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LifeBlurring, aching, shaking, breaking.
No hope, no chance, no desire, no life.
Remember, linger, ponder, wonder.
No why, no reason, no hint, no answer.
Worry, hate, fear, escape.
The Joker and The ThiefThe world is but a Joker and a Thief.
A show and tell of love and hate.
Illusions of knowledge and power.
While true nature's fate mocks and laughs.
Stealing hopes, dreams, and life.
One may believe, hope, and wish for
life to have its triumphs and failures.
Alas this is all but the Joker's tale.
The tale is told as the thief does his dues.
Stealing any chance of power.
For we are not actors on this stage,
nor are we the spectators,
rather, we are the stage itself.
The base on which the joke is being told.
ToxinFaster faster they travel,
moving through every cell.
Corrupting. Polluting. Intoxicating.
Louder louder he yells,
at every one he loves.
Hurting. Punishing. Breaking.
Further further it goes,
changing every known feature.
Forgetting. Vanishing. Leaving.
Harder harder they struggle,
dangling on every faint hope.
Praying. Begging. Loving.
Brighter brighter is the light,
radiating to every corner.
Inviting. Welcoming. Caring.
Warmer warmer his eyes
become with every minute.
Surviving. Controlling. Conquering.
Defenses are up, guards are posted, the locks on the door.
Standing outside is a person, like many before.
Waiting, pleading, and begging to be let in.
But the man in the tower only looks down with caring eyes.
Because no one is ever let in.
Hours become days.
She stays and waits.
Days become weeks.
She is still standing outside, with the guards now gone.
Weeks become months.
She remains loyal, and the door unlocks.
Suddenly the tower changes from its gloomy state.
To a happier, and more loving place.
Life is great, the world is anew, everything because she had stayed true.
Defenses are gone, and hope is all that is left.
The BottleThe bottle hits the ground as I cover my face.
Her memory fills my thoughts of her loving grace.
As the bottle rolls away, I remember the day.
The day she cried and walked away.
Her love was strong, true, and caring.
Yet I chose the empty and sorrowed bottle.
Its toxins I craved but now despise.
For I lost.
I lost the love of my life.
A ChainA chain is rugged, restricting and strong.
Held by those who are too scared to let go.
Long or short, its bond does not break.
The victims are stopped short of their desires.
Such selfishness and doubt, I could not imagine.
For I hold my heart, rather the chain.
It is scared and tough, but healed.
Distance plays no part, its bond does not break.
The privileged are left to their hopes and dreams.
Such caring and devotion, I strive to maintain.
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More