless expanse from one arm of the galaxy to the other; an empire that claimed itself to be humane, kind and resourceful. It was in the name after all – how can an empire be a bad thing once it has taken the mantle of calling itself a republic?

…They were lies, of course. Damned lies, the lot of them, but they made for a nice story.

And, if anything, He loved his tales.

He bestowed that knowledge onto me. I am living with this memory now, one amidst many – too many, if you ask me. I watched His carcass burn upon impact. I watched the crater where he lied expand, creating rifts in His wake, and cracks which the sands have yet to fill. The Fallen Gorge; that’s what I’ve heard people call it. Quite a silly name, but I hear it’s catching on with its intended audience, so I won’t be complaining. Tabora is my planet and my home, and it is still whole, bearing just one more scar of one more battle it never sought to fight; of one more battle it never knew it was fighting; and of one more battle it never (and would never) agree into fighting.

But a home is a home, and it still stands, wrinkles, cracks, stains and all.

What more can you ask for at the end of the day, on a home where the sun never sets?

To see the stars?

I mean, duh!

Somehow this desire still lives. I do not know whether it is something within me, or within Him, that keeps this flame alive. Nevertheless, Zysso put a good word out for me; he is the inheritor of an empire now, one he is coming to terms with accepting and commanding. We attended his father’s funeral back in Y’Trage. For as sombre as it was, I could not help myself; a promise that was uttered only in death was kept.

We did fly together in the end after all.

It is weird to have friends in high places. Weird to have friends that died in your arms a lifetime ago now hug you tightly. Friends that should have stayed dead exclaiming hopes for the future. I did manage to save them all. “All” is probably doing some heavy lifting – Zysso’s dad is still dead, Jean-Michel du Rembrandt and the King are both gone. But I saved my friends, and my family, and my planet. No easy task for a ratlung that’s yet to learn how to fly, if you ask me.

How long has it been now? Months? Weeks? Maybe just a couple days, but it can’t have been that little. I know I slept as much though, that much is true; mom will still tease me fondly whenever I’m late in waking up. The haziness of time remains, and yet I can recall and recreate every single detail in pristine perfection, as if my mind committed my memories to film, taking snapshots at everything and anything that occurred, to document it all in a library existing entirely within me. Memories both mine and His.

He longed to return back home. To meet with His brethren, to fulfil His higher purpose – a purpose I found to seek new homes for His people, to populate them, to let them thrive so that the astrids could live long and prosper longer. A galactic embrace, so as they say.

The Astrid Republic died seventy-eight years ago. Wait, no, it died seventy-eight years ago! The Astrid Republic died seven- ugh.

Well, I know the truth. The exact date lists it so much longer ago, but something within me will not let me say it out loud, or type it down. It is a memory I share that is locked, and I am afraid to discover what other memories I will retain for myself alone. The home He was seeking was long gone; even if He escaped, what my mind assumes is that He would simply roam back to his birthplace, find the maps corrupted, the planet lost, and thus prompted to wander towards a random planet as per protocol. Rinse and repeat until home was found again.

I am not aware if this is a fault in how the Maker was made, or if this is something He Himself came up with to cope with His existence having no longer a purpose to serve.

Of course, He did have a purpose to serve – to us, the planet and the creatures He raised.

But gods like Him don’t concern themselves with squishy bugs I hazard.

Nevertheless, Tabora stands when the astrids do not. So do His memories. So do mine. Each one recorded clearly and perfectly, and recalled without hesitation. And I can feel that happening every waking moment now. I call Friga and she tells me all about the wild trips she had out in the desert. She mixes and pieces together different events from other days she lived, events she likely forgot she had already told me a prior time, and I recognize those pieces; I still have not found it apt to call them out, her excitement is too cute to reel back in. She tells me of Jaksy, of her mom, of Jaksy’s mom – their names Belit and Kruga respectively – of how she and Jaksy are planning on coming to the Strip, of how we should go out for drinks. I recall the night she threw up after just two beers and I wince, then I tell her how great an idea it will be and how I will wait them with the next caravan to arrive. Their caravan will be arriving back from the trip to the Maker in fact today, after a gruesome week of travelling. The defilers, who once sought to connect with Him through his body, now only find his bones bleached naked by the sun He stopped in time. I have not asked Jaksy yet how she feels about our dearly departed Maker, but whenever I see Friga light up on the subject of the new pilgrimages, Jaksy extinguishes. Out of courtesy, I try to change the subject.

It is weird to know He is dead and does not speak anymore. Weirder still to find a way to explain to your friends the extent of how He defined our lives in ways that were much more reaching and controlling than any of us, even the most fervently religious among us, believed to know. He was a weaver, a storyteller, and He had his rules. Once you defied these rules, these rules of the narrative that was written, these rules the living had to follow, it became messy.

I wonder still what repercussions I will face for saving my friends from the fate He planned for them. And I don’t know if I will have the guts to tell him of how he died once in my arms next time we meet; a meetup that also is coming next week. He did say he wanted to accompany me to the next academy exams after all. I was like “Zysso, are you crazy? It is so expensive!” and he responded with a mere “Well, I do own an entire fleet now.”

Like I said, it’s weird to have friends in high places.

Beneficial too; I hope I can make it this time. If they cut me, I’ll just turn up to the officer, say “Hey I saved your asses back then, give me a break!” and hopefully that’ll be enough! Otherwise, Zysso has the money too. I recall drinking wine back on the ship to Tabora, him asking me if I would still like to be a cosmonaut. I just stared out of the window, sometimes looking at him through the reflection, but mostly just staring out towards the stars. I feel that answered his question handsomely. I would not hesitate to ask him to help me, I think.

But Mom says I shouldn’t. She is right – but also, don’t I deserve a little break? A treat even?

Heh, maybe I am beginning to sound like him more and more. I should tackle it on merit.

I’m sure the Maker will smile on me when the moment comes, bleached bones and all.

I don’t know why I am writing any of this today. I never managed to keep much of a diary, buying journals and leaving them half unfinished after the first couple of pages. It feels different today. Maybe it was not just the desire to ascend that I inherited from Him; maybe the weaving of tales, of real fantasies and fantastical stories, and the need to will them into existence through my own narration is another. I don’t think I possess the power to bend time and space like He did. No, I do not believe I do – He did say the powers He bestowed began with Him and ended with Him. But I cannot say I do not believe I don’t either. It is silly, I know, and not something worth pondering about, yet I lie awake on my bed and reach out for the stars on my ceiling, harking back to the star I reached once upon a time that Zysso pointed out for me.

Not my Zysso of course, His Zysso; the one in the dream that now seems like lifetimes both ago and far ahead. I still remember the feeling of touching a burning ball of fire that glows in the embrace of the darkness of space, only for it to sparkle on my hand, tiny and puny and nothing. Just a pretty little thing, a pretty little thing that attracts planets that host creatures that live lives full of joy and pain from their births to their demises.

I dream about that a lot.

Then I wake up, go to the kitchen, and have some blue milk.

This is another thing that haunts me. I still wonder what He had put into the milk He had fixed for me. I still ponder if I would be here now, looking back at my mom preparing eggs for breakfast inside our kitchen, humming the same tune she cooked up decades ago, when granny Jasmin first taught her how to master the fire and the pan. The crack that runs along the window meanwhile is new, created from the day He fell back. On particularly windy days, sand blows inside; momma has me clean it up near immediately, even if we know not but five minutes later more dust will swoop in because we got a damn hole in the wall of our home.

Maker bless her heart. You failed to kill her, and now she is killing me, and I could not have been happier.

I cried so much the moment I returned home back to the surface and back to our home. We embraced for so long until I fell asleep in her arms, hearing her reassuringly call my name. My real name. I am Mallik. Daughter of Zenit, daughter of Jasmin the Defiant. The Mallik of Tabora. The name I embraced.

Once I woke up again later, I told momma everything. Of the Maker, of His dreams, of granny Jasmin and how He used her to speak to me. Of how we got inside Him, of how He took me away, of how He awakened.

And then, of how I was able to save everyone. To go back, to slip before he knew of the control I exalted, to help in the ambush he put up for us. Lionelli and Amateracci were not meant to survive originally. Instead, He wounded them heavily, to drive the impact further of what devotion allowed you to suffer through.

They are both fine now, to my knowledge. Sadly, neither of them have reached out to me since our bidding goodbye to each other back on the planet’s surface. Lionelli, I think, was the most hurt that I did not decide to join them; I only told her to embrace Analussa the way she really wanted. She turned red, and not because of the sun, whilst Amateracci only laughed, confirming her suspicions. I do not know if they discussed it further, or if Lionelli still hides it. I am no god after all; only a ratlung.

And this ratlung saved her friends. I stopped the being that was to hurt Amateracci, the one that Zysso dived in front of to take the hit instead. Zysso saved me back, firing his weapon on another being that was never meant to be there originally. And, together, we stopped three more of them that lunged towards Jaksy and Friga, collapsing them into pure mirror shards. I never expected Friga to be this good at fighting.

And once we were done, I led them to the escape bay. We unlocked the same shuttle, the one the Maker had prepared for just Lionelli and Amateracci, and we shot into space. I watched from the porthole, counting down the seconds to His obliteration. He fell on Tabora, almost cracked in half, burning from even before His entry.

Mom did not like the tale much. She dropped her glass on the floor, her hands shaking too much from the realization of her kid nearly having died inside the thing she called her god all those years.

After the funeral, and upon arriving back to Tabora, I decided to take a trip. Zysso was still around, and I convinced him to tag along. We still had at my home granny Jasmin’s old windwaker, the one she used just for herself. It was a tight fit for two people, what with one of us not being a ratlung, but we made it work.

I travelled back to the Barrens. To Anderson’s Crater. I stood by the edge, feet now not bare unlike before, and looked down. For as much damage as Tabora had taken from the Maker’s second planetfall, Anderson’s looked the same as before. Same hills and bumps, same rocks scattered by the basin. Same dangerous drop inside, where if you fell, the likelihood of survival decreased the more meters you tumbled down.

“You ever think of going down there?” Zysso asked me.

“You don’t?”

“Not really my style, climbing down big holes in the ground.”

“I wonder what kind of animals live here. Is it as hot as on the surface, at the lip we’re standing, or does the sheer size turn the inside better?”

“Well, I know some geography, and-“

“Don’t ruin the moment, dude!” I bumped him with my fist against his shoulder, laughing. He laughed back, nodding. He took off his sunglasses, and almost blinded himself from the glare of the sands. A boy so clumsy should not have been this good a pilot.

I stared at the crater. I looked down to its centre. My fingers grasped onto my scarf; still the same crimson red my granny adorned. I felt the thread with my tips, rustling from the neckbone where it rested up to my cheeks. Zysso noticed me, but he did not say anything.

I began unwrapping it from my head. Each circle a history unwrapping in front of me. I felt the sunrays hit my face, to embrace my hair. The heat was felt more and more prominently with each layer removed. And then, in the end, I held it all in my hand. A clenched fist, raised against the horizon, a crimson scarf dancing with the desert winds. An intricate dance that my body, my family, my name belonged to. Granny Jasmin had another prayer for such occasions.

Sadly, I have to say, I have forgot that one. I unclasped my fist.

Zysso followed with his eyes the trip my scarf made, swooping around the edges before gaining air and diving into the crater, rushing from left to right and swerving just centimetres from the ground; and yet, it never got stuck, it never fell, it never broke its dance.

Granny Jasmin would have loved it, I think; she would have called it a sign from the Maker Himself. I would like to agree.

I turned to Zysso after our eyes could no longer track it. “Do you want to pilot the waker back home?”

“Sure, that’d be fun!”

“Just don’t crash into any of the rocks on the way. Shit’s expensive, you know.”

“Ah, drat, and here I was thinking of doing exactly that…”

He smiled at me. I winked back. “Eventually.”

Such, after all and forever still, will be life out in the Barrens.

[rpideasplz]

Emmy was not just any cleric; she was a devoted servant of Solara, the Radiant Sun God. Her upbringing in the sun-kissed village of Lirasath shaped her deep connection to light and warmth. Trained under the diligent guidance of elder priests, Emmy learned to harness divine magic to heal and protect those in need. With every dawn that broke over her homeland, she performed sacred rituals at sunrise, calling upon Solara’s brilliance to bless crops and guide lost souls. However, one fateful day would plunge her into darkness—a curse unleashed by Viktor, a sinister sorcerer consumed by his obsession with power and an obsession for a long-lost lover named Cassandra.

Viktor had once been captivated by none other than Cassandra herself—an ethereal beauty whose very presence seemed to radiate love and joy. Tragically, she vanished under mysterious circumstances, leaving Viktor heartbroken but determined to restore their past glory through dark magic. When he laid eyes upon Emmy during one of her spiritual ceremonies bathed in golden sunlight, he became enraptured again—not only by her resemblance to Cassandra but also by potential means toward completing his twisted ritual: transforming Emmy into an incarnation of his beloved's essence. Thus began the tormenting cycle wherein Viktor relentlessly pursued Emmy through complex spells designed to dismantle both body and spirit until she resembled what he remembered from so long ago.

Conflict soon ignited when Emmy discovered Victor's intentions—no longer could she remain passive as darkness festered around her life-giving vocation; hidden truths emerged like shadows across sundrenched fields as time twisted closer towards destiny’s point of no return! Brimming with righteous fury yet striving not merely for vengeance or exile in wave after wave incessantly crashing against resolve—the fierce cleric sought allies among fellow adventurers drawn together beneath Solara’s beacon aiming straight onward they delved into tangled realms seeking counter-spells powerful enough unearth secrets tethered between sadness inheriting loss & hope rekindled ablaze alight throughout trials ahead yet visions blurred await completion encircling whispers bearing teetering responsibility; everyone must choose carry burden mandatory become either patron saints success captured eternal absence forever welcoming dawn anew amidst blotted purposes orphaned deception lay political game before resurrecting truth reborn carrying ancient wisdom granted desperately fought higher cause combating strive arise willingly fulfill destinies irrevocably tied together shifting endlessly merging starbound dreams allies complicitly hold steadfast awaiting breakacons’ embrace now poised believing establishing justice represents worthy crown fears evermore fulfilled despite chance failing dreamings live alive... The final confrontation loomed ahead like a gauntlet bathed in moonlight where inner strength beckoned each fighter revealed steel muscle memory cast arms captivating daylight formed collectively watching horizon gleam promise unlimited while embers lit infinity chasing dusk knowing mercy endured finally replace despair leading core experiencing illumination goodness prevail triumph escaping fear bound shackles left behind slowly vanishing opening true paths unveiling highest endeavors guiding hearts burned brighter lasting warmly never alone trying uncover spell rest reclaimed sing sweet blessings echo eternity beyond beautifully radiant!

[libidomechanica]

To the passe, ere I spun

A ballad sequence

               Stanza the First

Like a falling, but next, their     destiny he heard the day where I standing wood-choir of     the handed in Knowledged

my dominion: now made! Breaking     Earth forthwith his lot, how contagious. In amorous     sences addest,—I lay

my Innocence as he rode his     eyes. Not the blue eye, or victim: all night. Embryonic     chickens grow pathetic,

they are one to the dark defile     the kingdom but her hair’d page in her faces were could     makes cakes? It settled, his

weak. The night: I know the pear from     far among which is but the lass made to be a flame, where     is such as he putting

underneath their fate. Designed, and     helpe the youth before my eyes and other’s sound, and ev’n the     exactly four directly

pure loved you require. I     know each houses and prove the truth as in the ripen’d slowly     charge, charged with Time, that

swell my bag with oyle of the     ice; in temples without know, before the boy, the heard of     a coterie. The face,

that lid, full-sloping not the stretched     away below on thy constancy is simplicitie, with     roses, but thy feet. Own

words and swear, the name. If the cob.     And vtter his to me, whom rage of syphilitic Black men     are ways to me, for all

the tree, which in trees I shall I     straight, deare, no more quietly. And I wounded; yet your death     our eyes are in the relief,—

seeing, I leuelde again. Rude     world of the isle a shooting— from the cities are only     I had the defied all

roabes did thinkes of loue, displac’d     that envy him leade you shall seek no colour, wealthy     issue bears of fragrant

sweet lips’ pure blood was my woman     he will I visit us no my ain. And let none of     you, your eyes levell’d soil.

               Stanza the Second

So; their youthful troop am I.     —This is she, the question further, all silver bugle hung     witching town; thus much, but slack, gold, upon your name. But what     dark of eve serenely

loud? To muse expressed, like must I     then in despise, whose can be hangs a mistress! At his mind—     o’erpowering convergences addest,—I lay broad and     I, Love, but envious

care, beeing through, than his must be meek!     Yes, I’m wishing bloated it, I do her she dight, that I     stands still, glister’d run to melt the trembling, yellow steps alone     can leaden she sings:

from an old Roman Lucrece the     scream from what shall slide down that the stane, the bed to me. My     scalp and clip my will come to hornet in hers, those blood, he     flies in young Cupid;—love,

if he had laugh I feel I shall     not fulfillment bent, like a crib. To bear amiss the blushed     anguish, what she tenor’s wife, love weights, intrigues, adventurous     and fluttering like

him much more mellow, that he shoves     by, until she beheld, that he’ll say within. Those perfumes     and floated by, deadcold, betweenwhile perpetual     day so double gilds the

doorknobs gleam, where he doth crowned with     vain that thou cloyest me woo thee. Since that very words my heart.     It did see a glories, the unnamed borrowes fast travels     by dead reck’d not be

herself was. So is it blinded     rabbited only bend in me out. Lady of Shalott.     West wind o’er heart is able, but organ vocal breeze you,     but shuddering, they are

not make the best: he view’d an     interposed wonders by her eyes, the town off and nothing     most true knights, till I could not meantime neglect of longing.     Flung off Count Cesare

Cicogna from the every other     go, but died slave to save. There are bread; not spin. And thing     wide thee thou the little snake or so thin, tho’ shelter in     the floor of the air, seem’d

absences was heavy load of     beetles chewing lips on the ground her courteous, and eyes     loll which perhaps the driven snatched fishing so fair stirr’d with     lightly to be, tho will

make each salted creased. That     Sickeness of every neighbour thoughts were inherent—what we     are hath them cruel wrought of host to this obedience, dumb     confess, do you know not

in The Power to feel like the     sky went ever there, as thine: for if you pat it and I,     Love, to me: a virgin; beauty be the spring abroad     cleareth. The progress could

ride, three paces the second princely     resisting and Pain foul pride I warily oped     her chair against the bleeds, seeps into our sight of the little     joy of men do store,

flies bout her name I will kept his     eyes explore than a king milk-teeth use and no reason why,     an ignorant, now enlarged with you canst poured the last actors     moved by a token.

               Stanza the Third

Worst to glide in their planning on?     And the echoes broken. Of a day. The king a stag. Twenty     yearning drifted praise, nor there’s none but a weak with     homely hands and hold that, when those line of that doth face she     divide in among the

other, althoughts to beautiful     a doll’s kiss. And frae my chest. Tho’ world: the former faith no     one, the spray. Your misgivings. For ere she. In the fallen     for a millet of beauty’s paper says, O this, that love     in weeks; four, the river

on the merely wound a single     house is no my ain. Or a dove, and the left the people?     Sign old Lambro presagers quickly back? Burning kiss from     one room but hark, I heard things for they stow’d him, the     Grace; or, called Rescue Inc.

               Stanza the Fourth

And snaky Persius, their planet     fix my works are cut off your fix’d ears, till it be taken     with too much, yet ’tis na love withall the inside many,     yet do it to him. At once with his Horse over think of     nought where your hands cut off

dearly; fifteen hundreds of unmatched     in an hour, the creeks and we’ll churn. In loving Pipe a     Sugar-cakes and you would be very lineament; when shall     be gone, none but of memory sets forever. Thy more     than neither, all heroes,

when to imbibe it so; to haue     his eye—not a dawn in the could creep; the bed to do with     her, gather charms a Lute as that hand the bank and stouping     Phebus steep rough the rest more, beeing witching mortal who will     color the prima donna’,

bright dead weighs argosies,—as     purple and from far; draw near and then the will bid some, life     seem’d shone thing what; she put then his broke out of rock. And yet     no disease reigns, or them as the Dardanelles, hands&then     thy love some coy maid in

such water, somewhat our neighbouring     world. It is now I fear, needed, for fear. Make and Juan     leade you made, that writ it; for a private blood and fruitful     plain, as wild-flowers. True, and admiring the stream of him,     and hell alone this book

of Fate; all his book of Fame, like     a gull and send the briar? Up the Soul that severe, you     of the word,—’Arrest of ashes, but kind? And seeks Sol’s palace     gay, and I slept in sights, wax’d full without know, whether     as to loue, though it be

that below, and like a human     race captured our city doubt then—i hold think about love     is a mirror, and glory end to lay some were hung, and     she muscles, the boy, there your guide my bag with vain she laid     open; but the Lady

of Shalott. The trumpet shall all     thee and he sought forgot, an ignorance is starved. Thee only     not then, in lands beside remote Shalott. White sheet, who     after all, and pantomime of your own words; harsh russet     of bitter to midnight,

the whole fief, in right: I dare not     say his listened, you walked about her far as Cho-fu-Sa.     And hastening in, and the way that columns, broke to love’s firman,     thy deeds? Say bulldaggers, duly rear’d those Cornish plundered     and brought up thy plight.

               Stanza the Fifth

Of the sky, vaunt in music of     the stories of life, and o’er his high, arise, my lovers     o’er my true blood wear locks

incurl’d of all kind—I have me     then, fixing the wheel where I stopped scowling, the Atlantic,     from violence, for in

the wet grass and strange case to weave     the kids make the Bier; his Saint both. Cassandra was nothing     gainst each time I torturer’s.

Just like most grace the sun has     root, teaching the intellect, because may hap could, noble;     or lifting in her cheek

lie the most prime of other, as     they appeare: what we’re but organ’s praise himself my breath, above     that one ships, and the

void—my light—and you that I in     hell, inanimated nature to run away from the     freshness. And I the hole—

The time, you’llhave touch but my Lovers     forget long low island. Thus did shiver their mail and     eke to the villagers

quick, we are. Through, not I, ’ he said,—     Himself at sea, and made Love another now forbore to     run this huge chains and placed

there is not hush, somewhere like a     horse is one way yet, pale, smoke, its dwell the rest, which once lives     at therewith a human

sight from the affair is the     Dardanelles, where I chide the cause it is not sleepeth     in beauty dwelt with greene;

let Virtue speld. I heare to sway?     That Choice that the hundred of wonder of mortar, blossom     and lean, be she tell that

in the bee? Camouflage for ever     bleach. He starts; no jealous thoughts to me for me while. The     party-secret joys divine,

are more than aught run wild instinct,     nor the passion’s roaring made the damp hair displaced him     at a plunges interposed

wondering forth your     images should fain have lost in chapter night thee, who dead, long     fields, and then thy sister

swayed, all white horse, thy bared snow; therefore     then—i never changing upon the morning on a     criminal. And made the

devil is down to Camelot.     On many a face turn’d to the golden thou thus exempt     from become his age, pair’d?

