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I Believe In...I don't believe in Angels,
I don't believe in God.
I don't believe in Demons,
I don't believe in the Devil.
I believe in the universe,
I believe in the conscience
to do what is right.
I don't believe in Heaven,
I don't believe in Hell.
I don't believe in bowing down
and baring my soul to a man.
I believe in standing straight
and knowing what I want.
I believe in evil,
I believe in betrayal.
I believe in love,
and I believe in happiness.
I believe in souls,
but I don't believe in reincarnation.
How can someone believe in one set thing
when there is so much else in this world
to believe in?
Let's Play a Game“Let’s play a game,” Death said to me.
“And whoever wins the first ten rounds will get a second life for free.
The rules are simple, so listen to me.
You must first be born a he or she
With traits categorized, one to three;
The rest will come later, you will see.
You will begin off with guidance and support partially.
Loneliness will come upon you when you are not healthy mentally,
But you will be the key to unlock an antidote to your own disease…possibly.
The trick to the game, though, is to live fully and responsibly without a visit from me.
Live 100 years the way you want, and I’ll gladly give another life to thee.”
“Let’s play a game,” Life said to me
“And whoever wins the first ten rounds will get to live for eternity.
The game is tricky, so listen carefully.
You will be born a he or she
And from the very beginning given a number, one to three.
The numbers represent a path you are willing to go without attempting t
That I am not myself
I am the faceless waste of my influences
That I obey the media like a god
And society like a saint
That I am one of the crowd
I do what is expected
What is wanted and what is told
Even when I know it is wrong
That I cannot think
I am a walking machine
That has given up freedom and thought
For the sake of a simpler life
That I hate based on color
On sex and religion
Unless it is popular
To say I love instead
That I am a murderer
A thief and a scoundrel
I witnessed the greatest crimes of our time
And stood by in silent admiration
That I hated because they told me to
I killed because I wanted to
And lied because I could
But worse, I let others do the same
That I'd do anything they'd allow
And everything they'd want
That I prefer to hate myself
Then for them to hate me
All this I confess
Let me be your poem.Let me melt the cold pain from your skin, transform into the sun and heat your hurt––so it evaporates into white clouds of hope that inspires the trees to sway.
Let me touch you like the first story I've ever read in brail, after deciding to go deaf before letting another sound replace your voice.
Let me shatter every tiny ounce of doubt from your being, using the weight of my love for you–– to demolish it's once relevant place in your thoughts.
Let me carve holes in to the night sky, so you can see how my universe revolves solely around you, making the moon shine bright with jealousy.
Let me fly you to the nearest nebula, so we can finally be as high as this love makes me feel.
Let me drive you crazy like a mirage in a desolate desert, making you crave it so much you imagine it in front of you, dying for a taste.
Let me be the sun to warm you and you can be the rain to cool us down, and we can make the sky blush a million different colours.
Let me be the baseli
Confession about me Silent StrengthI am strong, but please never confuse this strength with invulnerability.
I do hurt.
I do cry.
I do love.
I do feel.
I do get crushed.
I do regret.
But please never think that while I may never show these things in front of you, that I don’t feel them.
Because I do.
More than you could ever imagine.
I’m a hyper sensitive person, forced into a role of strength.
It is just a rare occasion when my reserve breaks and I show it in front of people.
And when this happens, I reach a state of such openness and vulnerability that I fear.
Because I can withstand a thousand blows, but just one word can cut me down. And at that moment, I fear what could be said to me.
I’m very sorry if anyone who see this thinks of me as cold, or heartless, or unfeeling.
It's just in my life, I have had people who rely on me to be the strong one who keeps a level head and calm emotions.
And so when I break in front of someone, I apologize profusely.
Because what if they were someone that needed me
Moments of YouFrom the moment I saw you,
I wanted to touch you.
From the moment I touched you,
I wanted to feel you.
From the moment I felt you,
I wanted to taste you.
From the moment I tasted you,
I wanted more.
Then I saw you again,
the same, but different.
From that moment I saw you again,
I wanted you forever.
The heroes of old.Let the old heroes rest
beneath ancient stones
buried in history and dressed in legends.
Let the old kings rise
in marble and gold
for all to see and praise in forgotten stories.
And when time comes
for the legends to breed life
let then the old heroes serve their kings
in ever lasting stories of the golden past.
The Stray I AmI have no place in this world.
I just float from space to space.
Talking to this boy and that girl,
each time wearing a different face.
Coming from nowhere and having nothing,
I try to find some form of peace.
From place to place I keep on jumping,
occupying shelter without maintaining a lease.
I transform from this person to that person,
whoever I need to be for the occasion.
struggling through bouts of internal coercion,
losing myself more and more in these alterations.
Always on alert, preparing for the next move,
in a moments notice I can pick up and run.
React on impulse, jumping into new shoes.
Walking in the next life until its worn out and done.
Pick up a new life, leave the old behind,
And yes, its that easy. There's nothing to miss.
Take a look at my past, see what you find.
A stray who did what he had just to exist.
You won't finda life lived with integrity,
no great achievements that warrant any pride.
Just a rocky timeline of vague activity,
A small spot on the world just
Do you see?You see these tears?
I’m not shedding them for you.
You see my smile?
I’m not grinning for you.
You see my eyes?
They aren’t lighting up for you.
You see my blood?
It isn’t burning for you.
You feel my heart?
It’s not beating for you.
You know these feelings
That keep me up till 3am?
It’s not because of you.
You see the way I make
Extravagant hand motions when I’m excited?
That’s not for you.
You feel my rage and anger?
That is indeed for you.
Do you still not see?
Do you still not understand?
After all the times
I have hurt you
And thrown you away….
You still want to be here
You still want to be by my side…
Maybe it is me who does not see…
Maybe it is me who does not understand….
That even after all those times…
You do understand
I’m not really mad at you…
I’m just upset at myself…
You’ll always be my friend…
Maybe I’ll never know why….
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More