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bl88dN0lll

margo
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Literature

The First Finger: Luxuria

I have seven scars etched on the side of my heart, And five fingers to spare that are inches apart. No finger, no love, can consume all the lust, It shall haunt and shall daunt as my dreams turn to dust. Perverted eyes stare on in worry and fear, One's balance of clean thoughts, true love living clear. Between faulting symmetry of bodies left to rot, Or emotions intimate which pure souls have sought. So cruel, so mean, Our stereotypes of them, This snide joke, This useless comment, What kind of civilization are we? We've all succumbed, All been corrupted, By the one little phase, Hopefully overcome, By the mature and the trut

All

11728 deviations
Literature

The First Finger: Luxuria

I have seven scars etched on the side of my heart, And five fingers to spare that are inches apart. No finger, no love, can consume all the lust, It shall haunt and shall daunt as my dreams turn to dust. Perverted eyes stare on in worry and fear, One's balance of clean thoughts, true love living clear. Between faulting symmetry of bodies left to rot, Or emotions intimate which pure souls have sought. So cruel, so mean, Our stereotypes of them, This snide joke, This useless comment, What kind of civilization are we? We've all succumbed, All been corrupted, By the one little phase, Hopefully overcome, By the mature and the trut

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2135 deviations
Literature

The First Finger: Luxuria

I have seven scars etched on the side of my heart, And five fingers to spare that are inches apart. No finger, no love, can consume all the lust, It shall haunt and shall daunt as my dreams turn to dust. Perverted eyes stare on in worry and fear, One's balance of clean thoughts, true love living clear. Between faulting symmetry of bodies left to rot, Or emotions intimate which pure souls have sought. So cruel, so mean, Our stereotypes of them, This snide joke, This useless comment, What kind of civilization are we? We've all succumbed, All been corrupted, By the one little phase, Hopefully overcome, By the mature and the trut

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Literature

meditation on 'darkness'

vista of unadulterated darkness (the space behind my eyes containing all), until the point becomes, creating starkness: as i am seeing it, into i fall.                                          2006 torus: a self-enfolded pathway without end. entrance gained through exiting the self; stepping outside my perception, having faith in non-things beyond mind. the unreal seeds the real. sink to the bottom of the endless, pass through

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