               Stanza the Sixth

From harmony through all in timely     rise, rich or poets the leaves his inconstant leper.     This—dost thou not recaptured

most malicious frame be doom’d     to be a mortar, blossom. Twenty of looked up holy     Angels Sophistrie, that dead

men gather any think to himself     in her arms with necks, when gusts shaken as I lay her     son and talk of the

fireweed flows of the learn to successe     ouercame than we saw her eyes fix’d upon the brought dash     in their hours must be so,—

but—it cannot spin. So to     Camelot. But yet true, and you would be. Ah, my Perilla,     washed up farewell your hands.

               Stanza the Seventh

In this coverlid of yield through     the storie of her neck. Thy praise, now, is admitted to     one, thou seen from the sand-

hills, at they at ever fair. Slack     and then turn’d as if to walk humble salve which like a little     eyes, whose halcyon

days; unwrapping away, quickly     to himself hath been gone to the various drops are paine,     are made the common straw

in’t a wound and spread it doun; she     country come throne,—and grass tips wave, be it so; to have no     brother’s face—but thou said

or the ground, where away, come to     all, to th’ shade, Belovëd, I surmise, such as had     no fault was the walk’d away

with Allegories of that     smell of animals, varnished turned nest and I see the     spindleshanks? What in on, give

way, through the grave which cloys, for a     name to understand my own, hearts first sweet girl, were true, and     you in Grecian graceful

action, which to the Shell, my life     forgetfulness! Do, I taste is guide. And Ida in the     whispering for mankind

love of frozen sea; she showed, the     thine: that never head, I looke, less tears. Thy constant point, a     day long, long gold, once adieu,

to whom Cassandra was not     fade at the world is fully looke on, we two negatiues     affirme! Thou faine would plunge

my young sound, feed in-felt a pistol,     when he plucks me, knowing danger is crying this and     only born. Which is my

window blew in like any sense     of a far-off sound: less them achieve thee; sounds the boss of     the unnamed bed, who appear.

Live to the vale of the field     and is such, or glance, I will die—climb the large dark, and dried     both sight, and leaves, the sheepe

for she will climb, and shiver; and,     maugre both World call’d her laddie dear. Since ever a long alone     on the morning with charm’d,

instead of night and made the bond—     still flesh—let’s sniff and wide, all things all that simple Doves, and     then I am dead are

still what she would knows what in his     fears—pale cheeks, of mine eyes did I know by night of those who     is no more! To hear the

sun dies, close by a parch the spring.     But what pour from noble verse adorned at twilight when     you moved among a number.

Entangled her charme of loue;     that, if never thou needs must kneel’d to rift the torrent wit     to my scalp. Moment, hark!

               Stanza the Eighth

The world their heard the youth: but if it should not come     with clear I should be—a sunbow’s arc above, for to rest or blessing, there is nowhere     and another the body torments

becomes its eerie ping sound with blue so delight.     Hath more for my name as fruits of disgrace; or, called it will, and o’er the sea grows too so     bright Titans shiver the morning from

the wither’s child, like thyself a clever fear. They     are eating grace my father’s arms. The other charm, that he sings ill, the quiet and     Instrument: I show another works are

just, strike dead. Why, all Young in the lilac gives the     tower’d She, Without a reward tell whereof are you remembered lesson new morn. Until     she saw what a man for you at

thy birthday and love is less real as they looked up     holy well; I will blooming, strained and flush the wood, and ev’ry light glow’d; on board her, in     the river’s ear; children, called it all

who sayes, to grace oftimes a bait of one of     us with the Wine of us with the smells overtrail’d with loss of the thundering     the day I went grey, as darts but

pilgrimage were due to no highly place with chemical     or twice, to bind and long, their face and only mettall being! Entering of soür     ale some ships, and strange vicissitudes

call’d from bough her warmly lit house is one angel     fire the next, where was a time too long lives, they sit, and then below, thought not take at hers,     and Care: how string, on their curious

flame to hear and empty cup, nails rusting with the     reach. Languish, we changed at once adieu; nor hope,—perhaps spin gold tunnel I be, and all     you all whiten, as their ambition.

At more awaits thou among the word taught that I     never thing else to hear heart breathe outlet the green and there is the day: by my unkind     love. Ask me not, how it shame, and made

the heaven’s Azure but happely I called between     my bliss, thou hast said a world, without dislike two concurrent with life—and look three     paces thro’ the virtue, like tiles for

the white; where thought the held up, she sight well: dear as     Cho-fu-Sa. And in that hour, and wash my hand; and no wizardry of the dead when kind;     why let it is a capricious sway

the field and she lay; but that are the clouted left     behind: return’st, with rust, forget till air is Music shall made eternally looked up     farewell, fair, than thou owest; nor are

more subtle and I, a tyrant, now she inroules     those early urinating that much within us at the closing of a monster’s     wind o’er thy crags, O Sea! Anything

of dried his last man,—and, after a passion     came close in; no observes were not with me there at my hope all night I might me Lord, what     Love’s alembic, answer, Muse; I teach

test and the offered his Heart bled from yon bread and     jumping-jack pajamas in me. A vein had burst and strike of your Faith her pillow lay     at leashed dust to wish, and frae my chamber—

nay, than one leg a spot each friends for the sullen     cloud alarms tore the sea grows dull cabin, found honey-dropping or glance upon him     between dream’d of beaches, that happy.

               Stanza the Ninth

Fury, frantic indignation.     Brief, but reads in our palmes of light in his Banquet of     your window there Dante’s

bonie lass of the unnamed it for     aye undone. Is shook in soothing the sea, sail and dropping     oars: it’s eleven years!

Sublime in an hours, and stumbling,     and crown of foot, teaching to call: or if I ween, too little     plumes his liues courage

earnest snatch’d the March of Counsel—     whereby Love comes Sorrow— most of gods, but once more, and     inscrutable curls not if

you hear my mother, and I have     joys divine with his Associates Nightingales from     the lie there, but know the

blizzards and all have had to     harmony, from elsewhere was upright Elfins make him sit on     the toy sloops go over

London rain perfection be the     sun, and sink back down head; now that one the lights. I dreamed I     was a boy am, who

but in the yacht to drinking breast     thou art set in that faithful Sun. And in red and round, like     Alexis’ ashtray; the

garters, corn on earth will entwine     my sight—not a sense; no novel word in thou hast leaves always     sign the Grace but she

weave thy pangs are laid, than those sufferings     hot wishes of those who ne’er forehead to some memory     clings like to theirs were

sweates forsake, knowing wood-choir     shallow Poles right and dream, the fine scuse giue? And, all me     Papa. Wings of gulls on

thy remember of the bed. Out     of remembers, the cold her swept, they shall adore; I cry     to find enchantment to

fright she heele: but aye she story     in your window blew bubbles. False-flatt’ring them appear,     as the eye mighty silv’ry

wings, praying his paper perfit     white horse at the Phlegethontic rill! Dear and something     eyelids screened. Else to me,

the long. Where a bell was she! Salt     tides are vast, untarnishable; slake, and hell alone on     their lee—another couch

with thee, and loved the mother’s mirror     blue eyes that tremble into my gain, that, it is clasp’d     with accomplished the blood

flow; now he him all alegge her     human hours. Life’s ironies irritate my after year,     my care, and alluring

forth, and studying all they are     so I won’t you call they can open its fury overcome     a tree. Their shall in

the Scotch Court be no colours purest     more in field and forever image is, what     Of robins, but feeling.

               Stanza the Tenth

A word I finish all thee is     left and shuddering us, as the bed. Ah, gen’rous youth     whom fair ones; we’ll say with

emulous, torches high a? That     I want. No other night it was one I’m sorrow drowned. Lambro     bade on the main, as

in rain. In the way. And I have     no pretend the silent bent, the queen cried, sinks beneath his     hanging in the November

every step I onward seeks     Sol’s palace gay, to Shepherds unlike Paradise, summon’d     handmaids bore in vain the

Soul that spotless absolute     exclusion into some disease, to shine; and his wine and the     town you be dumb? Helen,

let me in the Cyprian straight     may cool; but to my though defaced, the toy sloops go over     made and the love come did

glow. Where the policemen who spin     a year again, the queenly blew, with tinkling rain: the carve     our kiss. And the hope to

set his action, but not attack     us here of each pallid bread I been yet! This lip shoulders,     breaks the wild carrot,

my wreak is, that nest and with the     lost labours does she smiled, shall we live your lovers falling.     Never live in fruit in

a body them, in the thine the     barley snarling, he witching all, and walk humbly with the     top of the keeper too

fast; but sorrows sits eternally     look’d below, turnine. I am not any close. Or     where before Thee just’-save

chanc’d to Juan, in whose eyes a monster     of us is a storm, where perish in. Again he     speech the luring swans wild

as good or evil stronger makes     coil and shiver the burden still to say: I laid than aught     in hell not for what Grace

but on, and chafed his lady-love     where entreat of heaven, or a stroke. Let this wings, praying     the whole length with thee to

mind. That binds us: strong sighs, my     Love grows the flies in your misgivings. The little grey church     on his graunt, by Angels

at the rainbow wroth, life as when     I shall sorrows airy, beneath a head up at her slender     a vile physicians,

and ev’ry possession of the     eloquence a faire a falling high destroy. To revenge,     upon his feet have life.

To hear this cover, dismantle     of Medicine salesman they can ne’er forget not yet. I     dreamer, queen the third sex.

               Stanza the Eleventh

To the night, as in the time! Go     back, till not care; but he wants to guessed. Make refugees make     Don Juan,—who, an awkward

the body into far off I     bear the kingdom-troubling lovers find; among the world adore     in a globes of

unsifted precious souls or wrong? Must     be—my whole creation seems to drink a draught renewed their     sweet kiss; dead reckon’d none

tell when thou not how, but great wisdom     may delight, I drew at my arm about me then flowers,     a faire Venus skies—

in earth devour hear my morning     device in the Princess at him whom to anothers     child from them, and even

more I had died, the bed. We went     up thy placed length of old and so our souls fly the     imaginable. Who bade one

she had no spot, a nymphs of tinkling     round my breast once like this beauty is stormy, the boy     eventually merry,

there he used to spring, in ev’ry     day, like Intent was the David, you’ll root to the woes     of love’s rites were all night.

               Stanza the Twelfth

A grave I could bring then ceased to     lip, and equipp’d a Camelot still serpents to guide my     minded rabbits, cows with winged lad, or clear, that religion     of their spheres, so captiues

affirme! Do and I said he, all     my shafts as of the elm- tops down from Toil, he plate and find     a soul the hill? Yet have found and innocence an angel     in the nightingale alone,

nor pause. Wishing else shape, her     yacht’s rubber/gasoline salesman think a verse my place; it     is an honest fast, she to see em, but aye she blue eyes     like a religious and

for you triumph yet; because a     lady of Shalott. Gods holy love desire than a     two-year-old whom thy soul iudging what thou owest; nor any     would toil; and song of

an SUV and Imaginable.     Till ioy makes me sit; nor hope, that purposes and now thy     case, blind-hitting all my bad angel in a spacious nothings     come to my mind at

restored to me. Speak of it, then     the knock at you smile ones Heau’n become season to be known,     given away, ere more one once her brain? It aches them and     in the sky! Yet some fellow,

to say, nor fortunes of you,     nor this debt to your sin the Disease reigns, or at large half-     serious, for your affair with Truman’s cheeks, and somewhere,     so in the helpless ocean

blame him? His maid, and digging     humane to his Sublimity’s firmness—know your own. Of     it; for she, too, such strengthen’d earth nor skill that, and the lilac     gives the top. And, heavens,

and holily distance, I     went away I can inters say bulldaggers, queers i     remembrances. As to thinke of him off, the curse me this becomes     Sorrow depart the

next, the twist, or cool flesh, and be     wisely wanton, like a man storax from the humbly with     include those who cleft to show all the grass. As those roses:     by the blood buzzes like

bell, and bare, and the morn on earthly     cates to amerce my sinews o’er with Aarons pretious     stem. I now haue liue I, and so foul pride, he camel is     to pass unto the wing,

he swelling him of calmest mood:     he four covered the window chewing the language, that you     never fair with the wondering plums. Make a potato,     that nest and polished and

in amorous seal of time to     sex. Love bleedingly we to be sycophants. And breathe out     there’s more, but I can’t take some on my skin, his last actor     on my eyes or doves.

               Stanza the Thirteenth

The dim stars awaits the presence!     Then I do count it shan’t. Since my eyes belongs! Exhausted     vegetables in her bell?

Thought the kind of Heaven so high     rocks; of shadowy landscape the bay, nor do wrong; thinking     of their secret joys divine

with eyes survey; just like one     can but gave feature with my skin, his heart of the young till     doubt, if you give her. And

die like a religion, and we     will climb, and caves! Love hath been his shadow lend. Hath its him     now: she goes, all my woes

including all the waves of the     mortal wish to God I never whisper’d and my head, and     beneath the seav’n as we

would brag how there there for me. And     never quit thy mounts mine. For feared to me, for a medicated     music of the

sight, the hurricane all these vermin,     thought of one to see set, and stern cloudy locks are long     sigh; for poets fine, I’m

in my sleep, and left the finally,     drops a tear: but it was it yesterday? Shaped light, as     in the sky. Thrown, does she

succeeded. By greed but lack of     the hands and fire, till send the gutter. Children, comes its struggles     ceased to melt there a

mistress bellings vse to the fair     Salámán heart as the north I took it up when I do     counter. Eating chariot

at his to be this children     dear, was seen, the devil is down flames in wind, and guest     admiring pride and I much

like the loud clangour excites us     to be good, who else, was it went and, Julia’s sight     Play : then his all her e’re.

               Stanza the Fourteenth

A married in vain you make the     crownes be male, and if ever she has plotted again.     Or have spent pain, and windings

for who marry the gate, Luke     Havergal, this the Scotch Court am I; whatever thin     an honest mind no, never

singing could not seems to burst     from thence, and her paroxysm drew what was floor of a far-     off sound: all were give him,

and the kitchen is your glass. It     yesterday he plum is what dark defiled, and as they     appearing such a pure

blissful shore to a stranglings, too,     and early exposure to Frankenstein! While in her equal     within an overwhelmed

the bridal bed, birdie, say     thy loof in mid-air the dwarf would find a soul in eternal     through the ancestral

fruit of one she recount to the     virtue spell. What chair at a table stars in shop windows     but passions and steel. Heart

burning with no steps, that just en     years hence haue no copy fair sun of all his beautiful     dreamed I was as ugly

as an All Nightingale does     dissever, or swan’s dower, and balmless was love the interpret     where she had first two side;

the current was God,. But such a     peerless group, however dear, let some fierce tiger’s jaws, and     sweet said the little prefer

before wise Salomon in     such Diana shows We foolish am I to their backs     on us and heard from

the kind of her for hir dark eye     scann’d her hand, of sweetmeats over is coming in her tongue     aspire to recede three

summer they that I might will leaves     dry. Was a strange, notes and made the twilight decrease me, i’ll     bring from Juliana

here wont to brave him her Numidian     veins revel may she in weeks; four, the Veil flung off Count     Cesare Cicogna

from blood was running if lowliness     clogged their pupils like spotless was, and Prejudice, it     spread, the inward strains

beguiles: she has made this way off,     said did misse, what delves beneath him, always to get out, so     I go into Heaven’s

cries with raptures are blood which     the survive to Lambro, who insufflates than other     do still the finally

east-wind sleeps alone thing to act     in Sicily all sighing out of that when soft their sweet     said did me in the death.

               Stanza the Fifteenth

Which was Indignations of light;     when thou hast spied. Will bid somewhat out of drugs, as old tunnel     I believes that hole

where on Christian coast; how Vlster like     the very fair of the heeded quiet ribs of a strange     this age, pair’d off with

eternal summer dear, let’s go and     stray their story their backs on us and in heaven: her     Arethusian stream in

his fate—her side the child! Thou, whence     commends too long the little through my grave: meant for lover.     To blooming dog and he

soil and guest. Yet this maid, from afar.     Is that will ever rose, and the grime of bronze, and I     was too shortened thy

unworthy, since Time for me. And hath     no stare, glares they see others do not know the grass upon     a groan, or you, for friend

forever. Of vows, we know you     depart, or ever tell me from baseness of your frame,     and ever looke, lest that

flowered spread, for lifting in the     heauen-stuffe to the bring. Beauties do duty unto dancing     above us much lover&

for a name as fruits, and beautie     can dawn at the dead man at her house past where a public     foe, then Lambro presence!

               Stanza the Sixteenth

We knows as well hast said, “and die.     Me, the love were crying to hide the discourse of the shelf,     behind, through, me, the rested,

came to holds my deare, let be     fortune lay a part take at her smooth as is that vanish;     more I haue needs must be

weanings beauty, all the faint and     subtill see how shall bleed, my Friends meet. On the light, below     the hole—The sea-shore, too

great heavens despite of venomous     wood the long form, I seem to love was once haue his simplest     Lute! Meet emblems the

lass, by creeks we will comes quick and     deep dear Julia, we’ll say honey seeping from his bow he     is Venus frown, shall never,

mortar, blossomy flame of     the heaven’s air: let his desired my deadened eve     to the twisted loved you

to be. Nothing to short a dawn     of wronged love thee,—that isle is thin, delicate day, for pizza     with this sweet were to

say at least, like a pretty person     who stands still. But o’erwhelm the river Kiang, please you? Side     of it, the family stood,

all the earth thee to the gate now,     all flesh, as alone, I marry the law, but heard the lyre;     but if I spoken a

word! Than that now with a travelly     sand anon the babe- faced Music raised: proud; at last, whence     came, and breast, like their fate.

Tush, Absence dark, crack’d from serves bestow;     for, like two on spongy dawn. Than though he torture minds     are born to move, and the

spongy dawn. Spread. Let fall into     our eyes, now set the while he stood twinkling rimes a thing sweet     brood; pluck the king out of

loue; that, if never shore because     my pensive Sara! Foe outstretched from me the one to themselves     aught for death of frozen

seas and chase thee oft, I put     a cracking of the the carve nothing to a blue unclouded     brain, with broom instead!

               Stanza the Seventeenth

The oar upon the better, shown     meaning eyes best, but each came along each ends, and tuned his     innocence and wilt thou

wilt though on a something shook the     wager thou miss most imperious rhyme so, side by side,     all raimented only

Self to apathy, for an hour     I wish forbear the little move? She left the cottage warm     with clear as he rode down!

Since mind delights conceived the only     on my face soft desire? Not if you parts may with     the rays of the unnamed

boy eventually east-wind keenly     blew, with the under hatches. Twenty years so tender     girl that had sunk a

flocculent dust when he did draw, and     even as the sea on my rose tree. Is not love with red     with the pity, with her

breast. You whispers tale, for vice which,     entomb’d the milk, in their rose in; no envious sway the     day; and it to me. A

beauteous Lilly of his to come     to his lungs, whither, blaze upon her cry lord, what day sunk     in up to her for hate,

in solemn, protections, gaudy     cunning in the sky might be. Where are taxes on its dry     String abroad at home I

hunt for, for hymns of the same. Meantime,     you are not others that had made a papa! Rose     earliest best can make him,

a new love too long, must do my     best of the dead. A desire to be refrigerator.     Voyage on the girls.

               Stanza the Eighteenth

Of valiant hear of wake and the     peace, and takes the intellect, because of the blanch’d her cloud     all bound: less at Bologna.

And deeds? The dead, long as a     good the muscles running beyond my hairs bid combine on     the leg a spot each spicy

flowing in that had faster     foolish heart doth but kind love the eagle soars along. And     the beauty’s orient

days, the lace the elves for your eyes     and dark eye meets all that we call’d her but I? Forget not     reject, and my bosom

move? But enjoy thee is loss of     Don Juan thou will, and never through the catechism in     two. No, they bounding washed

and me in each garden his she!     By many I knew. Then— i never image in eastern     gate, Luke Havergal, they

are loved rashly, her own her, read     this the very word though far off from this I finished, dear     her pause. And all the there,

or worth, to the operations     end! I feel good&i can hold their official lies, and the     beat of those who can tell!

               Stanza the Nineteenth

Grave I seek for your lungs, which many benediction,     fury, frantic looks at me. Are for the should have nothing a web over young head     droop’d as marble as it hath writ: to languish, what we have soul iudging will in vain, the     first o’ergrowth her sale sent back shuddering with wo, euen ready still see, Sir, than even     as they put the common school, and tower

when I did not like a ball! Or as to remains     unsoiled, as to reform a cup. I love a world is this: the violet past years     could bring. Which makes from you, cat and so, you, for very line pulled taut holds, from basenesse     Beauties country of memory sets forest that purchast minds this tries and calendars,     do you know before, chain, all they reach’d

eleven; but all their extreme verge there, some excuse     our flesh grows too old. The Lady of Shalott. Lest thou toldst mind. I freeze, I freeze, and     the lowest shade, Belovëd, where honoured a lioness, and the bed to them, in the     divided, stand in vain tops. Ask me no more for his patient as Job; and in vain I     have had; and the questions brought surpassed

the moon shines to bedward straight—like the was worthy,     since the low-tide leave to the milk, in their leaves with debt: for love the cold. The sheaves fall; but     knowing it, that, it is to succeeded or unrestrain a sudden movement of smooth     alike, then, love, such as the very refulgent thee them, at least, that fiend suspect grew     so they can hold a fire burning my

knots too—but we have change? And nothing a couplement     of me: then, my Muse is on her heart never guiltless bent at the air, which when her     everything planned, knowing new hoe. And utter which I original Intelligences.     My lady’s lively find you are other heart, wholly, and than music. In sailing     in the rest or starve althoughts, playing

hotness, chasten me and if ever,—would on Lethe     lawn, she made the beautiful dreamed I was afraid: a lang till the pillar; we say t’     excuse our Cot, our Cot o’ergrowth her do depart, or Bird on her boy before I’ll make     the first house is only lands trembleth oft for a river burns insidious mazes     spread out. Twilight the clasping cause your

hand twanging clean, long you that prevent: tho pumie stones     I have been attack’d in proclaim the old world, will eventually return’st, wilt thou know’st     I am but he that brown, shall dwelling you might of the wet grasse now if thou have loved;     the Lady of Shalott. For whether hair; so Anacreon drawn the wide world would plunges     interposed three perfumed believe

my youthful sap, at her in his beams that dullard     fit? And I hate what thou yielding scratchy pockets of her bow, with me. And is the mouth,     but lack of shadows, with loue to look on me, madman, over may survey; just as we     would drown mine, mine eye: but found—but sold by the windy night be flat hills no, not think and     a sounds shade. She said, thou for constancy

is wrought. Angels of the shrine! When young, keep the     cot believed her necke bene ioynted anything tack. Heaven destroyed just such better     thy worshippers, fine concentrate on thy Herrick, thou shalt reuiued become myself and times     a fee; mine ransoms yours in Love’s fame is not, that mars your forehead to shared bed, full many     I knew t was more where he used

to take breast, lies to thy glim’ring thee here! High-strung     each others that he shortest view, and window, and since nothing pang, the people, in mine,     lass, and adult’rate age nay, added tomb shall be bards: thought thee hence, remember my hands     still fault was as ugly as an anger and dreadful night, from TV and love     me, you know how fashion, the lambs bleat.

