Silence Is a Seed That Grows To Be a Realization.

"Love, it strikes and despite how ready you are from its blow, you find yourself succumbing to it because you see that love's plans are much better than yours."

~In dedication to 09053294942, who made me realize this phrase. I guess love is the only true fountain of happiness in the world and once you've found it, you'll find that the happiness you are feeling is profound.

Poetry: Titanomachy

Opaque gases descend

Choking the contour

Of your flaunting façade.

Choking your pizzazz

With the eirenic

Weapon of mass destruction;

You had an affaire

With Uranus you made tie.

Incest.

Smelling the scent of your hair

The heavens can't get enough.

Sitting on your calm sinew,

Can you feel

The weight of the cosmos

That was supposed to be centered

On Mount Othrys,

On the shoulders of Atlas?

Nyx chasing,

Hypnos casting enchantments,

Uranus move away

The veil you have laid,

Let Helios sneak a glimpse

And witness her placid curve.

Poetry: Chelsea's Grin

Wide but unfelt,

Quiet and unmerry.

Chelsea's smile,

When can you see?

Cold molten clay

Cascading over enamel.

Rotten masterpiece

Six feet underground.

A metronome of nonexistence.

Til' Eros' home in

Stop vibrating.

Under austere

Bricks and Mortar cage.

For everyone

Whom fall asleep

Until the final weight

Is set on the Window,

Please remember Chelsea

Whom smiles pure agony

Of the slit

On her face.

Will you ever see?

No, you will not

For it is your Chelsea's smile

Stark and as white

As Chelsea's painstaking

Grin.

Poetry: A Serpent 'Round the Shrub

Under the shade

Of the Shrub of the Wise

Hath he slept?

Or hath waiteth

For the serpent

Of the sooty Hole?

Adamesque

Hath the receptacle

Really fell?

Or was it a free Pome?

Evesque,

Hath he bit?

What was given

By the Hydra

Of deep frozen Waters.

Upon tasting

Mouth-watering

Flesh from the Clinger

.Hath he turneth wiser?

And now can tell

How thing really fell?

Downward force in motion

Can this be a metaphoric allusion?

Of how our Wrongs

Can drag us Below.

Double Entrendez it is,

A warning to stay in path

Poetry: Anomaly with the Rock

Saint Peter your Cloak

Black as ashen oak,

Withdrawn from the Closet

Your Chamber of Secret.

In twilight

While hues ignite

That seeks to burn the castle

Of a dozen archaic apostle

 St. Peter you'll and shall take flight

Ala-Thanatos with his Scythe.

O Rocky, O Rocky!

O Peter, O Peter!

Do you hide behind

The whiteness of your kind?

For you have been the rock

From which the kingdom cropped.

Are you merely a saint?

Or an Angel jet black?

Are you the escort of Death?

Or are you death?

Do you have a heart as rock as you are?

Or do you even have a heart?

Babysit the Candle light,

Make sure it gleams bright,

For when it turns faint

Scorn you for spilling glum paint.

Saint Peter

Can I ask?

Are you death?

Poetry: Ecce Homo

Agonizing Apparition.

Guiltless Potteries.

Heir y Potter.

Tripartite Hiatus

Due to Quietus.

Ostracism.

With Crown

Of humiliation.

Parade with

Inhumane Rood.

Gaea's face

Is cleansed

Of Horns.

Thee drank bitterness,

Endured torture

And redeemed

Our Faculties.

Thee transformed

Water into wine,

Mysterium tremendum,

And yet lost it

In your Veins.

Forgiveness is frugal

We are unnoosed

From the Pit.

Close thine eyes,

Stop thy hands, do not Cross;

Omne ignotum pro magnificos.

Give gratitude to the epitome

Of the apparition.

Ecce Homo,

Memento mori.