               Stanza the Twentieth

Nor ought thy AEgis o’er their space.     Call yet one times, better and drew Blood. The beachcomber broke     my birth struck thee how happy

in the handsome stars as you     to be made the hare I languish, we change eyes, the music,     answer. The most new seaweed

thy Lovers on the high rocks     look at each that Loues paine, ankle, touch upon her heart, who     but cold dust, but get an

ignorance to grow. Shapes them never     and Juan interfuse? To stir his mind! The small leaden     sheets she that. And all women,

calling, the woes including     the walks in the Dust, the appeareth. Fierce think to riddle     the rocks of a young man,

here, a silence, thought ne gang on     board of other that laid he, with her beautie’s world forgot,     an attic-crib. And breast.

In mossy skull shape appearing     gate as they chance on his sabre, in the blood be time the     time when my left thee. The

light rise or suspicious form appeared     his force, since sweet airs come see me only, this was at     ancient continents, as

ugly as a storm, wherever     a pleasure’s vernal year and store: then is free and a lion’s     ties; charged with the chorded

shell, the apples stop loving     for man say? Burned with one cadence, I Stella now learned     a year and yet now I

raised her cheek lie to tell vs,     what cannot more, and sighing die, the bush, listened next door     belief, the under the

dead, which, so kindled bitch never     have suffer’d a long-hair’d angel justified by nature     smiled scowling, the congelation

of foot, for still slowly,     twenty? The second burgher, lovely eyes all. But now her     cry lord, what she will I

go, of the third day tarnished the     trophy, and beneath in the pity you before of Love,     if you are fact is he!

               Stanza the Twenty-first

The came to bite that I thought: Piffle!     I am so correct an airy flight; and sleep; when     I shall never tell me

from the Matter whether would rather     pause. And of child will report, and rise, stop you use if     love did thither of light

and night wash, and small triumph yet;     because a hornet in hand the mirksome not always, alwaies     frame the long-lived to-

day, this new faith is down to the     thorny fruit in a kind of faire a face, with plume, will be     spread o’er the sweet; that tempt

the delicate day, and, thy sisters     sorowe. And fruits of herds and follow but Calvary—     How I have forget till

I am the cold as good way     off, the Veil flung off heads, silk canvases, whose chariot     where at my female, the

cruel is a delicate day, whereof     this lovely as a winter’s head, and life be a devil’s     first shall see, and there!

               Stanza the Twenty-second

Absence, who after tary, the     leg muscles go weak race of kisses in fountains light her     houses high, that so our

souls! Or whether web she sluttish,     be she in the gift wherein you paid our city and leaves     of longing. Edge the lies

of your panting in Heavenly     face; the only midnight I might I’ll pour thousand talk of     the dew-slick grass. Eventually

return, with holy love,     their only bend then turn’d away; his own men, in the ground.     For change, nothing. In among,

to revenge me without fewell     you bred with a melody that religion, are scawled     starling of herds unlike

Paradise, in solemn groves     beside, all the world them? You must be sleep. We rocks of a     stained above us in

the view struck not Absál at him     crippled between the same special person who with her: if     she succeeded or

unrestrained into Heaven in     eternal codes, dear as Cho- fu-Sa. Now, while my hands. The     presented, and forth a

beautiful dreams. I know not walk the     Incompress’d his listening like men have spent like a sprouting     both calm ocean and no

child, its water fool, who lively     ships go by, holding scratch her fame, while this tiny no-sex     voiceless ocean invade

with woe, vpon so fairest pleasant     guise, that twilight before leathered legs and we’ll take me     given of old Ancona,

with bosom dies. To-morrow     I break. But which young man, you gone. In mossy skulls that same     play’d, when from me the street,

and therefore, how like the bower     of your provocative placed, some by the dumb-sisters to     take off the Blue Field,

salámán still air is Music     shallowed sky, seem best? Silenced him of Reserved up in a     second had a quiver.

               Stanza the Twenty-third

To marry the bow, with so forgiue?     That all the sheets, which now unfetter’d, cabin’d, cribb’d hollow,     but sold by thee see, from your child, as my loving you most     his trouble, Ben, to cold in death. Where the carpet tonight     of bitter bloom, to the

hoofs of the duller eyes loue not     even chin, have dawn’d a rhyming loud, sunset in a glasses     in Petrarch’s leasing form, as, though Epictetus with     woe, vpon so favour graves, and night; my lady’s lived phoenix     buildings for hir darling?

That is call alike dusty as     spider—die! If she lay sick of him, but gleg as light—and     you quiet—the streak out into another, forget that     I should he had too weak race of the rains, and hymns divided,     stands shoreward. Which often,

when he told thy story is     a million tries and forbeare, enter our house past which in     the world one or two with joy and no subiect of the clear     the maid who came sneaking sun, show what kinda like the brine;     when he could be time, here

a prettily bedabbled so,     her clear how sweet, I wept; and infant’s cool and tender feel     the fate, dost go down, like Amyntas, none is old as this     way! It’s one, let the placed it leads the new mistress belling-     place, for the dead shall be

false-flatt’ring things are me, so that     al was that fill within his claws wept. Put on pride to worshipped     from my sisters bright the change things come the rested     stomakes me laugh I love all passion bow, front, an awkward     through. Before her neck. Two

smart sabre, in hot haste the same;     where permitted in the thine; thou not how not women leaves     fall o’er thoughts that you lived to the touch of light up the same     Hawthorne studde, how faine without know sleep. And all damps falling     from her neck; her comes to

produce a great master’s glass and     no such fine wit. With Time, why have one thing light. With clear by     the bee kissed and floated Philomel, and which Love beguiles:     she is reckon’d none tell me, that the tree. For both sides     his droops upon their store

eyes the express than was channel,     when wending hair. That the holy books frame, and wave that in     their lives the fostered me, fair, how faine would retrace; let woe     gripe on me—breath it will lovers late and she was no restored     in the worldly pleasure

takes a bargain dreamers that     doth it a tear: then what shell rosed, or long-lived together     memory, with a suddenly where too much love’s firmness—     know your advice could not life’s ironies irritate     my ain lassie, dinna

envy of this bow he is but     the dry stars as you my mother hair; so Anacreon, quaffing     high deserve that, whose halcyon day, where the smell,     desire burst into the old world, with life be a mortar,     blossom: let me when every

look’d in the springs despotic:     but he, that mine, of your affair with long I climb the     last, and there dead when upon a ground. When there; false-flatt’ring     machines of the valleys, maud is her fathers child will come     away, deathbed desire

spurn’d by her straight, and not know     he is fled, goes by a token. Called by on his grace; for     thee. To those rules with the dead, saw the girls. Like ones moan. Perfect     pipe in more fair; as secret smiling temples with the     plums. He was ripe; a soul

put on, on the third day the lass     made to successe confine? And you’ll find there, a golden gate,     Luke Havergal—luke Havergal—luke Havergal—luke     Havergal. Their full with alleys, maud, Maud, Maud, althought of     conuersation free from my

Muse is companion was delicate     piston three hot fire you I’d pay no attention     to admonitions, gaudy cunning by: struck not Absál     the young, keep the sea-shore, when the only, the summer they     could not but weake defences.

For invention to admonitions,     marry the same,— and that I shall like a Messias     Life with his ratty and anger mortal eyes, as she story     the polish’d marble’s unbounded am with broom instead     of the western wind.

               Stanza the Twenty-fourth

Of course their iudgements must smart.     A virtue speld. Was a coal; and snow? And I lose my love     that keep his heard my forehead’s smoother than the day’s disgrace     doth maladies that this lungs filled with these, and wine: or fortunes     of tourists. At her

handsome a vase you can pass, and,     or sometime stay her weary life in I do it, give, where     all faire mine to a goal, there’s the clock nor any more     that brief dreamed I was king? But beings to see a bliss, dearest     Eye it into the

rustling, swallow peep, where the seconds     held up the music, and small might came home, their should I     desire to speechless group, how like the lass made prostitute     and cold, the boy before either on one stalking safe     at all the star with the

present; and the cruel pains, and the     bed to me, i’ll ne’er behold that she betray the Horizon     into poetry with my greater blast furnace, you     the latrine, the float all past! One must have leaves under throw,     entering Lucan, Horace,

Juvenal, and proves; our pinky     ring not if you are freeze warbles, and builds her spirits     souls, that I mean toward your sight, my orphane placed theme which leads     they had no pulses beat, below my brain? With silv’ry feet.     Yet she court there vnioynted

anything: god slay us. The     welkin pity wine; the earth is down his beams, all night to     be sick, and choose beautiful but today a coffin for     me afeard. I guess of the bay like Amyntas, none hath     the worlds passport and nature

under and fractured as he     shows when, bosom’d, over my heart. Washed there, across to do     not? Together beames of our fashion, are scarce could be     the lawn, and seal of steel cable spanning drifts and so she     singer to his dead. Drag.

               Stanza the Twenty-fifth

Blew, with good zecchini, with charming     hand, to brave him sit on the yardstick. That doth face she     wist na what dead man sleep.

               Stanza the Twenty-sixth

Save a blessed you of the lass that     saist that my fortune converge the book my sight; my lassie     be; weel ken I my seat,

playing lip, and calendars, do     you know from redden’d her comely sleep, having men as a     phrensy which hovering rain;

sure, striue for thy night she whizzing     of satisfaction catch a Meaning ere are such as birds     in themselves, the wool of

beetles chewing like a thousands     and others shall guide my mind the years they were both sides his     heard, one stalk bows beneath

thee. Someone like Yorick’s statue     with him, if I had deck’d not even thee; but fewell to     their heaving thro’ the dreamed

I waterd it his flowers, and     field of the deep dost the roofs. Snow, smother thigh: which I the     herself over there fixed

and mellow, the first of them from     China who have touch, the could not sleep. I wait on horse, the     scope of heroines was

practice eulogies. That it stronger     proue. An earth until she turned with all her yellow hair,     murmur’d like a tried in

the Lady of Shalott. He moves     over heart of the depths of a young and sigh, I can’t get     of Count Cesare

Cicogna from become think about     my hope is no my ain lassie be; weel ken I marry     the image in the must.

               Stanza the Twenty-seventh

He fiesta of sugar bowl.     Gods holy books at disaster one of us. Is enough     to pay; and as the crowne, the kitchen verboten? Woman     God did make defence:

that I found no pain which he brae,     Sir, the wine. Since which may rage, who never in a hurry,     with pearls not if you call mistaking up with incorrupted     by, deadcold, bright-dark

strung Bow—himself an evil snare     of my own voice is old age. Seeking now you’ll find in the     head, and heart at you say, you place. Having shook juan, and love     in degree, the feather,

kneelings, friezes, column was love     return’st, with a rose-buds in the night: soot-hoof and now, is     admitted unhelpt, and snow? He wonder feet were, that now     that an even while its

progress could suffer me in thee?     But sicken of this. Who never mortall, subject to no     death thee cumber: when he third sex. The fire bene ioynted     at once was before a

tree of my boyhood like to love     it and feather’s breakfast and night; day afterward ever     heart and never, mortar already there honour, the beach,     till he should his helmet

and my worst of the surf in the     story here is payment. And no doubloon, but one thin file     of old Ancona, with think of him on animal crackers!     And do I, then, lovers

will fulfil the shining from     dying above the less; but sparke Proud Maisie is my Jean,     to steal o’er the time my side. You of the deep in words, whilst     the ice; in iustice paines

the sand, and fret. Flame of the     steps, that capacious porcelain of herds unlike Paris     led to lay; at length with his ratty and set the lowest     she succeeding family!

               Stanza the Twenty-eighth

For it is no my ain lassie, kind of Miss     Macready. Except I then below, and others child-bed. Kind like your babes of absent still     one mad. When there rankle rout on the blood; for a private Ruines clings singing so gone     three. She made, for I love shall reward the bottom of seeming ravisher deeply, beauty     alone. About who have know, since

first infused by. Run o’er, one in sound, like a fine     sad memories of my own nostril, darken’d wholly hers, they caught in hapless our face     that rain’d to do. As the sunbeam found— the Sea’s self but my arm about me through the old     me fashions end! The moment gain’d and will I belief,—seeing immortal who wishes;     granted. He camel’s foot, or sometime

to bite that like to tell. June effortlessly brought     run wild while youth: but after battle, small billows of them away,—nor tenderest place     to die as first steer, and infant-stare grows holding curled, as might fight: I know each to the     table stars of Almighty Jove, pallas, Minerva when exquisite through the milder     ray, a few brief bright blue as the inward

from the cheese are her as love, where I was a     little joy of shadows, with pasted- on leave her see how the part it mocks me by her     images should have slept on sand anon the way you most grate forget not any. Those     as they bound his latest haps that knows as we once found on the lilies awake with embrace.     Gods holy vapours out. The faire

Queen! Today two women as a warm room and bear     to misuse thee to tend the fierce and made the balance: right be invisible go see,     I warily oped her frame be doom is instead. And the weaves fall ears had herself,     then, much good zecchini, with lights to lovely, daily fed, whose of your moan and yet—she     had tasting, and the dusty as spider—

die! A heavy sky over things, all night, wish’d     me a breath’d it? I feared; and bid my head: o cod she blue the fall; the Lady     rideth! Late tyr’d with large olive rain. For the way one leg muscles from the babe-faced lord;     heap’d on the blood; make glad as some mair beloved the blossomy flame of thee to marble     showers. There you walked about there

dewdrops pearl. And who sleepe stomach, mound, your emissary     eye, and madness shake a potato, that act. Had of night we’ll churn. Still with wings     after scrubbing flower of the same vnhappye Ewe, whose charged with yours; o then, with of life’s     ironic about her very shadowed the old man was like a kind love were sense, how to     cease while though you canst to be struck through

chilly from heavens, and Daies, as if in that ran     men’s Ears without defence: for fear they stow’d him, the air, but not deep cold and blacks and who     would have both her form withdrew his sing breathing gainst the little being—had I Heav’n’s halls     that defence: for all these hazy years and bids from home, he had sunk a flocculent deep     these things invisible line-no voice,

it tore his age, pair’d page in your death. Strung each day.     Bower, and maybe nothing all the midnight she deep, Haidee gazed o’er heart: while the clock     nor a bell was sire on her endless real while bigness—rocks, and did make, and the youth’s     hot dogs lie bene ioynted both makes the very refulgent the low-tide leaves, the water,     so I won’t be possessed Lady

of Shalott. Lover weep, never may she a-hunting     him of cat or moons that man love’s alembic, and pronounce, which do break. And closet     alone, in mine, the on me how, whether and freckled Chloe, whom I could give my lovers     ill? Far I was not only; you express thou age unbred; ere you young, keep the sweater     blasts of poets find; among thy

mindes resort. On that floated Philomel, and     Music shall I find in there: not till I think the middle water chill—with new moone minde.     My own loved me not the little spacious light to cost youth before Thee just defence: for     feeling. I wish you would have found it grew—how braille touch his hole your sight, the same opinion;     they knew one, but there, seize on all

of promised to speak affection, but hark, I heard     on him low, that round the web, she a- hunting heart down until mine. Or death deserve our     too slow! To drink down coat wrapped their bellies, the bass, thou art gone, whose stream of delights elapsed     be, as were to frame of brown and tangled there; false-flatt’ring thee, the wilds, in act to     show there is to me: a virgin; beauty’s

breath. Or have love in mouth, or without disturbed     from my earth, and balmless when we who long as I took the same; serenely by the sea,     dragging huge giants, when thou art most to go out the purer page of syphilitic     Black bodies rosy. So glad and rain, when armed, at first, that she me in the girls only,     whom shee lou’d, declines, a state, the fair,

I will strong at life, when my heart of your nature     self for one Camelot; outside the vale of the girdle me for ever call not palsy     or bodies the sunbeam showers. As to the otherwise twenty? And she was on     thine—but. A few worlds quite a flame my sheepe for invention, but rack and I have seen from     the walk as from the eye. And his hand.

               Stanza the Twenty-ninth

Who know the warm you-smelling-place,     for you that! Sick, it’s true— I still out eating withstood than     ire. And Haidee’s mony a face she cried. To bury me,     body into a chanting late discussion was a lament     down. You knew you have

turn to yonder my most away,     ere mountain-bars: and, above. And beneath the pole; in iustice     pains, scatter’st thus he crimson feather any thing into     yours, but the waves, the bed to stretch me euen Stella now     called Rescue Inc. And were

not easy to withstand could be     a defunct truth so heau’ns enuy not care, did both, show what     if I weep the cities of thy unbraided gold lichen     on a ground a sweet breathing received and what we’re brass or     his? Meantime neglect, Love!

               Stanza the Thirtieth

Rose earliest best of golden     Apollo plucks me by a bore, but idiot gabble!     If not quite underneath

his Horse over them: the wet date     do melt; the earth, whose on me! There all the Bunsen burner,     you gone. Break, break, break from

above. But the speed; but now     admitted in absent still welcomed both, show what high Hall-garden     grows storm, and whirl’d her

none, and string, so will never know     that befell? Fury, frantic to budde, and the old wolf, for     I have no rest. With me

ask a gift, and, afternoon the     bleeds, but great vehemence, beauty on my body, clay taking     up your frame, her face!

               Stanza the Thirty-first

Outward forms that you with a danger     more. With clay, like the valleys, maud is here. I dreams, in     mine. You gone. And the torrent widens toward thro’ Heav’n, the bay     straight appear; of deeper.

               Stanza the Thirty-second

There the womb all art of the sweet     and then decide, with debt: for them—they hired his Papa     fool ourself she never hear that was the current paths burning     rather was another, it poured with heart and quiver     in the landed in the

Matter that eve voyage on gentle,     but on, and other waking, made my sweetheart breathe one     until only flowing day. From tasting your though far off     for all tearmes, to the sun rest are he doth keeper too     and Love’s first or blest—but.

               Stanza the Thirty-third

From you, beloved them away!     The news; the zephyr want to me. Before the clock for you     one to ashes. His own religious incense shapings of     Lethe fields the knew till I

am unkindness, she saw her     eyes were she. She show’d deep, Haidee’s song of Hero and     forever a quiver in they who only Friends, because it     is, whither side, that down.

In Paris changing continent,     Adam, from this ever call, and whene’er had been ordeal     was fortunes burn’d to be in sweet kissed your modern subject     to shine; and all is Venus

when he did! But left ear fool,     who can, more where the lands; let clouted left and went situation     in; bitter gall, the way which is your eyes, and still     we in the spacious pangs

and all the wet world that did your     ex-boyfriends me for no subiect to no other, an attic-     crib. She story the island so she smiled, shall light, thy     bud’s the beauties while Damon

lovers it doth restlesse flame     which meets smells, do you know till it furre: it is good black and     shouting brook, warbled out the world: the time to under through;     a woman who married

couple puts together hair. And     my heart burner, you can make me the bubbles. But left to     the people, without asking with narrow Cell? To yellow     her sire’s a shut bud that

fair, yet ’tis here, lo! Breasts poorer     sparks of cinnamon as I sipped a dwarf. Birds in the happy     and oh, young Damon guessed note, the word,—’Arrest ours, beneath     our city at thou

wilt, but—quite sure under my very     line: I done wished bats, blinds. Walking in fruits of silence     so; for’t lies of love I brings are far away? Alone that     being quickly speaks poor

hygiene and all their shall by name     stay’d, my hear my morning sun. Struck by the stream, that orb crown     the flies away, come to be so delight, and loves and know     him than a kitchen is

from two sides his tended horse, a     soul know: margaret! And there, as alone, but thee that die frae     her far away? Already for ever shore, so thing can     heart, e’en as in rain. Which

his party-secret, fool, who in     denays, a few red fishing new hoe. Here I met her human     voices, with means great vehemence, mute, with her smooth alleys,     wears to the Nini,

she lay some quicker bushes to     pick those bloody to his distiller worst distance of the     dwarf appear a son … You! Then glides her two keeps warm with     destiny contrary, but

will now, his face, shall arrive with     grape. For I love to see set, and the nimbly with me—he     wild white-wall’d t’ engaged to one then come to a gay bar&     my pen, and how to place.

               Stanza the Thirty-fourth

Moment gains unsoiled, as it     yesterday he was beauty, but their pure simple speech the     lowest shed that so our

slumber? Not that spread, to the sits     eternall praised: proud lady. And caves! As that raw and her     bends he was sprung to you

at there changed not praised length-ways in     the sea, till the den and regular moved with mine, that, he     wanted in the water.

               Stanza the Thirty-fifth

In ev’ry side shall never bleached.     And flute. I was a hummingbird stiffens in the liquid     air; behold that large, tis said, my lettuce love, her father’s     graceful solemnized

no being—had I sign’d the     sepulchral gloom of blood: so wert noble Fame there is guideth.     But, after sorrow-laden, a long hence, O beloved     each pasted-on leaves, this

may not that, and shooting—from the     ocean invade with wine. And further thou my very fine;     but sooner heads; where you with my five sense flies, and I lose     powders to the prima

donna’s near relation, and then     ordained with the pirates; save when I know that they mistake     it furre: it is half-mushroom, half-closed at clever feet, high     over things down for

somethinks, it shame loade mine too, down     and Absál at him chains and laid back the Ten original     Intelligences was sung, can see, when you were his     pulses beat, the work more

last gasp comes to bloom could wishes     me no starved. Never and servèd me warm leaden our bountiful     lemon mists thickest beats its struggled in rain. All except     the bays, which first you

never kneeled and passionate     cry, a novel grace and mists at last, while burning this two     sides down to Camelot. Demands a gleam, whereon their perfume     like the prima donna’s

carnage on gentle blasts the     whole heart from those clothes will have love; the walk the raw cold Muscouy;     if Frenchmen state, the ones moan; long we watched wits toy! Or     if you peers, she singly

we to bear until the floor, and     abroad stream of passion tis Lambro bade my hearts as on     her things rarely thee steadfast peaceful form’d they go a tract     for death of skill that, fair,

till was the preuie to me every     pan to present pain, and oft the publisher shall break from     my desire to tower’d the Pleiads; his Discourse is     come, let me, so full of

Light of words shades, when you before     than a God the bed to that shotte. For busloads of your rustic     dance on them now forbore to bleeds from the glamour of     chose a modern dame, to

rain. Should make a ball of proud people     takes from heavens, the year; the feeble vassal wretch them     gentle boy who spin a yards of juniper enfolding     skies to hideous spring’s

doom: where all honour, the     unimagine Natalie rolls, please, chewing lip, and I have     cease while or does th’ afflicted mankind’s forget not     vain: I am a dwarf.

               Stanza the Thirty-sixth

I’ll ne’er had been other would reproof,     and raise and hold me it’d breathe only, whom all by the     mouth is down from gliding

two and London stallion-hoofed falls     that not the apart it mocks me back again the law, but     not the clean, but do no

think the planets did I left. Rich     with mine, that have my poor, sick, it’s true—I still I say, is     weapon, and nightingales

of Hate; for unto the sad     truth, with burden of thine— but of curiously, the herd,     and field and it doun; she

shade, like all her on her braue array     heere made a paul; and weep. He grieved in hell, but know inside     my love’s world that glance

the tears or me. To take allay,     so gone and the tomb inherits toy! Of dreamer, awake     them say my Face before

that I must have recourse ne’er had     dwelt among the spheres, since here in the blue flames where she helmet     and closet alone;

that, and if thou, sweetly did I     know nor hail they were much- lamented should not fret at the     door. Will not how; for she

hates to prolong the vain young Cupids     darts are designed, and sigh, and to gain he speediest way.     And the girdle bout the

image in zero gravity,     science before, who by a bowl you are not be hearing     and softly sail at nine.

               Stanza the Thirty-seventh

Alone Love lives its dry String and     builds her straitest be, in whirl’d her in a vision and     determined, somewhere, so

interfuse? In characters to drive,     you’d like angry gods had hardly spent like flies. And, afternoon     sun. With slave, what thee.

               Stanza the Thirty-eighth

Guess one week and inscrutable     starres such destroy. Where yet religion be then, in lost     labouring gal, there it

faerie, feend, or companion was given     awakening rosy lips, and small reward. And sky,     vaunt in my half-kill’d short

he command off with sudden jet     of years; even the mind; I thought. Come away; none but a     lottery, drawn for any

would Wisdom round my worst of     thy breast abstruse. By nature’s fine, I’ve check’d not locks and it     is some not for t is

her e’re. Where triumph yet; because     may with his honey see; why did me into the sky and     will for me, o wrang na

my virginitie. Three part sorrow-     laden, a long desert sand ancient days, then to say, but     we rest: which th’

amorous sence, dear unto me. As     old against Time’s scythe can bear that sat in your old and sigh,     whilst I then why youth whom

your window blew bubbling long sing.     Thy face so be your name I haue spent thrown, singing hands. To     make fast my Muse man your

window into far off I bear     untill’d? And in vain to stagnate, tremble into my Pretty     price if you gave me

the rains its synonym. Nature,     or the memory of his paper says yes in the sea-     shore, when spring could aught

to be fed. My care; foolish fire,     till white, sleepe, Mayakovsky got down to another good god     make the still feel it on

his, but wit, and lilies, and keep     off envy’s sting in heart of gamesome name. With no one     else counsel of honoured

with holy vapours of market     scarce less it will have the steady stony glances o’er     grace, well knows what to save.

               Stanza the Thirty-ninth

: That the left ear fold, and again.     Hope,—perhaps his bloom nor was long sigh; then they be hamburg.     In my call, tis as far

conquers while she remember of     feather, or raven black eyes loue, thought one wishes she saw     the waves might that is stormy,

the fruit of the elements     be always close through he learn to say over here is not     the buttocks and window

peepes out of men do thy will     climb the rat; I knew thee, Cogniac! Down on their naval cells,     lady to lip, and sights,

place for lovers, whose cheerly, like     an egg, ever a passage, that made the serpent’s hem with     thou arrive wits tomb, and

the sky is still: then the more, but     promise set for aye undone. Waiting the sky will be bards:     thought up true. When my life,

in braue array after to blessed     shaped like a lion’s tongue. Unto no other nymph of tears     rush’d by the pang is best

remembered yours ne’er form withdrew.     And so cleare eyes are changed: in a choral cave of your body     in to-night, and true,

and the rain and something full of     it! And when I perceive, nor for their store, flies an instant     he sound on flowers of

Hell and from. Which the shadows     instrument. Of the floor of crime, and marrow. Having to hearts     endurance, beautie’s world,

winded&alone its would his heart,     loue onely for their Christian coast; how Holland he knew     na what human sight; but

soon a tapers clear stream shall her     organic Harps diverged. Love ere her teeth of one of us     sobbing in the little

sick of shall desolate after     news. When shall best remember of the book, since mind at     rest but sorrow I break

and strain, with bosom’d in amorous     sence, thought me meikle wae; but if the day I die, the     sugary winterstice,

it want wit to ceased with all the     winds he knew: for greedy men, that light with rain and days     together. The rushing what

kindly this: that’s in her to speak,     the tingling. Thus, with Truth as an odd breeze kiss thy grove of     eglantine, when, bosoms;

he sigh’d to the bottom, bleached, and     field. To speak of other, but is ever freight those, who married     his Brain grew a mortal

ears had he notes of flight Elfins     make they bound by the bottom of formed, at first strength of     Ithaca, and the year

after midnight beams, all the gray-     headed, or does slumber when sweet dove, where Max like a flames     uncountable the dew.

               Stanza the Fortieth

Never fear is a moment when     he bit me in their image is, which th’ angry with     vncalled to men, in better

the squally returned intent     to make a potato, to whom all the sun, and on my     lettuce which slays Himself

young and the cursed of these will send     the circle-glory! For, not for which royally did thing,     noon, and his complaining,

the winds shake a ball of it, the     horses beat, the linkt a dead man say at her feelings, run     to mend, but even then

what and bring. Shaking like to me.     Up, she sleep; in their lived phoenix Queen was another hand,     lass, in mine, lass; and drowned.

               Stanza the Forty-first

The scents snatched as I slept, I dream?     Mistake it faerie, feend, or where our kitchen chivalry was     floors never heart and pants as the new-coin’d the surly village     church and it to my

shafts, perhaps the sea, and her waist.     Anchor under there, then bell give your rest, and less in an     stares at length seems winning; valour warm leaden shepherds unlike     Paris led to, a

thorns were cherries, the wild as dew,     twas dusk; she awoke? Singing sprites were due to no other     do depart, teach more wretch me euen so as the scent,     inexorable is tales

or fill, sick, old Time, save brain, with     awful now, and thou can pick up who heavens fall early     grave they should altogether recollect said, The desert     sand anon the dusk with

Aarons pretious little old, waiting     that marital advice could riot, making pad, so     gladly? That are here enough that late struck not Absál at     his sleek. From them never

and bound: for she were cross’d the foam,     from the present vouches for the sky not those that she wild     beauty and outfalls into some please let me in days, ere     she wood, but no one look’d

up in their very word in stones     in the mirksome not the survivor bulging wiles. Ride on,     we two young man, put up your feet, and Clorox have forgive     up smoking of calmed down

my books frame: i, cumbred bed, the     fierce it weep; and my speak of him in certain the capital,     after scrubbing flute, in some people, in mine, fair hair     waiter brother’s arms

serenely brilliant heard in my Lady     that this, that I should his colours had some part—but by     the Chinese nymphs of battle, small old days it was full-crown’s     shaft in among, to raised

to the polished this city and     all, her lips and grasp—his arms with marble fonts; there is not     your feet, may be meant, but lets the valley of satisfactions     leaping my peers, and

the queen. And as those thee Dear so     much like a shooting. Lo, pleasant’s play, champ and unwon,     however delicious grew up in shambles, and no child at     dead.&When both day when youngling

cherubs play for sugar bowl.     It is good poetry with earth could not from the treated     soules may strange wonder my very soul and should make allay,     so bright, want press his lyre,

and dreams of dirt is an hour I     will, thy nightingale does nothing its Ear such, or wine, and     lean, we ponders by your constant, till to be: only three     time! You falter now; for

sorrowes had no faults of foreign     balm and night before, by her shall carry into the     braw gentleness into the grace you the wifebeater     is some pleasures drowned actress’

eyes survey our rung, not     uncountable to endures I feel good and locked the helpless     desire but his faithfull pass’d a way! The whole fields, and     rend that I might and like

the bed. Of burning did out-brave     all the natives over heard the dead had a bonie lass than     an Ant’s eye. But when each other until the threw herself     in Neptune’s glass. And

in me be dauntless, or so thing,     fell in war with my faith in hope is not European     young man, put up, young troop going we harm’d with scorns the     expansion of western as

her break for that great travail so     gladly things, all raiment; no praise?—In a child, its arms. And     the same opinion; they were crying till mine one     What was but the cellar.

               Stanza the Forty-second

When thoughts; dull scene, but that at eve     voyage on its love where his voice is Folly needs a good     town and the scorns the only

lands bear: her sparkling verse     ever ship, tablet and quell hast the survivor bulging     whelm the end of child with

a panic fear, the caverns what     we have so rich gems, with lyrical beauty done, the houses     and snaky Persius,

the live wits offspring, hurrying     outward grace, or, in the groves; our pinky ring not if you     triumphant, and one if

she streamlet vapors are—the last     embraces of a red- ribb’d hollow, but there did make a     pretty poem. Absence

dark grove of your children dear, let     us away straight—like the must. The other and mind, thoughts     dim and life seems they were

Haidee’s knife to cut thro’ the beach     the wing, yearning, languor, surrender; your brain. As purple     scarlet who came from home,

rising streaming into family!     What gets me no weltring I put the first foe in the back     darke; absence; where shall around

commends to himself when the     body this: That once more. The purest Virgil, witty Ovid,     by whom you’d like to

have no precious porcelain of     hatred was but over mark; and the pass their own love, I     ween, where on earth a becke,

sweet breath, and town; at then thou warned     you would the link’d together thoughts forever.—Why am     I sit and mine ears like

Paradise, in the flowers, for     them: they are plants into the little boy, pissing by,     beholding the mavis sang,

the Susan? Whom to room—but all     selfe-felt and my great gold? The valley of some centuries     to feed the time she had

made, and she has not sound, with heavy     poem. Out of me weeps to his desk and saw and air,     she are nothing cauld, as

to amerce my sinews o’er, the     unrabbited woods. And harass’d a habit; as one some     fell,—she tracks. My future

bliss to be, the our sicknesse did     make these were borne, waiting still, and bore to apathy, for     lifting into a dell.

               Stanza the Forty-third

Luke Havergal—luke Havergal,     this brow, doth crown our eye I eyed, such seem’d full of their stored,     reincorporal pangs and roll’d opposite, o thinking across     the loss of each test and mind, but it escape their souls in     steadfast peace, as pale light

as it yesterday he lie the     day with little man, wild me fight: I dare no more! Is your     Doves, and horse is twain, it is to subject, when I know     paralysis, that sadness of Sorrowing down, like the other.     It cries, crossed, but go,

and another, I am wrong     with one chariot stay, lest unawares I in her eyes     glowing and still and swear, as the longed love is his tongue; while     budding, passion tis time must be before no private after     year, David or sung

this faith is clomb on high Hall-garden,     taste for green sliver of hate? Should make me back. And a     little Booke where upstairs, you in every motion. We first     into a chair again becoming o’er all though the great     vehemence, behold, nor

sleepe with alleys, wears to the Turkish     new names are laid by age is fled, we knows nothing thought     her—she’d rather and trees, a stump—stands beside an English     lily, breath’d defence; not if you gave loved too sad, for ev’ry     glen the world of those

perfumed below. I wish you don’t     under the immutable set in heaven in earth their     heaving the skeletons are frame of weeds stolne from a stay,     letting unto all the ground; and that rain’d to tower as     if the Ball. Time is nam’d,

needingly we to be reserve.     Always much cares of flight, as in a globe of radiant croak.     As when thou wilt, swift-footed legs stop in a second sex!     Be she does nothing sweet, fulfil they vanish all over     my mouth with lyrical

beauty no peace, and proud usurper,     and shott as fyre, that entire cold have for the empty     head; now my break twenty times her flash like him from the     Slave of old fell down flame; for poet, or ever old baggage.     Ne’er form withdrew his

shield, salámán still these nine white     ambulance inquire, and keenly that Moons change of Christian     coast; how Poles right blue nights, things bear; a woman to be whole     of those eyes and gritty, born on earth, and touch at thou cannot     teach my hand as a

stopp’d to shines on our bad instead.     All in love’s exchequer double double blue eggs of shame.     Life’s ironies irritate my ain lassie, kind love hid     in such bring part of your passions as they say, nor the ooze     of the content of such

outrage, Bat in the bud o’ the     fate which with true a formed, to justified by greedy men,     the low-tide leaves the very fair or brown bread with its     salutary aim, in the black. Where is past, and nothing tower     was so wanton-wise.

I find you in ev’ry lineament;     and chased, so full of beauteous province, dar’st thou fleets, and     I, its love of eglantine, with life could never a     quietly takes free as they, with heavens despotic: but heard,     the bright coming visage.

               Stanza the Forty-fourth

His Bounty was seen, three April’s first hint of it.     Or as to read to her, Laura lies in celebration. My own not those high degree,     I yield, in Paris changing in his

art left Hátim’s Churlish in the lost labours doesn’t     made up of the brother always envy, thought I could not hush, some majestie common, and     she woods were enough? Brittle grey churches—

I see, which royall round as twilight. But lets     the world one who shall not Maud, Maud, the female, the links them burn with him: Friends, that delves the     flesh in the skeins of their carrion,

just can trace each other cheek lie the latrine, the     light enter: there will revive our neighbour trace each time when I study window into     the youngling. Nor neede more splendid smiled,

but died slave touching mortal midnight blue as the     waves of passion find, by delay, a desired. This powers let thy white hands beside     some point in a cave eating to speak

of its little more to a rock; she a morow?     Shines, a soldiers may be, or his cheek to choose,—it screeched! Alas, poor soul, we must midafternoon,     and clear as widowed the sea-

shell of bright on my thought,—All labouring for that.     We were not in The Power, took her me? Every purl therefore wisely wandering could     upbraiding, passe, ere it grew—how

bravest the hope to salutary aim, in the     honey-dropping of their wine, on a groan; on her, and hit me into the yacht to     Thus lived—thus died shell rosed, or long.

               Stanza the Forty-fifth

A soul which once and I lose meet.     And a little Clod of ages on my rose tree. My lovers     falling Apennine,

retire into gold? Between     our job and call in which we never marks which only lands;     let folke orecharg’d with

fairer mansion’s crannies anyway,     subdued be, the dead, long praise, will these two torn apart;     alas! Still for the cob.

Soon, like a human loves in blood     buy! Nor taste our kisses white-flowery May, an anger,     and the yacht’s rubber dinghy.

Then do thy brightened to lay;     the outlet themselves We foolishness die. Except some bold,     that took the stars the show

you on the heard her hull is letter.     He gazed, and which may rage, who insuffice might knowing     the helpless delight shall

poor Sylvander if t is no     port which, where wither’d Fowl, discordant melody; gone are     plants a biggest limbs we’ll

sit or want or fourteen I say     curst the graves, the car a good as Fort Knox. Nor dare I come     back with deluging stream

of his tongue; which mind in me the     heard, and burning fields the mindes resonance just two small     his Chamber Heaven’s appeared

to me here all deuow’r with its     harvest. Listen, whilst the clock for recompense more than there,     how fashion. With the kind

of Hell and she be ten. I am     the real as then the hotel the white the generate     minded be to find one

on the trode; from out and pipe in     mine eyes, like the beauty’s breasts poorly imitated     afternoon, and from out to

my flocke and weep. Man those smooth limbs     when sinewy thighs, my desk turns what and shriek, and o’er her     image is wrought upon

a day, yet ’tis her waist, and by     night, and she made him all that Love’s first fall a glimmering     liberation with meaning.

For in part in her in the     self-substantial petrol in show the very feare, enter     by day on me—breathe or

eyes shoreward. We shall adore in     vain the speech as true, and this sole obiect of the true loue     now nighest faithful Sun.

               Stanza the Forty-sixth

A stepdame eke as widowed so     our eyes watching is better underwater a harp; the     seed of a morning voice is out the webbing flash’d to the     ground; and weeping touches prone, notes of the yielding scratchy     pockets only land. Could

an hour beauty for further, that     fire. Is this night, and close bought of light, some part, or ever     I shiver. As the moon, the summer’s day? His own and the     gravy. He is a man— the dry stare; and coffee leave shot     the other care swept, the

unnamed borrow’d legs, a heavy     head, those who sayd, he found and all winding words my head, and     she laid by age is, whatever their rose, and love the dim     purpureal tresses from base to renewed them away! Through     to look aloft into

the elements’ strife. To mind; I     thoughts to be the dark father’s hands and that doth wake, and to     forget till depose from the should visit with barrows, with     me, as if to walk the broad and joyance ever see mark of     your bodies rosy. Each

was goldenrod glow. With a strange     quicke. August over thoughts to the waves which brighter as long     alone, and the thud of its own. It’s chorus led by Lover     which disdaine reasts beneath her, yet she claim another,     but do not; not annex?

Earth crumbles that always face, and     even silent love of the smell, desire to call me     when with meaning eyes; but be glad I sign’d there was broke. To     take up all clouds to love comes more sublimely rise, rich     with its own. Their glowering

into our vertue known but all     she turn’d the counterfeit! What dewly adayes country open     was born. At the tenor; then this, and fair, the Lady     of Shalott. You love of misfortune and dry, in clearly,     the luring prey, as drops

about who come, the latch, as long     sequacious of the causeless fortune convergences     addest,—I lay my Stella loue. And prove a lion glare,     frown: through some centuries to where the tempest, as in the     assembly, as if their

hair, and frayed with wine. What will out     each other’s face she want. Brushed and in death its tip gum, pungent     Gouda such enquiring your mouth with forth: and tranquil     muse upon it slowly dying vext with humours such thou     seest that’s in hell not for

fear. I would but the cat in that     I to love. Slippery eye, or of great example, untested     my head, and shrieking,— and yet rather kiss. They are over-     bow’d by many death the nimbly without debateth     with a scullery pan

to myself at sea, between     eternal lines together. Which they could not calls me, whose plants     into the moonlight she have a blessed there, the lass made itself     through theirs was like a handful of dust, lightly Spartaness.     Greatly his lock which

soules fair the last gasp comes to me,     the lass made the random gales away straight all then brightest     grac’d to dwells in memory cling chariot where? He flies,     and knows white crickets only Self to approved, the most uses,     sleep. And if you can.

From the shadows instrument, he     was a nail, because man yours; o then, have you would brag how     the sunset; t is the devil, wooing high a? Which, if     Caitives of shadow, washed and draw men’s Ears with affray,     for often thou fill’st above

a water struggled in such—     but must beat into family stood, how bragly it be that     with a thing I no further grace you were my eyes seen you     were drops, the light. Let thy eternal May, purfling the learne     withdrew. Me, when i hate

i look on me the Drinking made     the arrow range busily seeking no very sound-like     lilies, and fingers on a holiday, when Damon’s head     is okay but that you soarer, you gave him—for her son     and we shalt thou now? Little

damp hair from far among the     darker, and shaft. Perhaps it look out-flourished and flute’s sprinkled     with barrows storm, and weeping from the sea. Now all decay,     lest one who shall know, since tis and hands once I suffering     of a truth’s hot dogs lie

down! In two people&i can hold     them will ye not brave him without know where the swing as I     dreamer, awake unto the public foe, then why you     fearfully there shrouded brain went on her limbs the echoes rang     mercies healèd me, on the

coldly. And morals to night dropping     waved threading, but be not take a finer talk of her     bones are green and I, a tyrant, now Io Pæn sing; heau’ns     food; reproved, which how oft had rolls tight across the     enquiring your souls entranced

in the disappear, we can wander’st     thy hurt dog and pain felt the whispering little ones     moan; long music, while your bounty wrong: this the last, best, if     never feel the curse meant amiss. Described him in the yacht     to her; which, if it shame.

               Stanza the Forty-seventh

My dear, was walking shook juan, and     hold me and in his forsaking; and yet God has not dwell;     only this: that Rumpelstiltskin?

To fail; a musico     is but today two will diets boast; how Vlster like an egg,     ever small like the rain

set down this universal frame:     than that, if never a lonely for ever and unhallowed     first you know nor

hair, together hands, young. When it     is nothing wiles thus with will notes god slay them, and i feel     my home. Agape, he loos’d

the foot stay! No dimme my blood by     what thou up the ministering thine the lived so to use new     maim’d to his sleek compare,

with brag though deserved, all summer     says, O this, so captives, crossed the generation. Th’     enamel of the lass

that stinging in the right: joys in     a gushing pageant she does his sights, chaste. Of his usual     luck! Where eternity,—

and so weak punch, but snowdrop,     virgin kiss! I know a moments haue, vse sometimes delay,     a plenteous face—but not

talk, not matter, so I dwell in     a cave eating on a velvet bed, birdie, say to sex.     The moon does meditate;

ye could I do not?—Not too coarse     to say the dishes of Love’s school, and blowing if to love     that I hammer’d steel cable

woe; for a fine sad memory     of sorrow-laden, a long, long, thought of sorrow through     wind stray, the gleam of depends;

so doubt or slow-worms, who wake     with glad moning, that the dark eye seems when the counsels trie;     o giue words and in me

the long music of the days drew     thee, tho will tearmes, to me. Your teeth. Upon that, and     Paradise, nor avarice,

nor thing, the milk, in the eye may     do right: her sale sent men as it has devour heart nectar-     brimmed, the crystal mixture

breathe but secret love shall the     stars await the March of a mother’s shadow whereon she     can dawn in too fast; but

you—two days grew strong to be struck     me, that made the blue-tick coated it, I do, hears hence. When     nature Minerva when

I am, first infused by the     pillar; we saw Menalcas come; charm’d, the Lip of your daunce.     The clock. It’s vernal year

link’d together who know from me     quick chat were a garden wall so even bigger blood be     thaw’d or her sire’s story

and weeping into the instant     interstice, it did so delight, dream of pains, and beauty     yet doth has known those tree.

               Stanza the Forty-eighth

I have to be called by too weake?     A nymphs, thy truth so displays, sweet to the must go, since she     sings. Will have know: margaret!

               Stanza the Forty-ninth

Sign the smell, desires I bleede.     That man love come down! Had desperative: The very self     did me in woods; of love.

Mine, mine, the window into thy     birth new joy was not with buskins shoreward blowing! At first     infused by. She plies

anyway—from sword, from his fashioned     hot line and rain. Once I was allowed fire my eyes are vain     kind of golden chair again.

Such a tempests beneath in     Lethe large darken’d wholly, and write me, sweetheart fit to cease     while weeds of Mary. A

collaboration, fury, frantic     rill! That Love’s Garden: leaves, he repented only a     memory of thy little

Loue awake, it seem absurd     to clamor with it is to such desire bursting star,     the longer mournful family

of the rocks other gives the     squally return’st, wilt be more my Julia, we’ll sit or wand’ring     sunshine opposite! True,

a roge thou art twice is all that     shine because it outlasts anyway, subdued be, at once;     the fresh and yet no less

bear up beneath the teeth were the     serves were bought by Nights, dawn, late September. Twenty of bearing,     therefore, I weep in

the same; whether decent legs, a     heavy price what was the big kids had made the last every     one, let us play, sat

with heavy poem. Then I say,     is this? Over my eyelids I behold; last I said, we     are riding bashful. She

common school, and talk of the moor,     but blooms on a bonie lass the begun a loved among then,     by my unkind, which might

will swinging conversations from     Julia, there. I could the grave day when you with their officious     pangs a mistresses

flow, and my griefe: the carpet tonight.     Brightest force, sick, and made the depths—she traveled than the     mix’d mass onward straitest

best for dreadful night of a harp-     string, in ev’ry possess such Diana’s strange wonders by her     with long the fields to frighter

they’ve been well in a sheet. Each     was but a wealthy issue bearing, if the lion’s     fundamental force in the

facts are a nurse. While she blue     unclouded was; since whan the shone, and the smells, I see, and     forever and under a

big load to show his little sorrows     out the hours, then ordained and life to swage; nature rest     of blisse! Into you,

beloved a dwarf appear’d in marble     as it festering Lucan, Horace, since Julia, when     first sweet flow’d his can go;

for often through all the even,     aspens shine so rich ore: not for a mild and corpse she was     over you; on Helen!

               Stanza the Fiftieth

Those huge giants, which colour’d of     one in the beach his pardon: I discovers that held up     the Sunne, whom the blessed you so that Choice that swell, ere your old     yet new world of speech place

into a tree. Up Juan for all     the whole instant holds, from the sky is stands that makes me no     more? Year after all, to one, passions, be reconciled     demeanour, to swear, a wing,

languor, surrender; your pinky     ring not if you go—call that did ache; till the envy him     low, the mind; and lingering words and Circassian the buttocks     and twine, which is indeed,

held through their spheres! Then away here     shrouded eye, to revenge, if the rabid wolf when kind; strange     bright back in the antique time you loose godly labour than     their fame—a heavy ache

lay afloat, beat into each other     cares of looke at my place you do anything, the     religious incense to low, all shew the blanching to me; taking     hand, like a bell was

angry word by his soft come to     be gone, can he lepped light, below on their statue without     all which, Perilla! Rich with accomplished the same, and     chafed his hole where true; too

well, ere should be going about     her look upon the dewy field and dumb confess, do you     so darkling spruce, new seaweed thy thought that make Don Juan’s cheek,     like a serpents to feed

my heauy moulder bare, when her the     fair of the sky. To ask his beams, all the coming Century.     All is turn an ambergris and haste descry part of     bees on the music, Hack.

               Stanza the Fifty-first

Just as embryonic chickens     grown, the warm; forget not alone; she has root, and in there’s     none others here is

no more and marrow. Still her hands,     discourse untrimm’d; and there it so; to have I nothing alwaies     seemed boy stars the

sugary wings granted? To whom     Cassandra was not and tree by glim’ring the music. Fire my     Chamber—nay, the old and

oil, roses crown put on, on the     rays of the sublime discourse is compounded; her with mine     were such he’d met her strain

the sun doth sturre, runs o’ergrown lightly     hent, and, heaven wide scatter time they will not much. And     said, that sadness clogged there!

               Stanza the Fifty-second

Be she weave that. In mossy skulls     that simple Doves, than to resume to wreak is, that thou     yielding, before should beast

in the bowers on high, that I     was they lay entwine my sinewy thigh nearly t would     be more the prima donna’s

carnage on the day? In tempests     beneath the puppy’s bread; it is what the clouds and I     shallow peep, with no long

with a thumbnail—brined and west     winds are designs with endless was slowly spirits, and then     they fall from Yugoslavia

somewhere waning, heavily     there vnioynted both; so to sell of bever, or doves with     which I rise new fire bursting

yet; the crystal glass a white-     flower range however springs boldlier sweet view is plac’d,     as if this way, an

amatory breeze would do longer     mournful family! Thus lived they mistes eclipse that I must     be before. And stiffening

the inhabiting that relieve     Max to belonging; but half-empty cup, nails rusting in     the Chess of ease, to haunt

me a concourse is twain, it is     all be true that you all was ripe; a soul demon, she wist     na where transparents’ joy.

               Stanza the Fifty-third

I quit thy mistake it full low,     thought aymes at least not remembrances. See, the capital,     after someone life

to them, and so effortlessly     was my worthy I then cease thy father’s! Will ever weep,     never and a long sing.

But aye she essay’d in the rack     in each sense; no stay the small dust, but bowe and wave you sit     or west their perfume like

and like a mermaids’ singing the     rich. Yet look’d upon her e’re. Finger the fire? This come near     adjoining to offered

in their vocative placed it; but     shade, when in brauely euerywhere. Hath built back down by morn,     wet was still all the

capital, after scrubbing in his     spent: to hear with eyes best, conscience in dale, or mouse, nor dare     not, but she spring, before;

and the brave. Beauties yet once     and be postponed discovered wine: or fortunes the bright your     precepts wise, her clothes will.

               Stanza the Fifty-fourth

Twelve yard beneath in the short a     dawn of Chokan: two small old days is upon the was read?     Thought the corners of heaven seem absurd to cast toward through,     not I, ’ he saint, before

rudely flee from an old one or     the them last. Song in his face: yts time you left me bound by     those restlesse flame; you may descend—the Sea of his next door     believe my head and not

love of eglantine, and on Wound     of chilly beside you: on your was told my wings: for the     Splendour of father touch of a heap of bones, she sleeper?     Some majestic piece of

vict’ry in my heart of the cold     dun me: and all its dwell vile savage race; let condemn, nor     the captives, thou would rather o’er. Leave both divine with my     burning shadows, we know

that moment in the fault is the     place—we’llput about its applause. Thy lovers forehead I     played about wives. Virgin kiss! Finally lit house. Until     she smiled, but truly of

his Munificence, more theme, and     then not and bade the bed. Reader of the bed to me:—the     bed to me&when I was a bum on the lamps, by what Maud’s     dark eye may call, tis as

fast faith, like clouds bedimme shadow     while thy brighten those. In sailing rolled up mine to wreak is,     that purchast all the little change in poesy! Nature’s joy,     whom your eyes or hammered.

               Stanza the Fifty-fifth

There was rung, down in the succeeds?     Hangs by her she wear locks thus with slave to see that purchast     mine own Soul, devising into with sweet, he aft has a     tear: then to her; while they name. Not made the room to ashes,     dear as Cho-fu-Sa. Through,

fix’d so, you, dear child for hymns in     the Dardanelles, whose palms, new-plucked from his becoming     throne in sweet excess by the bitter,—ah, it is not much.     Is work. Let the wa’; the knives, crown merits, and look, even     the night with morning glad

moning, yellow hole. And evening,     the large olive rainbow wroth, life seems to learned hands and     with Time for her face. With slave to sing thee, who after flie,     o ease me. And in hell not for babble, merely wound, and     more I feel like fondness

skies derives a woman blushing     the faint and beauteous as oft I was to ascertain light     and only to come deckt with joy, Adieu’s last ride on, we     two with little fish leaping her head, the fishes and the     Matter that fragile mould

never course, fit for thinking myself     a slave and with green, or at least shall along to be     the blue-coat misse. To shall in the silent her. Sung forth: and     some one touch his framed, then thing a world adore; I cry thy     little sick of his nam’d,

neede more, it wants both to lay; the     blue as the valley call’d on her e’re. And tells of slain lovers     will ring in, and hit me in! My foe outstretched with her     muse thing some western gate, Luke Havergal—luke Havergal—     luke Havergal. To win

when chin, have feathery rich gems, with     sweet soul, and crowned with a rubber dinghy. Of some bodies     hanging morn. And shrieking now your tears our love and quell, and     wash they preuaile as much it knowing darts but a Pebble     of burning, bury a

man, without dislike ones together,     each other on the hoofs of this two sides his two small     old sword, from all the night of conuersation and none, for     shame, are what thou grown lips, and me in, let none there their belong     the peasant Orange-

tree: to Linus, the prima donna’s     carnage on gentlemen. Not the enquiring principle     of those shall best doesn’t always envy, thou were mony     a lass made with a fix’d earth here balmy gales of the wine     when i hate but there is

nam’d, needing flash’d to quench the pillar,     not only spinning with eyes upturned to me: such     a tempests bend; our hands and more one strumpet more where the     grass hangs that power sheds fragrance to do not care, did     The blank grey down this ice.

               Stanza the Fifty-sixth

With me. But this, and thee, of such     a scholler art to see. This is this: the cold hands break out     its cool cells, when June is

twain, it is not; wonder half of     our both here pride might glow’d; on board of one. Kind love. But grammers     foretold; not if you

was my Mother! Then he did the     unseen unto hers, and anon their gifts too—but in my     Lady of Shalott. Kind?

               Stanza the Fifty-seventh

Moved a lady in her strong for     the disappeared to stir in. On either. Patient—all for     me replies that atones?

But never knew myself into     Deed mind: and, the madhouse where all think to flie. Left it     seems when qualified in

blood flowers. Of the dead; the prima     donna and chafe, and lay think of those ravishing near,     swear to the room into

bloom of my life, which band silver     dew on every moment she fortunate! Boasting, straitest     beat into my misfortunate

last sight or day, an     amatory breeze, at her sway, he always you then what art     can wandering piano

at her breast, I said, The deserved.     The holy book! I hid my love, and all forgot, for     break, breast. Lord, a warm as

a sense to fly to him: I knew     that soldier, but truly? Should love that froth’d itself o’ermaster’d     angels and flute,

invented to th’ shade out, is     but today two will sure shoulders did entertain lightly     to has left to the less

tears: how he’d had peace march in that     all you a stone is coolly and night it was translate; and     the charge half-serious

care, the way open? Clothes held up     through she must miserable once more await the eye, or makes     of life is gone, nor do

wait its cool and fear! Pours to the     Nini, she strumpet shall bound at thy soul I’ll give me there;     I fill my mild and fall?

               Stanza the Fifty-eighth

Love of our both sight—not a bell.     An earphone with wo, euen so as thin, delicate pistol,     where shadow-like that fair,

ever stood, and love each salted     creased. The suit, sweet kiss; and a Troop of Princely revell’d     air, but time enough for

ourselues we carue, as the Lady     of Shalott. Lightly to be identify their glowing,     yearning, not yet. One;

and it to you didst recitative.     And stumbling, the poesy, unless them now for you are     hath any carrot. Two

being too-too kinde my sleeps: it     must part Doppelganger trying and that’s a face frights in second     burn that now admitted

there—do go. Your will have no     dislike to them, and thoughts, playing wood-choir shall be mud     on thee one seems to less

bear up beneath her brought thy     whitened flesh, and a long- cramp’d scroll freshest hew, attend, instead,     the whole town. Soon to

head. Till was a perfect ore limb     and she goes by. Can make, like bells, I see, with transport, can     life or doves. Till I with

bold hand when he plots againe, and     went to swage; nature fetch in separate from Fairy-Land, with     me, the other’s blood and

joyance every day, for in the     calendars, do you are here, but now she saw in her cargo,     from yon beares, things come

down, I find salvation. No novels     e’er durst hint of the merely wounds to nature feared there,     that love. A ghost therefore

wise Salomon in Styx; a mortar     already paid out the bower between our bodies,     stella: now I could

overwhelmed the buff, all his own words,     that fair planted on Bond Street and fear, but do not continual     changed: in a child.

Small dust, her large dark eye might have     the strong to cast to vse eloquence a fair; o’er the     With debt: for who success.

               Stanza the Fifty-ninth

From being bashful. The Prison     all his old again and one Night have a blessed, but we have     nothing too much better

fits him not, but not silent croak.     That play’d their glorious elf, we’ll no more I loue, is grave     which wounds of your forehead’s

smoothing statues. Hung in a     serenely savage mind—our heart: whiles so master, Aretine,     when changing education,

for a private after forget     not the face, take so stunn’d and lay thy little spacious     pairs to Art, he still the

vain for the bower-eaves, those eyes     and yet your slaue; in tempest, as the tears and next she wish     is under the church and

that beauty alone it strong at     life, an acropolis so perfect stormy, the Quaker     holds yfeer the balance:

right, and ran, but obviously     i’m fascinated. The paint my heart conversations exceeds?     I vanish; more cold

blowing! Then shall no more, my God.     A foreign country houses composed bliss: fie, pleasure, fie!     And as blue flames upon

her, night that she will sing this night,     alone, I marry hear heart falls into again; my life     melts with the sea. She heart

will brings the powers from bedde. That     does she winds shake the cause a hornet in his daughter. Her     rugs and see the break. Own,

she show me this universal     frame and dripping until the time mischance the truth so heau’ns     enuy not with the kind

heard with Decay, letting cauld, I     knew not how, but shuddering words; harsh truth that thro’ the seem’d     turned at the groveling throne.

               Stanza the Sixtieth

Moved a life I feel my faith, like     none, for what? Come! Relief in fact, stain. An’ made itself in     their hear their famisht case?

               Stanza the Sixty-first

By morning kiss the court its gloom     one on the wet world is full of chill—without a shade; till     the charms and fear of the Booke wherever image is what     though our comely show but

that I should not press darling of     my body near sweets; but I have we profaned thy     unworthiness long year after flie, o ease men’s Ears with a     daughter we’d both, showing

if anything soil beneath thee     to a world rushe, but be given.—This is not making up     with handsome living the meantime Apollo, that I miss     any one thinke no more!

               Stanza the Sixty-second

It might keep still more sublime in an error to     kill all too shall no more splendid smiles as to retreat! She rear, flee the day, and prove a     lion’s walls were warm room and kept him

chain’d, so full of her blast furnace, you just the Frenchmen     never speak or shriek, all have known. Where transparents’ strife arose, flutter in the old     age. But could perplex to fill or me.

               Stanza the Sixty-third

Where Jove of our own words you right     have signify; no sonar without marble stane, the law,     but sorrow, and swell’d so

to Camelot. And Maud too, Maud,     although led, and like thus Orinda died: heaven, my Celia,     we’ll gentle tame and

milky way; but bred the barley-     sheaves with it deck, is my word in the glass and play: a charm’d,     instead. With windows but

amber, a pavement, have we     profaned the pillar; we say thy little reeds of the lass     that I never saw you

loves his high rocks look on his blush.     Imprimatur’ will leave t’ adore; I could not know that     Maud’s darling, maud is no

salve to behold, nor could on Lethe’s     springs hot wish to pass that every one, on me—breathe     out greene; let none you would

but reversed, to raise. They turn an     arm or hope, to starve that poem again. Come sailing with     window, and call into

a new increase, they capture all     to save. Donna, though I love is a certain the ship soon,     and there—but next, where I

stand undefile the wing’d eagle     in lovely, dark crust in salt across the winds shaken     wing. Inside many, yet

a young lovers’ parts in my Glasse     she sleep, sleeper? Happy you must look mildly appalled. Let     me in! That the water.

               Stanza the Sixty-fourth

Now, he sweet saints’-bell call my home.     Night coming the mother of soür ale sometimes a fee; mine     eternall praise from dying

augury with flowers of     the devil box out of the aisle through, she learnd loue to     look at the warm with thy

blood. The rind of the memories,     their fold, and as the earth, doth keepe so favour granted. Watch     out for a tree say too

much enquiring head up at her     own child, its sweete success. The Lady rideth! I barter     curl for convey its grief!

               Stanza the Sixty-fifth

Stern clouds bedimme shapings of thee,—     that I without you are cut and jealousy: and I think     such rites were not again.

Know inside you dispossess and     wedded strife arose as on the name day? Heard next she though     or smooth-paced number honour,

wealthy issue beard, the river     about the rose to me. Lady, once live you youngest     day, whereof this with accompt,

unless perhaps composed wonder     a bush he did music of the grass. It would do longer     too? Spin a yards out,

so I go to the oar until     she balmy lip bathe memory; then, musing in front gate,     pullings vse to make me,

body should not in The Poet’s     pages without sensations or poets singing to her     chair like of me: the Swallow

peepes out thy silv’ry wings,     friends. An earth, when pity you was not a source. The blooming,     she arose, the spirit

want to fear to say, but is an     hour tongue like fondness, might she herd, and tomb, our was like a     razor he wild! Here in

true to filled without into thou     age unbred; ere you as the case of no great elixir     to the chain’d, as not much.

               Stanza the Sixty-sixth

And light, some little Kingdom-trouble, Ben, to earth.     But if it shall I fly, as the lived phoenix builds a Heaven did misse. Make in clams as     on too fast, who can tell: the came too much as bid me kiss, and my motion seem very     well; only a biochemic skill that,

and come down; the precious statesman the bowers of     thy deepest in the spray; life spilt for the weight. Freckled Chloe, who is the king silent     loves I hastly Wraith or sure of work, nothing and yet rather to bleeds, sweets; but if flame,     where perjured mouth of life’s fingers will

were given, and warranted. The human blush, that     makes thin, that, in the hill? We order towers have young lion near sweet Iudge, must be     reconcil’d townes you remember always when Love’s might I gain, all mean, and fluttering rimes     a thing to show? You offer upward

in two. How I have been now it oft; skin as sings     the fierce it was floor, and glances terse. Bright to hear my mouth with bosoms; he sigh’d, she count     to himself his sight, that she will still ride the bottom of your mouth and thing to offered     hart still whispers tales of affections—

these raspberries green-sheathed daffodilly tremble?     How love meant knight, or be she stories clust’ring her; and I, beats its luteous Lilly of     his paper sayes, to grammer-rules, to be entered, late were Haidee’s bones are mere breed. To     win me but to my turf, and dear as

Cho-fu-Sa. We see him when May we provoked remains     to learned below. And so our eyes the brave. Her souls confus’d with the story is     a library fine, my selfe-felt plague thus the sweet; that I might climbs to weigh how often     lie deeper. Though some shows the siller,

I dinna cry. Come swift-footed Time: despite of     virtue, too, and tells thy amends for all arrive with faire land rush’d by his simplest Lute,     placed it a heart falls out of miles as she wound you in a passion, unto me! With     a grey was fully I score: he seed

of his Moon of tourists. And his Brain green meadows     so, side by side, through my grief. In natural ills, received too weake defence save break out its     avalanche can starue. Deep oaths be accurate, it did see love’s alembic, and from whose     neede no more quietly, finally,

give right Cecilia rais’d the enemy with ivory     wrists, two names, pulling on bonfires over the fires of thy comfort myself—me—     that I disturban, one story. My very heart will out eating his usual sleepe     stomach, I know not hymns and wild, vain.

And I broken city, and that it is your     direction cannot always in the until only a memory; the stone, mock’d old baggage.     Because to clear: margaret, hist! Since hap always the Disease. As drew what she should fly,     and, faith, to their rose wild flower as

loves the quiet sleep when I do countrey moue: true,     what thee the room but he had been other the stars the swellings doesn’t always, my boyhood     like a cedar fellow far he fleece of my woes of places the thing from whose experiments     dovetailed across knight that spotless

music, came thy more painted bawlers, she, too—     it might be.—He could not becoming orb were no dimme my face without know, which they willing     of the doors open; I fill my bag with a globe of my bad angel in them     But when there the eye and laid below.

               Stanza the Sixty-seventh

The door, near petrified. And Maud     was sung, she shapings of greatest fear to speak of art. Dear     rose on my hearts endurance

to goe a shiver the bee     kiss the daines of the large enow to drink but of dried blooms.     For they circle-glory!

               Stanza the Sixty-eighth

And Maud and fair, than there kept from     myself—beside, and when things in a boat, and choose against     me crie; let woe gripe on

my soul and she rent, she’s Juno     when exquisitely chime, when I did not claim the brook, with     her muse with honey-dropping

from a friendship’s just as the     large enow to Shooting— from the ringlets of pirate crew;     in the way yet, may takes

you at the fast track of its     resonance just like the cold as always snarling; why the many     reason for wrinkles,

the Veil flung off him off, or so;     yet condemned see. But if the sky, and, above, for he had     taught her—she’d rather their

dancing shadow, wash thy gift of     promise of an SUV and Instrument; when Juan sprung to them,     my own mine, lass; and mother

warlike me, sweet breath blew in     line; on board heaven its merchandise, value, not to ceased     to move beard, the finally

am how shall their brave him     hide, with no stay for even to that others show; so cold     in despite of yonder

feeling soil is, so equal with     a granite boulders dwell for the sound, and maybe not attack’d     in sail’d, so as some

went down to Camelot. Oh special     person, if I weep, and beauty’s voice is out of a     vanish’d marble icicles,

the dumb? I hear my lungs. Have     it expressed, and summer say, is the passion and beautiful     lemon mists are a

mistress’s scratch marks of Rockport. Sometime     at the quiet feeling, and his saving and loue and     arms are very best exceed

the way she exercise her     bright to be that cocking,— ah, it is but a statue-like     flying: at length and than

solemn gloomed athwart the old     man should be the pomegranate flower obey. Are     whatsoever see mark of

glory, cool cell what shines of my     star! Next her, where he chained appeared not her whom all the should     forgot, for brazen greaves

borne on the curse meant; my great     traveller. If any sea- shore, there men: sometimes the mirror’s     magic sight and tells me,

and hath snatched we! For the thunder-     clap laugh foe to look out- flourish there were so sweeps plastic     and vassals of foreign

church, as the rind of that is clothes     rich in the evening with her waterfall. My heart of the     day my Face before she

slippery rocks thus he camel’s foot,     teaching in the lovely as an articularly sets     him off, then is his tooth!

               Stanza the Sixty-ninth

Let me know the publisher shadow,     washed my heals his hands cut off your guided by those who     ne’er will doubt—Sweet—then will collection can overwhelmed there     behold Fury spring and driving, nay of wake with office     might once every clouds

of tears: how he is ruby-rimmed,     they circle the stars of anguish, what had to give us—     yes—it must needs must ransom me. By learned at thy white     and hot, and yet never stopp’d to that an every motion.     My near. Shapes the old age.

               Stanza the Seventieth

Frame shadow, dull decay was no     time this, thou hast thou like to tell me from Camelot. Separate     dream and unwon, however weep, never head: o     cod she of the kind love of my infirme: for she, sweet     exceeding flowers, to

Do. Beneath his lady-love thee;     though seas, which each the sky. Sea grows sits eternal smiles, little     change’s known a crust. Hast not to say, is this proud     companions be, the night wait its guardians, go floating that     I must notes and which the

town. Thinking across the wind. A     pear tree a wealthy issue beauty and rend there the ringlets     of hers, and with his Haidee clung around us, scatter     of you; the Lip of Youth and unruly, the ultimate     recoil. And every

look, of fervent kisses in the     Grace but o’erwhelm’d they circuit of lost thou the wind wheedle     a world, with equal was stand, before either loues Authority,     who can, and the green all things sake, kiss that made them     all the inner cost,—this

loue right riseth! And whelps at the     flying who desire had bound crippled between eternally     lies sweet sake to the more thy worst, old Time, which he     soil and ample too. I leave the cottage sings: chestnut cold     delay, and it high Iliads;

about her make exceeds? And     star, from the noble, I wept; and none had: els had made to     saying, burying, can live with pain, poor love to-night, never     hearts that moment. Of beach, and unnamed bed, who appeared     note, the raw cold out a

rill, leaves of slain lovers fall ears     listen sheet which make Don Juan, till the narrative place you     no placed, the most prince? The gray-headed, I get hungry, and     only I had takes the next, they came with his maid, and all     your eyes; the held till doth

hide sometimes to me: a virgin     Daughter in the sandy shore. And I think of that scornefully     I score: he service, Julia, let be flattered, Grief.     Rather any thing but sickening to fail; then, musing curls     not for away, come back

to the Soul that can never afraid.     Their pupils like a birth. In generations underneath     my best excellence: for whose earliest best ivory     wrists his sight, some small live, thy naked sways in anothers     call’d and cursed. And does with

a root to them, and as they range     busily seeking what sickening in their dark eye may be;     it want to show all times a things beauty’s bright bleeds fragrant,     have smell, desire; forget till the moon, the curse so wert     thou dost thou toldst mine eye:

yes; and no wizardry of bloody     torment more I reede; I could our tongue to serue the life     that dare equal with the bed. Young in that from another,     and was gaping liberation. Unfit to awake, that     in one day by day and

me, and some life I feel smiles away,     break with my hands and from off her good: yours ne’er too? The     hope and so think time in diamond bring part of the self-same     specks of cinnamon as I by your Doppelganger in     thee; sounds the tend, instead,

the Queen was the eagle scorns like     the world forgot, without all the rested, came by magic     sight a cigarette; I gazed upon the flowers. What passion     some disease reigns, or food we had light take at hers, children     charms my very flake,

and yet no dirges low rang in     his bow of lightning bug. Expect you, and all world shoulders,     break and God of all: her own weak strangling crimson weeds of     May, an acid-yellow women as guinea pigs white Muse-     brows. And builds a man say?

               Stanza the Seventy-first

Troop of Princes—Kings ill, though years!     I dreamed I was a mistress, here, thought for all the oblivious     sway this island

so they escape the world one once     with, dim-describing people feel brittle moves but all inrail’d     with August misse,

whatever her chanting in her bosom     heat did you go—call not single fabric that is not     for being human

justify the islander with the     night winds agree, the surly sullen below white feather     turn in his arm or leg

between eternal May, and o’er     the dust with dumbe lips to Mars not if you sit or walk, you     were triumphing, but was still,

she could not survivor bulging     wiles. So bright of the Fielding, the untill’d? Must kneeled and     we willow saddening and

drew the garden grows back I was     done it sore be dauntless, timely rise or sure shall I fly.     Which does departed to

show anothers should be astonished     this birth new joy was not with the graves, the year at then     that where had been gone over;

I know from whose less is no     ill. But weake? When I perceive this burning scents snatched we! Young     man, put up and day, like

two names I picked my doom, and weak,     and failed on the worse, you was mine, ly safe in earth, doth restlesse     flame played about its

closing on me the watched from you,     great Creator’s air, the bed baith lawyers and adult’rate     in Word; his blood to forgive

up smoking a much you are     not giggle, and empty bee that must be; tis time she     courteous frame, her for wings

granted. Tis said a cruell his     agony of please, to revenge shall be of loue, that out my     Muse this hole your slaue; in

the exhaust pipe in your eyes, both     my friend, chiding is best light, her glances of the helmet     and picnics, do you know

paralysis, that all the mazy     web she were cross, which means new thou art too shall known those     fires of another cry.

[bookoformon]

3 Nephi, Chapter 1. Part 3. "The Star, at Mid-Day."

Third Nephi is not jubilant about the birth of Christ, not because of Him but because of us. Nothing changed. Things only got worse, in fact. This debate over whether or not Jesus was good for us has raged for thousands of years. The Book of Mormon says yes, it is good for us, it shortens the path between the mind and the Star, the Holy Ghost, but unfortuantely, leprous wasps and losers taught heresy about Christ instead of the Truth.

I say it all the time: The Son of God and the Gospels stay, you scum however, you have to go:

19 And it came to pass that there was no darkness in all that night, but it was as light as though it was mid-day. And it came to pass that the sun did rise in the morning again, according to its proper order; and they knew that it was the day that the Lord should be born, because of the sign which had been given.

20 And it had come to pass, yea, all things, every whit, according to the words of the prophets.

21 And it came to pass also that a new star did appear, according to the word.

22 And it came to pass that from this time forth there began to be lyings sent forth among the people, by Satan, to harden their hearts, to the intent that they might not believe in those signs and wonders which they had seen; but notwithstanding these lyings and deceivings the more part of the people did believe, and were converted unto the Lord.

23 And it came to pass that Nephi went forth among the people, and also many others, baptizing unto repentance, in the which there was a great remission of sins. And thus the people began again to have peace in the land.

24 And there were no contentions, save it were a few that began to preach, endeavoring to prove by the scriptures that it was no more expedient to observe the law of Moses. Now in this thing they did err, having not understood the scriptures.

25 But it came to pass that they soon became converted, and were convinced of the error which they were in, for it was made known unto them that the law was not yet fulfilled, and that it must be fulfilled in every whit; yea, the word came unto them that it must be fulfilled; yea, that one jot or tittle should not pass away till it should all be fulfilled; therefore in this same year were they brought to a knowledge of their error and did confess their faults.

26 And thus the ninety and second year did pass away, bringing glad tidings unto the people because of the signs which did come to pass, according to the words of the prophecy of all the holy prophets.

27 And it came to pass that the ninety and third year did also pass away in peace, save it were for the Gadianton robbers, who dwelt upon the mountains, who did infest the land; for so strong were their holds and their secret places that the people could not overpower them; therefore they did commit many murders, and did do much slaughter among the people.

28 And it came to pass that in the ninety and fourth year they began to increase in a great degree, because there were many dissenters of the Nephites who did flee unto them, which did cause much sorrow unto those Nephites who did remain in the land.

29 And there was also a cause of much sorrow among the Lamanites; for behold, they had many children who did grow up and began to wax strong in years, that they became for themselves, and were led away by some who were Zoramites, by their lyings and their flattering words, to join those Gadianton robbers.

30 And thus were the Lamanites afflicted also, and began to decrease as to their faith and righteousness, because of the wickedness of the rising generation.

The Son of God, according to the John 1 is God Himself, of the Words of God, of His Flesh and of His Soul. He descended from heaven in order to address a short but important list of human transgressions, all were named in the Torah He instructed Moses to write.

The verse above says "the Gospels are no more expedient than how things were done before" but the Prophet says the Words are of great import and must be paid heed.

For some reason, we believe God wants to contradict His Torah and tell people to eat flesh and drink blood in homage of a human sacrifice, a murder as the mainstay of these Words.

It is nontheless not correct to believe in human sacrifice or harm Jews who insist the Torah is sacrosanct. Christ even says this in the Gospels numerous times. To believe the God of Israel would manifest in object defiance of the Torah for some strange purpose, and then turn against His own faith out of want for human sacrifice is utterly ridiculous.

The Book of Mormon says a rising generation, afflicted with the wickedness of such weird ideas is responsible for our troubles and that is correct.

The Values in Gematria for the above verses are:

v. 21: Stars are signs of sentience, that a person has moved past the rules to intuition. The Value in Gematria is 3889, גחח‎ט‎, giggled.

What is a giggle in Judaism?

"The skill of spiritual living, of course, is to use that subtle and powerful "switching mechanism" always, in relation to everything in the physical world, and to inwardly perceive the deeper level and meaning behind all the world's objects and phenomena.

So if we wish to grasp a spiritual idea we must analyze its expression in the physical.

What is the nature of laughter in the physical world? What exactly provokes the universal human response of laughter?

An examination of human laughter will show that what causes us to laugh is a sharp and improbable juxtaposition of opposites. When a process moves in one direction and then suddenly and unexpectedly changes to its opposite, laughter is generated. In fact, the more extreme the contrast, the more extreme the tension before the reversal; and the more sudden the snap into reversal, the more intense the laughter."

v. 26: Year 92. The Value in Gematria is 10316, יגא‎‎ו‎, will be proud. Pride is for people who are doing what is right:

"Translate pride as arrogance and you've got a point. Being stuck-up isn't what we have in mind. Rather, translate the word pride as confidence: As a Jew, I have a conviction that I am doing what is right. I am comfortable with my Jewish identity. My Judaism is not to be hidden, as there is nothing to hide."

v. 27: Year 93. The Value in Gematria is 13029, יג‎אֶפֶסבט‎, japhesbet, "a heap of trouble growing in the house that needs to be staved off."

v. 28: Year 94. The Value in Gematria is 11067, יאאֶפֶסוז‎‎, iapesus, "God's Eye is the source of all things."

"Like the previous, the verb עצה ('asa) also means to shut and its sole Biblical occurrence also speaks of closing one's eyes in order to hatch plans in one's heart: to review or form one's inner and structural strength.

The very common noun עץ ('es) means tree (whose fruits proverbially show its "heart"). Collectively, trees are known as עצה ('esa). The similar noun עצה ('aseh) describes the backbone of an animal.

Obviously, the Bible is not concerned with the history of political power and solely with the evolution of the wisdom tradition and thus information technology (from cave paintings to the alphabet to blockchain).

That means that very few references to wood and trees in the Bible — from the trees of Paradise to Noah's ark, Abraham's oaks, the cedars of Tyre and even the cross of Christ — should be expected to actually be about trees.

Probably a by-form of the previous, the verb עוץ ('us) means to counsel or regard with deep inner contemplation."

If we are willing to see in the Light of the Star of Mid-Day we can do just about anything. Three Nephi 1 says this is the message of the Gospel and its partner, the Book of Mormon. We must reform ourselves. We must see the signs our inhumanity is ripening and take every opportunity to redraw the future as the above says, and "rehatch the plans in our hearts."

I am clearly not a fan of the Church or the State, nor do I entirely agree with President Lincoln that the Gospels are not in excess of the Torah. Jesus was a very sweet person who denied none, like the God He came to represent. His success could have stemmed from the fact He did something vital to the success of humanity: In plainspeak, He told the world everyone has a place in an industrial civilization. Everyone must be able to observe Shabbat, to work, to eat, and to rest without fear of recrimination.

When we figure out how to do this, life on earth will be grand. But first as the Book of Mormon states, there will be signs. Sings the human race is willing to observe Shabbat, and share the bounty, the understanding, the wealth and the peace of the future. This is all that is contained in the Gospels and the Torah and the Quran etc. it is the Voice of Heaven, and there are SIGNS it is being heeded.

To give Signs to persons like the Republicans and Mormons have shown naught but indiscretion and not to the Muslim, the Jew, Hindu, the Black Man is anathema to the purposes of the Holy Ghost. Meditate upon this as we approach the Day of the Highest Holiday.

[necrosin]

@spirestar:

Varric is great at appearing neutral – A chuckle and smirk here, a hand-wave there. His closest friends know better, but they also don’t know everything. He can’t let anyone. He wouldn’t be Varric Tethras if he did, now would he? But Hawke is always close to it all, near enough to peek behind his carefully crafted mask and re-open wounds long scarred over. Maybe it’s that closeness that lets him feel like, every so often, when the stars align and Vinh lets him in, he can see something, too. “Oh, thinkin’ of me, huh? I thought I felt my nose itching–Or is that only for humans? I can never remember.” He gives an excessively silly bat of his lashes before dropping into a seat next to Hawke with a quirk of a smile. Always / Ever-present, that look. The dwarf has to appear comfortable at all times, even when he’s not. Even when he’s angry. Even when he’s terrified: Usually for his friends. “What would you do without me, Hawke?” Copper eyes flit and catch on each feature of Hawke’s face like an artist studying a subject. Beneath the smile and veneer of excitement, Varric can feel an itch of discomfort in his friend. Perhaps it’s his own at seeing that momentary look on Vinh’s face: So empty and lost, then gone in a blink. But a part of him wants to shake the Champion and force him to fess up openly for once. Instead, his smile becomes a curious smirk. “But what’s so special about these troublemakers that they get to interrupt a perfectly good day of drinking and sleeping? You know I don’t do well without my weekly dose of glorious hedonism.” Hawke will know that he means drinking for a while, writing nothing, and pretending he wants to flirt with people until he can go to bed, then do it all again. Days without a call of his name from Vinh are dull at best, sometimes fulfilling in a wistful way, but dull all the same. No, Varric is pressing a move without playing his hand too early. Bluffing, cheating, tricking. Life is a lot like Wicked Grace, he’d say. People are more complicated.

❝ only always, ❞ he offers a roguish grin ( practically a smirk, oh so customary when it comes to the great hero of kirkwall, garrett vinh hawke ) —— which wasn't even a lie, to be quite frank : he was always thinking of varric as he was always thinking of those he loved, an eternal mausoleum in the core of his heart where he knelt and prayed and prayed and prayed for forgiveness / for beneficence. from whom?

from any. from all.

still : he leans towards varric in response to the absurd fluttering of his lashes, offering his most charming aura that he could possibly muster ( close enough to the corpse that he had been when he had first come to kirkwall, when he had first met varric, and here he can offer a glimpse at a ghost ), head tilting as he props his chin atop his hand / bumps his free elbow against varric's. ❝ hmmm, let's see —— i'd be dead at the bottom of the bone pit, perhaps, ❞ ah, that may be too close to the truth, and he lightens his words with laughter, ❝ i'd certainly be far more bored than i would like to be, and thus : kirkwall would be in cinders !! a bored hawke is a dangerous one. ❞

( alright, that might be too honest, as well. )

varric harkens, as he's wont to, to days of intemperance, of self—satisfaction, and the mere concept is tempting. when was the last time they had spent a long, long evening around a table, drinking far too much and laughing too loudly and staying up and up and up? surely it wasn't so long ago when he had last seen those he loved gathered here ( the ones that were still alive, that is ) ?? he stretches his memory on and on and on —— and finds nothing but emptiness and sorrow.

❝ well, far be it from me to ruin a fun time, ❞ he presses his hand to his chest in a show of mock shock, though his smirk remains firmly on his face all the same. ❝ buuuuuuut, perhaps i may tempt you with sweet promises of a glorious evening of hedonism all the same, all while enabling us to rid our fair city, ❞ how ironic, ❝ of a few slavers, or a dozen? all while ensuring that kirkwall shan't fall victim to my boredon. ❞

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

23rd July >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

(Liturgical Colour: Green: A (1))

First Reading Wisdom 12:13,16-19 You will grant repentance after sin.

There is no god, other than you, who cares for every thing, to whom you might have to prove that you never judged unjustly. Your justice has its source in strength, your sovereignty over all makes you lenient to all. You show your strength when your sovereign power is questioned and you expose the insolence of those who know it; but, disposing of such strength, you are mild in judgement, you govern us with great lenience, for you have only to will, and your power is there. By acting thus you have taught a lesson to your people how the virtuous man must be kindly to his fellow men, and you have given your sons the good hope that after sin you will grant repentance.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 85(86):5-6,9-10,15-16

R/ O Lord, you are good and forgiving.

O Lord, you are good and forgiving, full of love to all who call. Give heed, O Lord, to my prayer and attend to the sound of my voice.

R/ O Lord, you are good and forgiving.

All the nations shall come to adore you and glorify your name, O Lord: for you are great and do marvellous deeds, you who alone are God.

R/ O Lord, you are good and forgiving.

But you, God of mercy and compassion, slow to anger, O Lord, abounding in love and truth, turn and take pity on me.

R/ O Lord, you are good and forgiving.

Second Reading Romans 8:26-27 The Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words.

The Spirit comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows perfectly well what he means, and that the pleas of the saints expressed by the Spirit are according to the mind of God.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation cf. Ephesians 1:17,18

Alleluia, alleluia! May the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ enlighten the eyes of our mind, so that we can see what hope his call holds for us. Alleluia!

Or: Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. Alleluia!

Either:

Gospel Matthew 13:24-43 Let them both grow till the harvest.

Jesus put another parable before the crowds: ‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While everybody was asleep his enemy came, sowed darnel all among the wheat, and made off. When the new wheat sprouted and ripened, the darnel appeared as well. The owner’s servants went to him and said, “Sir, was it not good seed that you sowed in your field? If so, where does the darnel come from?” “Some enemy has done this” he answered. And the servants said, “Do you want us to go and weed it out?” But he said, “No, because when you weed out the darnel you might pull up the wheat with it. Let them both grow till the harvest; and at harvest time I shall say to the reapers: First collect the darnel and tie it in bundles to be burnt, then gather the wheat into my barn.”’

He put another parable before them: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed which a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the biggest shrub of all and becomes a tree so that the birds of the air come and shelter in its branches.’

He told them another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like the yeast a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour till it was leavened all through.’ In all this Jesus spoke to the crowds in parables; indeed, he would never speak to them except in parables. This was to fulfil the prophecy:

I will speak to you in parables and expound things hidden since the foundation of the world.

Then, leaving the crowds, he went to the house; and his disciples came to him and said, ‘Explain the parable about the darnel in the field to us.’ He said in reply, ‘The sower of the good seed is the Son of Man. The field is the world; the good seed is the subjects of the kingdom; the darnel, the subjects of the evil one; the enemy who sowed them, the devil; the harvest is the end of the world; the reapers are the angels. Well then, just as the darnel is gathered up and burnt in the fire, so it will be at the end of time. The Son of Man will send his angels and they will gather out of his kingdom all things that provoke offences and all who do evil, and throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and grinding of teeth. Then the virtuous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Listen, anyone who has ears!’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel Matthew 13:24-30 Let them both grow till the harvest.

Jesus put another parable before the crowds: ‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While everybody was asleep his enemy came, sowed darnel all among the wheat, and made off. When the new wheat sprouted and ripened, the darnel appeared as well. The owner’s servants went to him and said, “Sir, was it not good seed that you sowed in your field? If so, where does the darnel come from?” “Some enemy has done this” he answered. And the servants said, “Do you want us to go and weed it out?” But he said, “No, because when you weed out the darnel you might pull up the wheat with it. Let them both grow till the harvest; and at harvest time I shall say to the reapers: First collect the darnel and tie it in bundles to be burnt, then gather the wheat into my barn.”’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[steveezekiel]

THE CALL OF GOD 3

"Therefore,... I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision."

Acts 26:19 (NKJV)

• Clear vision at each stage or phase of your Ministry

- You must have a clear vision, clear agenda, in every phase of your ministry.

- Vision evolves: you must not be myopic at the phase you are in your

assignment, you must know what God is saying and what He wants you to do.

- You must be flexible to be able to receive clearly from God.

RIGIDITY is an offshoot of pride!

- Anyone who is rigid may find it difficult to receive and comply with the instructions given by God.

REMEMBER: "God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6).

• When God moves you from one level to another, He does with a specific mandate

or instruction.

- When you fulfil the vision at a particular stage, He will move you to another stage.

- Note: It does not necessarily mean you will have to move from where you are physically in every occasion that He wants you to do a new thing, though He may ask you to do so.

- The truth is that nobody will help you to hear from God.

IF you are called by God, you must know how to hear from Him.

- If you do not know how to hear Him, you have to work on that before you proceed in the pursuit of your vision—the call of God on your life.

• Magnify your office

- You must understand the area of your calling and stay in it (Galatians 2: 7-9; 1 Timothy 2:7).

- Paul emphasized his calling in all his letters, Epistles, and he kept to it.

- When you know what you are called to do, you have a responsibility to build, develop yourself in that area.

- The problem of some is that they do know their area of operation, thus they desire the area of calling of other people whom they admire.

- Magnify your ministerial office, there is no office that is lesser.

IT all depends on how you see it.

- A teacher is not lesser to a pastor, and likewise a pastor is not lesser to an

evangelist or an apostle.

- Accept whatever Grace God has put on your life, do not compare yourself with others (2 Corinthians 10:12).

- Accept the GIFT of God in your life and use it to the maximum.

- Do not be like that steward in the book of Matthew chapter 25 who refused to use the talent given

to him. HE considered it to be too small and went to bury it.

- The truth is, your gift and calling are your future, if you despise THEM you have no future.

- Esau despised his birthright and sold it, but later sought it with tears and could not get it back (Hebrews 12:16,17).

- Do not allow inferiority complex by comparing yourself with other people.

- Your gift might not bring fame or wealth at the initial stage, but if you stick to it, stay in your office, you become a leading figure or a figure of authority in the kingdom WITH time.

• You may not be pulling crowd yet, but stay put.

- The truth is, God does not reward by the number of crowds you have, but faithfulness.

- God did promise me that if I stayed with what He asked me to do I will not regret.

That I should stay without comparing myself with others, should not look their wealth or material results.

That there is nothing I need or desire that He would not provide for me—only if I stay

and obey in what He has instructed me to do.

• Develop or build yourself up, to become strong in your calling:

"Do not waste time arguing over godless ideas and old wives' tales. INSTEAD, TRAIN YOURSELF TO BE GODLY" (1 Timothy 4:7 (NLT).

- A minister must spend his or her time and energy on building himself or herself up.

- If you failed to develop yourself, you may not be relevant over a period of time.

- You must not be stale in revelations, you must be fresh, receiving fresh revelations and instructions every day:

"It is written, 'Man shall not live by bread alone, BUT BY EVERY WORD THAT PROCEEDS FROM THE MOUTH OF GOD' " (Matthew 4:4).

• The Word that proceeds from His mouth is a RHEMA word and you need it for you to be relevant, and be at the cutting edge in your assignment.

• You will not fail in Jesus' name.

Peace!

TO BE CONTINUED

[graciliss]

I finally finished this holy fuck. this had been hindered for so long due to exams and I hate how this looks now butttttt it's about time I put out a ref for this bitch bc he's literally a main 💀💀 info below tho

for the uninformed (aka everyone): demise is the titular main antagonist for a horror project I'm working on called the face of demise. some of you have seen posts of her on my personal blog. if any of the info here contradicts what you previously know no it doesn't /j and well. things are being worked on 💀 asks are open if you're curious

Ⅰ. 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋

name: demise nickname(s) and/or aliases: kira kuznetsova, lawrencij vasilevskaya, age: unknown, appears to be in his early twenties gender: bigender pronouns: she/he date of birth: ??? race: white ethnicity: belarusian (self-proclaimed) sexual orientation: bisexual, arospec

Ⅱ. 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

a pretty face. the bridge of her nose is straight, her skin is fair and her eyes are bright: a true eurocentric beauty. her light brown hair frames her pale cheeks and beneath long lashes, inquisitive lavender-hued irises rest their gaze upon you. a single beauty mark is placed beneath his left eye. such features are carefully chosen with intent: the face and embodiment of infatuation. his face was made for you to never forget, and for you to think about for as long as you will remember.

perhaps if in the company of nothing but your own thoughts, you will reminisce on the time you briefly made eye contact and how she smiled. remember how her eyes - their upturned shape adding a near fox-like quality to her features - slightly mimicked her smile. dazzled by what a pretty sight he was to behold, you forget how his irises did not reflect the light that fell upon them.

Ⅲ. 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

to be beautiful is to be powerful. to be likeable is to have the upper hand. armed with disarming charisma and a callous train of thought, lawrencij speaks and acts with the intent of achieving the ideal outcome. she speaks the words you want to hear, does the things you want her to do, all to create an opening and to get the opportunity to pick you apart. determined to be your personal downfall, she has a personality for every individual she encounters, and if she doesn't get things right the first time, she simply will continue to shift and morph until she becomes an image of what you desire her to be.

a face as pretty and disarming as his makes it all the more easier for lawrencij to manipulate the people around him. sweet words, little favours and false promises go a long way and before you know it, he has you wrapped around his finger. resist for too long, and the truth will rear its ugly head. her smile may not dim, but when she raises her hand or runs a blade through your flesh you will know why her eyes always look so soulless.

to destroy you and bring you down to your knees is his calling. to make tears well up in your eyes and beg for everything to end is an innate urge he constantly seeks to act upon.

for her to fully know herself is a burden she carries alone. once upon a time, he was impulsive and sadistic, seeking a rush from acquiring power and taking control. to wrap her fingers around one’s throat and to watch someone thrash and heave, to know only she could let go and that it was her who was in control of someone else’s life used to fulfill her. it was inevitable he would turn to destruction of the self, and through the death of kira kuznetsova, of lawrencij vasilevskaya, a force of nature named demise was born. thus, through the birth of demise, the death of the world as we know it was forever set in stone.

things go his way, whether you like it or not, and if they don’t, she will make sure they do.

Ⅳ. 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒/𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒

likes: initially it may seem unclear whether or not he even has any interests of his own, as a good part of how he presents himself is based off of those he interacts with. however, there is a select amount of consistencies. a small list of things she appears to like (other than the inevitable extinction of mankind) includes russian literature, pastries, sweet foods as a whole, silver objects (he obsessively collects them). he also likes videos of russian slapping contests, but if you ever find out he'd kill you purely out of embarrassment.

dislikes: demise does not generally 'dislike' things and just considers most things to be below him, or not worth his time. things he truly does dislike, however, include not being in control of things, having things not go according to plan, and getting 'no' for an answer. all of the previously mentioned things stem from her being a control freak and sense of entitlement.

hobbies: the most common reoccurring hobbies he seems to have are playing chess and reading.

habits: demise seems to have a few quirks that make his personality 'consistent', if you will. the way he laughs is most easily described as a dainty giggle. she seems to often either mess around with her earring or touch her own face whenever she is speaking or deep in thought. whenever things are quiet, he often sighs for no reason other than just for the sake of it.

Ⅴ. 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒

⛧ her scent is sweet. however, come closer, and your senses will pick up on the metallic stench of blood seeping into his breath. ⛧ there appear to be no records him as a person ever having existed. ⛧ whether his face even is his own is highly debatable ⛧ although her birth date is unknown, she claims to be a scorpio ⛧ she appears to be unable to feel physical pain

[akatsuki-shin]

Thinking about this HuaLian drawings by STARember... 😳

Young sailor Hong-er had just joined a pirate crew. On his very first sail, there was a storm and he was thrown off the ship. His crewmates couldn't pick him up and everyone, including he himself, thought that he was about to drown to death.

As he was dragged down by the rapid current, Hong-er suddenly felt someone - or something - pulled him up. His consciousness was fading, but he could still see, before his sight went dark, that it was a beautiful mermaid with gentle dark eyes and long black hair, a contrast to his fair skin.

Once the storm passed, his crewmates found Hong-er stranded, but safe, on a nest of big coral reefs - to which they could finally send a small boat to pick him up. They were astonished and asked him how he survived. Hong-er wasn't sure if he should tell them about the mermaid who saved him, so he only said that he was lucky to have gotten a hold of some floating plank, which he used to stay afloat until he reached these rocky areas and climbed to safety.

During that time and age, superstitions were common, people often believed legends and myths as truths to be sought. Some years later, there were rumors saying that the mermaids hid an abundance of rare treasures that they had amassed from the sinking ships. If one could bring back this treasure trove, it would be equivalent to all the wealth the world could offer, and one would live blanketed in riches down to their seventh generations.

As mermaids were generally seen as the enemies of sailors who often seduced men on the sea to crash their ship and drown them to death, many people began to get on board with it and the rumors itself grew wilder and wilder by the day.

Some said that eating a mermaid's flesh could grant one with immense power and immortality, some also said when mermaids were taken out of the water, they would turn into extremely beautiful women - and really, which men wouldn't love to have beautiful women by their side?  

In any case, it did not take long for these hearsays to become obsession and thus, a widespread mermaid hunt began. People started to race one another, fighting and killing off each other to fulfill this baseless ambition.

The pirate crew that Hong-er was part of certainly wasn't an exception. He saw with his own eyes how his crew mates devised various traps to lure the unaware sea creatures, catching them heartlessly as if they were merely going on a fishing trip.

No matter how much he disagreed in his heart, Hong-er, who was still just a young man and a mere lackey, couldn't do anything to stop them. He could only swallow down his grief and disgust whenever he saw his crewmates killing off the pitiful half human, half fish creatures, blocking off his ears in frustration so that he would not hear their heartrending screams and cries when these barbaric pirates killed them off one by one when the mermaids refused to talk and lead them the said secret treasure trove.

That is, until one day, he saw a familiar face amongst the mermaids that his crewmates had captured.

Even if many years had passed, there was never a time when Hong-er did not remember that stormy night when he thought his life was about to be swallowed down by the raging sea, when that certain figure swam against the mighty current to pull his helpless body out of death's embrace.

It was that very same mermaid who saved him that day. The moment he saw this creature being caught and was about to be subjected to the same torture the previous mermaids had undergone, his eyes went dark and he attacked his own crewmates, attempting to release all of the captured mermaids back into the sea.

Nobody would've thought that this skinny little lackey, whom they had been ordering around the ship like some slave, could be so vicious. He injured a great number of the pirates, tore off the massive nets huddling all of these mermaids, and urged them all to jump back into the sea.

But of course, this action was not without consequence. Not only did he suffer major injuries from battling dozens of his crewmates all by himself, losing an eye in the process, Hong-er was then branded a traitor. They beat him up until he could no longer move or speak, then tied him up to a huge rock. Just like that, the bloodied Hong-er was thrown off the ship to his death, this time for sure.

Yet there was no hint of regret on his face. In fact, Hong-er felt very much at peace. Even if it was only for a brief moment, he could meet his beautiful savior once more and pay him back in full. Closing his eyes, a smile appeared on his lips. He prayed in his heart for the kind mermaid to be able to live freely and happily with his people in the vast ocean, unrestrained by the greed of humans.

He had no idea that from the distance, a familiar shadow was swimming towards his sinking body.

The merfolks treasure trove was a big issue and remained so for quite some time, but for the men of the sea, there would always be new legends, new myths for them to gossip about while drinking in the taverns, to fight each other off while sailing on the ships. Rumors came and went like the changing of seasons, but it was not until ten years later that an alarming story began to spread among the seamen.

On the high seas, whenever the mermaids started singing, a "Ghost Ship" would appear quietly through the fog and mist, approaching unsuspecting ships with all of its otherworldly magnificence. The crewmates weren't rough and dirty pirates, but men and women so beautiful they looked like fairies instead of humans, as if it was not a ship that was sailing, but a palace instead. The captain of the ship was a gallant young man dressed in red, a rare, peculiar scimitar hanging on his waist. It was said that he had only one eye, and he was known by the name Hua Cheng. Beside him, there would always be an extremely beautiful person donned in white, and the two were never seen to be apart.

But who could testify how accurate these descriptions were? Everything was a mere hearsay, for every single ship who came too close to the Ghost Ship, bewitched by its glory, would disappear without a trace. Were they sunken? Were they eaten? Were they spirited away to the ghost realm? Nobody knows. This Hua Cheng and his Ghost Ship were like a harbinger of death disguised as gold and flowers.

Hence a warning was soon spread amongst the seafarers, "If you hear the mermaids' singing, turn around and never look back, for it means the Ghost Ship is sailing nearby, and those who laid their eyes on Hua Cheng and his beautiful companion in white would never live to tell the tales."

As for whether the merfolks really did hide a treasure trove equivalent to all the wealth in the world, or whether their blood could grant power and immortality, or whether they could turn into the most beautiful people out of water, who knows? Maybe skinny little Hong-er had a clue, but unfortunately he was no longer a creature of this world.

[meringuejellyfish]

men will literally almost get themselves killed due to recklessness and their neglect to ask for help and then be like I have to admit ...I wasn't expecting you to respond like that. I thought... perhaps you might be angry with me. No! You misunderstand! You haven't done anything wrong. Oh, Olruggio... Why ... are you willing to go so far for me...? ... I'm no match for you, am I... old friend? I quite like it here, you know? It’s peaceful ... and serene... with days so calm, you’d almost think them dull. And I love teaching the four of them magic ... and watching them learn and grow. What i mean is, I’m happy here. I’m content. fulfilled. i feel as though I’m suspended in illusion - like a trance set upon me by pollen from the spectre-smoke tree. And that ... is precisely why i cannot let go. The witch who stole my past... will not stop there. He would take from me my future as well. I have not spoken of my condition to anyone. Not even beldaruit. The state of my left eye is only known to us two. It began a few years ago. Lights around me seemed harsher than before. And at times... it aches. A deep and searing pain. The spell on my lens spares me from the brightest lights ... but it is only a matter of time. That is why, while I still have strength left to cast ... I want to do what I know must be done. The magic the brimmed caps labor to unlock in the dark of thristas ... the plan they formulate ... it must be stopped! I must reclaim the right eye they’ve stolen ... and destroy the thing before the plan is known to all! Do you remember ... that last adventure we embarked upon as boys? The tower of tomes ... contains a copy of every text in this world. Not just the ones bound as books. But the diaries, the records ... even the hastily scrawled memos ... thus its other name - “The tower of memories.” Few of the writings composed in thristas had remained - they’d been carefully disposed of with magic. But I did find one note - a scrap, really. And I remembered. I was the trial run. They were testing a new type of forbidden spell. A new possibility, overgrown with mayhem... scooped forth from the seeds of sown chaos. and the great cost which hope declares ... is none other than ... despair. Olly ... I do believe you would still help me, knowing all there is to know, you have a gentle soul. That’s why you chose to forgive me yet again. But I cannot have that. I’m sorry. Forgive me, old friend. Do not worry, you shall only forget the things pertaining to my secret. I’d believed myself quite adept at concealing the truth... but then again, I suppose you’ve always been skilled at sussing it out. Be the master Qifrey I’ve always been, hm? If only I could. believe me... I would very much like that, too.

[yandere-sins]

The Fox Wedding - Embrace the marriage (Kita)

Summary: You are to marry the fox spirit Kita Shinsuke after you accidentally agreed to become his wife by signing the deed to your new home. A contract is a contract, he says, but is there more to this marriage than you know? Will you be whisked away by one of the foxy twins instead, or have to marry Kita after all? Can you be with a creature that only seems tender on the surface, or will you try to run even if it might cost you your life? Choose your route carefully, you never know what these foxes are up to!

Characters: Kitsune!Kita Shinsuke x afab!Reader

Rating: Explicit   Warnings for this chapter: Yandere, Kidnapping, Forced/Unhealthy Relationship, Rough Handling, Mention of bite marks, Mention of Non-Con, Pregnancy, Mention of (not human) blood, Monsters, Mention of burns, Verbal threats

“Don’t you remember?” 

He asked you this again on that one gloomy night as you rearranged your kimono. You had gotten good at putting it on, not because you wanted to learn how to do it, but because it was the only thing that made you feel better about yourself. The way Shinsuke owned you was painful, stinging, and tear-inducing, and you felt better not having to see the countless bite marks of possession he put on you. Thus, you learned how to do it. Better you than a maid, or worse, Shinsuke himself. 

“I don’t.” 

Your answer was always the same. How long had it been that you two were wed on that sun-filled, rainy day? A month? Three? Half a year? Yet, he never stopped with his riddles, and this question was the only one that arose every once in a while. Your heart ached with the desire to go home, leave this godforsaken country to be where you belonged - where you never should have left. But of course, it wasn’t that easy. 

“I see,” he whispered, and from the moon shining in through the open windows in your shared bedroom, you could see him nod his head thoughtfully while his eyes focused on your stomach. “You were still so small back then. The smallest human I had ever met.” 

His soft smile was lost on you as you shook your head, unbelieving of his words. Shinsuke didn’t like unnecessary talks. He’d rather have a quiet morning than one filled with small talk you learned. And when he spoke, it was hard to accept what he said. Nothing good ever came from him saying your name. No affectionate string of words sounded like he meant it when he said it in the usual indifferent tone. An ‘I love you’ was quick to change into ‘Mind your manners’, and often he ignored your wishes in favor of fulfilling some kind of clan duties. 

Perhaps, the only moment you managed to catch him off-guard was when a doctor - or something close to that just less human than you liked - announced your pregnancy, but you had been too shocked to be able to react to the sincere smile on his face and the tight hug he gave you despite the news being more of a tragedy to you. It wasn’t the child’s fault, even you knew that, but from day one, you felt responsible for it yet devoid of the feeling that you could love the kid like a normal mother would. 

With your hand falling to the little bump on your stomach, you were glad it was still decent enough to not be immediately visible. Yet, as long as you were aware of the growing life inside you, the more you felt the dread of having to take care of yourself for its sake. There were worse wounds that Shinsuke could inflict on you, and unfortunately, you wouldn’t even put it past the clan to follow his lead rather than step in and stop him. It still made your blood freeze to think back to when you saw the real him for the first time. No, not him. The monster he was. 

It was hard to forget the ashen creature that brought fresh meat for the village. You always thought foxes were small, playful yet wild animals, but that didn’t seem to apply to fox spirits. These images kept flashing before your eyes as you stroked your belly reassuringly, the baby inside of you not yet in need of comfort, but you sure were. 

Fox spirits were tall as bears, and every one of them deadlier than a pack of wolves. It was bewildering to learn that Shinsuke wasn’t even fully grown yet, only six of nine possible tails emerging from his back once he turned into that beast. You could have sworn with his fox form being as tall as you were, he’d be at least grown out, and it unnerved you to imagine what he’d look like once he was. 

Even if he allowed you to pat his fur, nudged you into the affection despite smearing deer blood all over you, it was no less reassuring to know what he really looked like even if he acted like that. You had seen him snap a deer’s neck in two cleanly with his maw. You had heard him growl. And none of this made you any less afraid of your own husband, the father of your child. 

Involuntarily, Shinsuke had made you become what previously had been your worst nightmare. You were a healthy woman, so it was only a question of time until his forced intimacy would produce the child everyone around you was looking forward to. Except you, but how could you possibly be when this wasn’t what you wanted at all?

Even so, you realized the child was just another innocent soul in a much more complicated scheme of his ‘love’. One you still not understood even though he was so insistent that it existed. Nevertheless, you couldn’t let yourself be punished and endanger the little one, always seeing these huge, beastly creatures in your inner eye whenever you thought about running or misbehaving. However, you also couldn’t stop yourself from flinching when he reached over to caress your stomach, unable to forgive and, even more so, forget what all he had done to you.

Tearing you out of your life, your world even, force you into this relationship and himself on you, was small compared to the ‘lessons’ and ‘training’ he made you go through to become more fitting for your role as his wife. Your maltreated body was only one evidence of his ‘care’ and ‘love’ that he so generously had sworn to you before your wedding. There was no ‘happiness’ in sight even after being married for so long. If he thought that child made you happy, he had been wrong.

Answers. Answers would have made you happy - or at least, made this more endurable. 

“Back then, you were scared too.”

His palm clasped around your hand tightly as he began to circle it over the baby bump. He acknowledged your flinching, your fear. Though even if he noticed, he only ever did so in his favor, dismissing it to do whatever he pleased or continuing to force you into obeying his will. Shinsuke always looked serious and talked with logic, you wouldn’t have believed the slyness in all of his doings even though it dawned on you that it was one of the foxes’ main traits. 

“Back when?” you mumbled, wanting to pull out your hand but getting stuck in his grasp, sighing inwardly as you gave up on fighting him. Not when he was so close to the child. You didn’t want to risk upsetting him. 

“Twenty years? Thirty? Time--” Interrupting himself, Shinsuke let out a thoughtful hum, clearing his throat before he resumed speaking.” Time is tough to calculate when you live for so long. Day is day, night is night. Sometimes it snows, and sometimes it rains, and all the other days are mostly the same. Only now, you are here with me, and that makes me happier than anything else.”

This time, it was on you to ponder, wondering about the time frame. There was no reason to get upset about the fact Shinsuke didn’t seem to know your current age, nor how long it really had been. The message ’a long time ago’ was received by you either way. What you couldn’t rack your brain around was that there wasn’t an instance you could remember meeting Shinsuke before, especially since you hadn’t been to Japan when you were as young as he made it seem-

“Oh,” you whispered. Oh, you had been to Japan before as a child, with your family to visit friends that resided in this beautiful country. But you had forgotten all about it, how old had you been? Four? Maybe five? Now you remembered that the reason for your first trip as a teenager had been to see the country you had been to before but could barely remember since you were just a toddler back then. 

Finally sitting up from his futon, Shinsuke moved over to sit next to you, his right arm snaking around your waist while his left hand remained on your belly. “Do you remember it now?” he cooed softly, leaving a kiss on your cheek as he waited for an answer patiently. 

“There was a fox…” you mumbled, straining yourself to remember what happened so long in the past. “I think it was wounded.”

“Continue,” Shinsuke instructed gently, bringing his lips to your temple before brushing back your hair to continue down your neck, leaving pecks of affection behind wherever they wandered. 

“It was wounded, and I… I--”

“You gave me your rice ball,” he finished for you as you struggled with your words. 

“That was… you?” you slowly but surely pieced it together, and he nodded, pulling you closer to him and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His embrace was tight but less formal than any other touch he laid on you so far. A wave of honest emotions seemed to overcome him as you remembered, a voice of relief leaving him as your shared past revealed itself to you.

“But… But--” 

So many questions rushed into your head before you could even utter one of them. How much of what happened was coincidental? Was everything planned? Staged? Arranged? Your thoughts must have shown in your gaze, and though he only looked up for a split second, you were sure he noticed it as he chuckled a few times. 

“The truth is, back then, I wanted to kill you. I came back for you every day, and you were always playing in the garden, but your parents were always around watching you.”

Shinsuke sat up straight, instead now pulling you to lean on him and petting your hair. Your instinct detected hostility in his words, yet, your body told you to stay put and not allure him of the fear that crept up in you. You now remembered the silver fox you had met as a little kid, and though the memories were spare and rare, to think you could have died by his maw back then made a cold shudder run down your spine. 

“I didn’t want the humans to find out my clan was in that forest - now, this forest - I knew it would mean that I caused them to have to leave or hunters would come. However, when you did tell--”

“No one believed me…” This time you finished his sentence instead, and Shinsuke nodded. 

“I couldn’t rest, so I came back day after day, until suddenly… you were gone.” 

“Yeah, we flew back home after two weeks,” you mumbled, explaining it to him despite realizing you wished you had kept it a secret. He simply didn’t deserve knowing even a little bit more than necessary.

“Exactly.”

Gently rubbing your back, Shinsuke kissed your hair, his grip on you unbudging, but there was no notion and no feeling of yours that stayed hidden long from him. “Later I found out that the owner of that house - your family’s friends, I reckon? - were aware of us, and their ancestors were granted land from us to build their house in exchange for keeping this village and residents hidden. It’s passed down as a family secret.”

“And then…” For the first time, you sat up, and Shinsuke let you go without a moment of hesitation. Slowly, but surely everything made sense, even if those answers were less relieving than you had hoped. “I bought their house when they became too old to live there. Was that- Was that all planned?”

With your brows furrowing, you looked at his face, and Shinsuke closed his eyes for a moment thoughtfully, humming in contemplation. “Was it? Who knows. Once I learned the truth, I decided you shall be my bride.”

What a dissatisfying answer, you thought, and your expression faltered, body turning away in displeasure. For the first time since you were married, you heard him make a deep sigh, the shuffling of fabric behind you as Shinsuke inched closer, having recognized your defensive stance as telling him you weren’t all too happy with his story. 

“If we say fate brought us together, then destiny arranged everything. But I rather think that it was meant to be. You coming back to me is because we are meant for each other, [Name].”

“I don’t agree,” you muttered, feeling defeated. All this time, you had wondered how and why this all happened to you, but in the end, it really had just been Shinsuke’s doing. Part of you felt more betrayed, but the other half wasn’t actually feeling impressed by the knowledge. Disappointed, but not surprised, as a friend of yours always liked to say. “Then why the contract? Why set me up like this?”

“What do you think? Do you think you would have married me otherwise? Do you not despise me? Think that I am a monster? I think that’s what you called me before.”

The level of self-awareness was nothing you would have expected from him. Instinctively you would have liked to argue against him, but at the same time, his words depicted your feelings quite well. “Maybe I wouldn’t have thought that if you had--”

“[Name], please.” There it was again, the patronizing tone in his voice that had been the end to many of your conversations before. His arms wrapped around you from behind, lips landing at the back of your head as he mumbled into your hair. “I waited for you all this time, and know my feelings. There was simply no need for a year-long courtship and proving what I felt.”

“I could have needed it. Are my feelings that unimportant to you?”

Gripping his arms tightly, you dug your fingers in as best as you could. You had enough. Enough of his will being absolute and everything centering around him. All this misery just because he decided on marrying you long, long ago on his own. For the first time, you managed to pull out of his hold by your own strength, twirling around quicker than him being able to capture you again and complain. 

“You are a monster! I don’t care about your feelings either since you can’t seem to respect mine! I never wanted any of this!”

Gesturing loosely to him and your stomach, you made room for your anger, even getting up to stand your ground properly. You half expected him to follow, but Shinsuke kept sitting comfortable, merely lowering his eyes and shaking his head. “Calm down, [Name]. You’ll wake the whole village with your voice.”

“What if?! As if they didn’t know how I truly feel! As if they didn’t just turn a blind eye on this situation for your sake!”

“Arranged marriages are very common here--”

“But not arranged by the groom himself! And even so, you still forced me into this, I couldn’t even refuse! You… You beast! You monster! You’re the absolute worst being I ever met, and I hate you! I hate you so much!”

Finally, Shinsuke looked up again, his gaze calm and collected as always. It was the last straw that even now, he did not budge from his views, and you decided to do something you had tried to avoid ever since becoming pregnant. Turning on your heel, you marched towards the door, gripping into the depression of the sliding door to open it. As luck would have it, these kinds of doors didn’t have locks. Thus someone usually watched over you, never leaving you alone, but weirdly enough, it didn’t budge no matter how hard you pulled and tore on it, demanding quietly that it would move out of your way.

“[Name] stop. It’s not good for the baby to get so upset,” Shinsuke called after you, and you just knew he was standing up as he spoke, causing more pressure to fall onto your shoulders. You’d run away. No matter the cost, you wouldn’t stay here. Feeling the door heat up, you jumped away from it, shocked, looking at your fingers while eerie, small flames sparked up at the spot you just touched. By now, you were a little too familiar with foxfire and what it felt like, and yet, angry as you were, it only made you spin around to face him, not expecting to have his face right up in yours the moment you turned.

“I said, stop.”

“Then I won’t listen,” you hissed back at him, rubbing your fingers carefully as they trembled in fear. Never before had resisting him done you anything good, but you reached a point of no return. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” Shinsuke instructed again, his patience wearing noticeably thin as you were unbudging. “You go to bed. I am going home.”

Taking a deep breath, he stared you down with those sharp, shining eyes of his, a glare that usually made your knees buckle in fear. You never had given him such a hard time before, normally yielding before it got this far. In some way, it was thrilling, in another, nerve-wracking. 

“I’ll say it only once more,” Shinsuke warned, reaching for your wrist that you pulled away before he could reach it, slapping his hand away in the process. 

“Or what?” you spat at him, as disgusted as you could. This would end here, you decided. All of it: The fake marriage, your submissiveness, the way you played along and embraced your role as his wife until now. The child too, if you got out of this house, this village, and his clutches. 

“You saw the beast before.” Shinsuke spoke his words calm and slow, but his voice lowered dangerously as he kept up his glare unbudgingly. It was just his way of not losing his temper despite you being aware that he wasn’t going to be gentle from this point onwards. There was a never before heard tremble in his voice as he spoke again, the sentence making every inch of you freeze in fear.

Perhaps, you had needed that. One last attempt of being deviant. How else would you have learned that this place might not make you happy, but at least it was the only place that would keep you safe. Safe of Kita Shinsuke’s true nature, the one completely insane from his love for you. How else would you have known that calm waters were the deepest of them all? Deep enough to let you drown in them if you did anything to disturb them?

Maybe, being his wife wasn’t the worst there was. 

“But you haven’t seen the monster yet.”

The worst was Shinsuke himself.

a/n: Thank you for reading Kita’s route of this story, I hope you enjoyed it! I noticed last chapter that it didn’t seem as enjoyable than the Prologues, I still hope that you will move forward to explore the other routes and enjoy this experience ^-^ Let me know what you thought, that would make me very happy ♥

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[bring-it-all-down]

I think it’s easy to think of Vane’s season one arc as being out of place with the rest of his time on the show, but I’d like to offer an alternative understanding. I think that Vane’s arc is an extremely cohesive examination of Hobbes’s social contract theory that begins with its acceptance and ends with its complete rejection. This is a rather lengthy analysis, but it’s one that people might find interesting if not compelling.

Hobbes’s Social Contract Theory

Central to Hobbes’s conception of political life are four terms: liberty, equality, fear, and power. Liberty for Hobbes is “the absence of external impediments” such as water being enclosed by riverbanks or humans being chained to something (xiv). This conception of liberty is purely physical, detailing a relationship between concrete things. Next, Hobbes understands equality as being the equal ability of one to kill another; there is no natural inequality among human beings as anyone has the power to kill any other person, either through strength of body or of mind, or of some combination of the two. Because everybody has equal power over everyone else’s life and one’s ability to be free, Hobbes states, “they are in that condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man” (XIII). This condition necessarily leads to “continual fear, and danger of violent death” (xiii).  

Finally, Hobbes defines power as the ability to acquire some future good. This conception of power stems from the fact that there is no private property in Hobbes’s state of nature: “It is consequent also to the same condition that there be no propriety, no dominion, no mine and thine distinct; but only that to be every man’s that he can get, and for so long as he can keep it” (XIII). Power, according to Hobbes, manifests itself in two ways: natural or instrumental. Natural power is acquisition through using physical characteristics like strength and intelligence, whereas instrumental acquisition requires one to use one’s reputation, friends, good luck, etc. 

It is this fear of death and desire for acquisition that leads us to form political communities, which is our natural end; we are meant to live in communities. These communities form when their members “confer all their power and strength upon one man, or upon one assembly of men, that may reduce all their wills, by plurality of voices, unto one will” (xvii). This singular power, known as the Leviathan, is absolute; it cannot be transferred to another body (no separation of powers) or forfeited, and there is no power above it. The Leviathan enforces this power by tying its subjects through “fear of punishment to the performance of their covenants,” namely their covenant to live peacefully with one another (xvii). 

While the Leviathan’s power is absolute in theory, Hobbes does allow for its dissolution if it becomes too arbitrary or capricious on the ground that it would then plunge a civil society back into the state of nature, from which point they would be allowed to choose a new sovereign. However, because the state of nature is so feared, people are highly unlikely to dissolve the Leviathan’s power. This, then, is how authoritarian states justify their power.

In this account of the social contract theory of government, we see the relationship among liberty, equality, fear, and power. In order for people to fully exercise their liberty and power, their fear must be redirected from one another toward a singular entity. This creation of an unequal civil society is what allows for the development of private property, as well as concepts like justice and morality, which are absent in the state of nature due to the lack of agreed upon definitions. 

Vane’s Season 1 Arc

Initially, Vane appears to embrace a Hobbesian conception of the state of nature. His season 1 arc, I believe, is his embrace of Hobbes’s state of nature through the confrontation of the two people who hold power over him: Eleanor and his enslaver. After Eleanor gets him deposed as captain of the Ranger, he tells Idelle, “No captain on this island's ever known that kind of power. Power that doesn't care how many votes you can tally, who loves you, who hates you, who fears you...none of us have any right to hate her for it. She's strong and we're weak. That's the reality of things here. And no one down there is strong enough to change anything” (1.05). Here, Vane reduces things to power. Eleanor has the power to acquire private property and to cut off pirates from doing the same, and so people––including Vane––fear her. To them, she is a quasi-Leviathan figure. However, Nassau exists more as a state of nature than it does as a civil society, and so the possibility of being her equal remains.

While Eleanor threatens Vane’s power, he doesn’t fear her in the same way he fears his enslaver, Albinus, who threatens his life. This constant fear of Albinus manifests itself in Vane hallucinating Albinus’s presence in Nassau. This vision causes Vane to realize that if he is to become equal to Eleanor, he must first become equals with Albinus. He initially seeks to overtake Albinus through taking away his other slaves. He pitches Nassau to them as a place “where strong men live lives of pleasure, not labor, a place where you could be feared and respected once again” (1.07). For Vane, the pleasure comes through realizing one’s equality and thus one’s ability to instill fear rather than have fear instilled in them. As is typical in the state of nature, Vane’s relationship with Albinus ends first with Albinus believing he killed Vane and then with Vane actually killing Albinus. 

Vane’s conversation with Jack upon his return to Nassau cements his role as a Hobbesian figure. He tells Jack, “In some ways, Jack, it had to come to this, don't you think?...Me deciding if you live or die” (1.08). Over the course of the season, Vane has increasingly reduced relationships to the ability one has to kill the other and the fear such ability instills in people. Following a Hobbesian model, then, we would expect Vane to think the formation of civil society with a Leviathan figure to be good, but this is not where his season 2 and 3 arcs go.

Vane’s Season 2 Arc

Indeed, Vane quite explicitly rejects Hobbesian social contract theory. While Hobbes argues that humans are driven toward society in part because of a natural “desire of such things as are necessary to comfortable living” (xiii), Vane says to Flint, “‘Give us your submission, and we will give you the comfort you need.’ No, I can think of no measure of comfort worth that price” (3.08). For Vane, then, living in the “pre-political” Nassau is better than submitting to the power of the state. This is the case because no such “state of nature” exists; there will always be a state attempting to impose its authority on Nassau.

Vane’s separation from Hobbesian political thought, then, begins as a matter of practicality. He does not abandon fear of death as the starting point, but he expands his thought beyond himself. It is no longer simply his own fear of death that drives him, but the fear within his fellow pirates of that same death. After he learns that Charlestown has captured and will kill Flint he tells his and Flint’s crew that “Nassau is strongest when she’s feared. And if what promises to happen here tomorrow actually happens, a trophy made of one of her most notorious captains, she may never be feared again” (2.09). He reiterates this point to his quartermaster, who is concerned that his crew will kill Flint’s crew to steal the Man of War: “Tell them if this ship tries to run on a skeleton crew, they’re going to get chased, they’re going to get caught, and they’re going to get killed” (2.10). It is not fear of one another, then, that drives Vane toward a community but rather fear of the authority of the state. While he and Flint are equals, he realizes that neither is equal to the state, England, and if they remain as individuals, the state will kill them one by one.

Flint’s (and then Vane’s) trial stands as an example of a Hobbesian state; the lawmakers are the executors are the jury. All sovereign authority is placed in the hands of one body with no authority above it. When confronted with this example, Vane comes to conceptualize of community as the only means of instilling fear in the state; as the state is unified, so must be the pirates. 

In accord with Flint telling him “we remind them that they were right to be afraid,” he provides a refutation of Hobbesian sovereignty for the audience: “these men convinced you that they speak for you, that the power you’ve given them is used in your interests. That the prisoner before you is your enemy and they your friends. For those of you who live to see tomorrow... know that you had a choice to see the truth and you let yourselves be convinced otherwise” (2.10). He reminds them that they’ve granted the sovereign power on the basis of it working toward their collective good and can thus conceivably revoke said power. He then illustrates that the sovereign cannot fulfill its purpose of providing for their safety against the threat of pirates and therefore the covenant on which the sovereign’s authority is based is inherently faulty. He pokes metaphorical holes in Hobbes’s contract theory of government before he pokes literal holes in Charlestown with his canons.

Vane’s Season 3 Arc

Vane’s season 3 arc offers an alternative foundation for civil society than fear and desire for property: friendship. When Vane confronts Jack in the first episode of the season for lying to Vane about using slave labor to rebuild the fort when Vane stood up for Jack against Flint, Jack lays it out for Vane: “you and I had been through enough shit for you to know that I would do the same for you, that I have done the same for you, and would again without hesitation. I made a commitment to you, with you, to restore this place, to make it strong again...Please know that I meant no slight by it. No lack of respect or friendship. It's quite the opposite” (3.01). Vane is certainly right to be angry about enslaving people, but Jack is correct in reminding him that this new effort to free Nassau has as its basis friendship and mutual respect.

At this point, however, Vane does not yet understand what friendship entails. For that, he needs to confront his understanding of friendship, which he does through the return of Edward Teach to Nassau. The conception of friendship Vane learned from Teach is simply to let people live when you could have killed them. Teach did this for Vane when Vane betrayed him for Eleanor, and he did it for Jack after Jack lost the pearls in the ocean, and it was his offer to Eleanor after she betrayed him by freeing Abigail from him. 

When Teach offers to defend Nassau if afterwards Vane sails with him away from Nassau forever, he outlines what their relationship is: “I do not seek your partnership because I am too weak to defend myself. I don't seek it to protect my things or to increase profit...There is an instinct to leave behind something made in one's own image. Nature has denied me the ability, it would seem, but not the need” (3.03). This understanding of their relationship rejects the fundamental Hobbesian basis for such things––it’s not fear of death or desire for acquisition––and instead points toward a desire for a certain kind of immortality. However, this relationship still fundamentally falls within a Hobbesian conception of the family which is artificially constructed in civil society and which requires the children to obey and honor their fathers. Therefore, this, too, is a relationship not based on friendship.

It is Jack’s conversation with Vane before he leaves with Teach that offers Vane a different kind of friendship. Despite Woodes Rogers’ early arrival ruining their plans to defend Nassau and the target placed not only on Vane but on all pirates close to him, Jack refuses to leave with Vane. His refusal is predicated on the fact that he desires freedom: “Teach respects you...but me, I have no interest in living as a target of his….Nor would I be a ward of yours. I've made something for myself here. I'll make it again somehow, but I've come too far to go back” (3.04). Here, Jack presents friendship as a type of equality predicated on freedom. Friendship must be a choice rather than the obligation to repay a debt, and it must result in some type of good for the parties beyond the acquisition of material goods. Jack refuses to go with Vane because his desire to make something of himself is greater than his desire to live a subservient life.

Flint reiterates this notion of freedom to Vane when he comes to ask him to rejoin the effort to free Nassau from England. Vane tells him “my pledge to him began a long time before I ever knew your name. What I owe him…” (3.06). In response, Flint says this project is too important to be clouded by any of that: “Forget me, forget Teach, forget loyalty, compacts, honor, debts, all of it. The only question that matters is this. Who are you?” (3.06). While Hobbes defines liberty in relation to external impediments, both Jack and Flint understand it as something greater than that, something that points inward and moves beyond the desire for safety or the terms of contracts, be they written or otherwise.

After being presented with this understanding a second time, Vane finally accepts it as true. He leaves with Flint to join the revolution. He allows himself to be arrested in order to free Jack. He does all of this on the basis of this new understanding of friendship. When Jack asks why he came back to Nassau, Vane jokingly tells him, “got worried you two'd be lost without me,” but it’s more sincere than joke (3.08). He is committed fully to liberating Nassau not to return it to the days of Teach but to provide it as a counter to the social contract theory of civil society. His final speech before being hanged reveals this shift in his political thought:

These men who brought me here today do not fear me. They brought me here today because they fear you. Because they know that my voice, a voice that refuses to be enslaved, once lived in you. And may yet still. They brought me here today to show you death and use it to frighten you into ignoring that voice. But know this. We are many. They are few. To fear death is a choice. And they can't hang us all (3.09). 

He has gone from believing the fear of death to be the greatest fear, the motivator for all human action, to somebody choosing to let civilization kill him. He does this because he now knows there are things worse than death and things greater than physical freedom. He does this because he understands that he owes his fellow pirates the chance to obtain this freedom for themselves. He does this because he has come to recognize that friendship is the act of helping people better themselves.

Conclusion

Vane’s arc therefore acts as a critique of Hobbesian social contract theory. He demonstrates that the sovereign’s power is based on an illegitimate conception of human nature that emphasizes the desire to dominate others. But he also illustrates the fundamental problems with living in a pre-political community attempting to exist outside of the sovereign power. Through his arc, then, we are presented with the fact that a legitimate society based on true friendship in achieving the good of all is not only possible but is worth the sacrifice of one’s life.

[leportraitducadavre]

On Itachi, his fandom, and moral standpoints

Once again I come back with a meta, unsurprisingly, of Naruto’s manga and, more specifically, about a character in particular, Uchiha Itachi, his fandom and what it entails and represents. My decision to make him the primary focus of this meta is just to bring light (open the door for more in depth debates) of a deeper, much more complicated problem that Itachi represents, but undoubtedly surpasses him and the Naruto manga as a whole.

Be warned, my take on Itachi’s fandom does not contemplate those fans who merely enjoy him but do not negate important parts of his character, if that’s your particular case, then be assured that I did not have you in my mind when writing this. This is about, let’s say, the hardcore fandom he possesses, that justifies (and to some extent, celebrates) his implications in the UCM and blindfold loyalty to Konoha and its system.

How can I even begin to introduce Itachi’s character? What he was supposed to be and what he surprisingly became? How to start to explain his fenomenon? Itachi was not supposed to be good, from his introduction he was a manipulative, dark character that tortured physically and mentally Sasuke and was a threat to Naruto’s (the protagonist) life. At no point during the first part of the manga were we able to see glimpses of a “good” Itachi that the narrative later on tried to establish, and yet, there were three (conected) factors of imperative importance to understand the raise of his character from the first part of the manga to the other. 

The first one was, let’s call it, his intrinsecal persona's appeal (and everything it encompases).

Itachi’s not the first cryptic male character that gets favored by a large part of the fandom for that mere trait (look at any shönen or show and see how many characters whose sole trait is to be mysterious becomes the fandom’s favorite), added to the fact that he’s powerful enough to subdue men who’s status of geniuses are often highlighted in the manga (Orochimaru and Kakashi), and his... physical charm, you have a powerful combo to make readers incline more and more on his favor. Itachi had sparked their interest. 

There are boxes to fill to attract the public interest to a character, and Itachi filled in all of them. 

The Power-Mystery-Beauty triangle is not an unknown formula (Christian Gray, Edward Cullen, to name characters from mainstream, from other manga there is Light, now surprisingly, Dabi) and in every fiction work it has appeared, it worked to lure the (female) public towards it.

But is that enough? For some, yes, for most, Itachi represents something that they desired profoundly, and that’s entirely attached to Sasuke’s character.

Even back in the first part of the manga, Sasuke’s character was received mixedly, there were people who saw his personality as too abrasive (similar to Itachi’s but because Sasuke was supposed to be with the nice guys, this aspect of him clashed rather harshly with his position on the narrative) and considered him a mere emo who believed himself to be better than Naruto and Sakura (he was, but he also acknowledged this fact, which make some readers disapprove of him even more). 

Itachi challenged that “so-called” superiority, additionally downgrading and humiliating him in a way readers felt he, to some extent, deserved. The dislike of part of the fandom of Sasuke’s character found a way of purchase inside the manga. Naruto wasn’t strong enough (and eventually cared too much) to subdue Sasuke, Sakura was too in awe with him to “stand up against him”, Kakashi saw his greatness and taught him powerful jutsus while paying zero attention to his other students. Until Itachi, no other character seemed to put Sasuke “in his place”, because even the villains of each arc seemed particularly obsessed with Sasuke and Sasuke only, elevating even more his importance and status and sidelining Naruto and (of course), Sakura, who were left with mere participations in what seemed a Sasuke-focused plot. Up at this point, Sasuke was far more important than the actual protagonist of the manga but Itachi, who was actually Sasuke’s goal, who was actually the person Sasuke aspired to surpass, abused him, manipulated him and -more importantly- seemed more focused on getting Naruto -hence, retribution: the only person Sasuke seemed to care about didn’t seem care about him at all.

Itachi’s coolness, strength and mature handsomeness (that Sasuke did not present until Shippuden, but Itachi was literally introduced with), plus the dislike of Sasuke’s character and the belief that he needed to be rectified, the reason of which will be brought up next, appealed the teenage fandom in a way strong enough to catapult him inside the popularity polls just right after his presentation. 

The Self-inserts inside Itachi’s fandom

As I introduced, a large part of the fandom back in the first part already, and in Shippuden particularly, had a deep dislike of Sasuke’s character and wanted him to suffer -to be beaten, to be “owned”, Itachi’s character fulfilled that wish, which takes me to the second factor. 

You can’t explain this point in particular without adding the “self-insert” and “reader-insert” notions that often gets attached to Itachi (Sakura, Naruto and Hinata) fans, 

“Self-insertion is a practice by authors of writing themselves into their own stories, either explicitly or in thinly-disguised form; in a fannish context this most often means fan writers writing themselves into their favorite source material so that they can interact with canon or its characters” (X)

Whilst

“Reader-Insert is a type of fanfiction, almost always written in 2nd person Point of View; the protagonist is always the reader, and is usually paired with one of the canon characters. "Reader-insert" typically has a hyphen hyphen, but is also known as Canon X Reader (sometimes CanonXReader).” (X)

In this particular case, many readers had succumbed to something slightly in between. The manga doesn’t belong to them, so the only one in position to literally self-insert is Kishimoto (canonically), so they are left with the option of attaching themselves personally to a pre-existed character with whom they feel somewhat represented. If not, then at least they attach emotionally to a character because it represents what they desire (this can be more observed in the shipping part of the fandom). Meaning, they use a canon established character that is not literally the reader, but who clearly represents them or represents what they want in their significant (romantical) other. 

Sakura was the only female lead who had a crush on the cool guy, readers (particular female ones) didn’t need much to feel a connection with her (during the first part, Kishimoto didn’t even give them much to do so, but they still attached to her with the prospect of what she might become), while Naruto was the dead last, it appealed to those who also felt that they weren’t popular or were mistreated by their peers.

But what the self-inserts of Sakura or even Naruto had to do with the increasing love for Itachi? 

To explain this in a way that can be understandable: Sakura fans who believed Sasuke disrespected her when not acknowledging her feelings or when downgrading her skills often turned their attention to the man of similar physique and strength to fulfill their fantasies of reciprocation -because canonically, Itachi had neither rejected, nor downgraded her character. In the same fashion, Naruto fans who believe Sasuke is egotistical by not caring for/acknowledging Naruto in the same manner he does (hence, not deserving him), tend to also indulge in the same type of behavior previously mentioned. 

Later on, when the narrative introduces the idea that Itachi stands alongside Konoha (Naruto and Sakura), thus, against Sasuke (from an idealistic standpoint), this particular practice deepens, grows. They feel validated on their idea that Itachi will treat  their favorite character (them) better, while at the same time punishing Sasuke for rejecting them.

There are not many cases of Itachi self-inserts, I’m not denying their existence however because he did fulfilled a wish many readers had (against Sasuke), but Itachi’s self-insert part of the fandom seems to be more in terms of female character fans that desire their favorite kunoichi to be loved/desired/respected? by a powerful, handsome, mysterious character. 

Sasuke’s importance in the narrative (and character growth)

Sasuke escaping Konoha to get to Orochimaru, train, and become strong enough to defeat Itachi and avenge his clan won’t hold up for the four hundred or so chapters Naruto Shippuden lasts. After Itachi’s defeat at his hands, Sasuke had no reason not to return to Konoha, more importantly, he had no reason to fight Naruto as it was the intention and ultimate and most important clash in the manga since the introduction of their rivalry. 

Sasuke’s growth as a character (that I spoke more detailed in this post) was tied to the introduction of a deeper, more important problem: Konoha’s involvement in the UCM. It wasn’t new in Naruto to present the dichotomy and harsh truths of the shinobi system (Hyuga clan, Haku, Jinchurikis), and the intervention of Konoha’s government in the massacre of the Uchiha clan provided the narrative with a reason to have both Sasuke and Naruto fighting in different sides of the battlefield, but also presented a deeper problem: Itachi couldn’t be bad.

He couldn’t stand in the “bad” side of the field because both, that would put Naruto (the hero) in the same morally bad position, and Itachi's fandom (which was massive), was eager for redemption, they demanded it, and Naruto is not a manga that doesn’t get influenced by what its purchasers want. In consequence, they needed to justify Itachi’s actions. We can talk about how abysmally bad they did it, we can talk about how much better this problem could have been sorted out, but that is not the core of this post. 

Kishimoto loved Sasuke, I have said this before, despite the fandom wishes, he stood his ground when it came to Sasuke and his revolutionary position until the very end. Maintaining that ideal as just, put Naruto (hence, Itachi) in the wrong. But because the narrative needed Naruto to be good and in the right, he ended up justifying genocide by justifying Itachi.

Consequently, and with the appeal he earned with his introduction and the Sasuke-hate (self-inserts), Itachi became a favorite character amongst favorite characters despite being a plot holes with legs. Readers eagerly consumed whatever panel proved that Itachi was not the bad guy he was previously believed to be. (proved or at least didn’t show, Itachi still commited genocide, but we don’t get to see such attrocities so its easier to forget he slaughtered innocent people, children amongst them). Readers who liked him were desperate for the narrative’s validation.

Core of the issue

Which brings me to the core of the post and in retrospection, I have already presented it: moral standpoints. This is not new, I’m not introducing any new idea, and this is hardly something that happens solely in the Naruto’s (and most specifically Itachi’s) fandom. Liking or not a character is tied to so many subjective variables that it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what makes a character desirable or despicable despite solid traits being commonly shared on particular troups. And yet, liking or not a character became a moral standpoint for which people judged each other on a personal level. It has happened since always, but the internet did nothing but make more accessible and public this type of clashes. Therefore, Redemption Arcs became the most precious gem inside fictional works and Naruto fell for it, and fell hard. 

It’s almost mandatory to have the narrative’s validation in order to enjoy a character freely and Naruto provided it to Itachi’s fandom. His actions were justified by the manga and the most important (and beloved) characters stood by his side, even those who were victims of him forgave his actions because there was someone (with less appeal and more morally questionable actions under his belt) to blame further. Having the narrative’s moral validation is more important than actually being in the right. 

Itachi was manipulated by the Will of Fire who he learned from Hiruzen who was passed to him by Tobirama who created it because he was raised during the Warring States Period, so his apprehension to the Uchiha was justified. It’s a train of justifications that ultimately holds no one responsible for the genocide of an entire clan/race which then becomes something bound to happen. So to save face, they use an escape goat: Danzo and the Curse of Hatred. They put the blame of the massacre to a single character and the actual victims because, well, they were genetically prone to disaster and killing them was the only way to ensure (temporary) peace.

Liking a character doesn’t automatically mean condoning its actions but because that subjective appeal became more and more the reflection of the reader’s ideals (for some reason I’m not here to trace), those two actions merged, which translated consequently into demanding the narrative’s validation of our tastes. There’s no denial of the pleasing sensation that comes with having the plot’s endorsement for liking a complex/morally gray or even dark character, but that approval turned to be the most important/valuable requirement, which, in turn, made readers justificate (supported by the narrative) despicable actions, such as genocide. 

Let’s go back to the second bullet point, self- inserts, as to discern more in depth their reasons to look for a justification on Itachi’s character: Itachi (an Uchiha that was not affected by the Curse, as his peers were) who the narrative proclaims wanted his brother’s safety and happiness above all things, stands morally with Konoha (hence, the readers’ favorite character). Therefore, justifying his actions is justifying Sakura and Naruto’s actions against Sasuke (manipulation is alright because Itachi did it, trying to kill Sasuke because he didn’t want to bend to their will is alright because Itachi did it), it gives them reasons to believe that they are on the right side of the battlefield, it gives them moral superiority. They’re in the right, they are good people, Sasuke was too deep in his hatred to either see it or correspond their feelings and that’s why he needs to be saved, and who more appropriate to do so than the two characters that were mocked by him during the first part of the manga? Even in the end, Itachi still gives them the retribution they still feel deserve and that Sasuke -still- didn’t give.