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  Step Out! Out, Out from the gloom, The obscure breath of doubt Take stone, break thy yoke, Let trouble fall, let shoulders be lifted, Flow, to the heavens Be but strain no more, Open wide, thy mouth, Let prayer fill thy tongue Be parched no more. Stillness in heart  Though seas roar like lions, And beast snarl among mist, Step,  Out! To mercy of life, Ease, be reborn. Let no shackle of past Be meaning for tear Take hammer,  Fracture the cumbersome Be feet of swift Fill your days with strides, Though dunes widen And heat scorches thy soles. Out, Step out from thy fear, There is another to call To breach, To reach your heart  Though thee be of man, Let not thy eyes of flesh Be the dealings of truth, Wander, In aspect to be whole Be not the coward hidden in cave, A creature curled  Like frightened doe, For he walks beside thee, Like king among his men, A sword of greatness Sways from his belt, Ready, To swing against thy enemies, A presence more bold  Than all the stars of a pitch sky.
I have been writting poetry on medium, does anyone still wish me to write short stories on here? 

The Blameful Two

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The Blameful Two  The world broke as their hearts bled the shadows of their misery. Seeping upon the world, flooding with the scars of agony. Their eyes trembling beneath the moonlight as their blood stained hands shimmer.   Their lips sewn as each is caught in a lie. Both bare, exposed to their duality. Their curtains drawn thus unmasks the bodies they have slain. The skeletons of truth dragged through the spoils of deceit.  Each, unwilling to speak. Their cheeks flush in rose petals. Their skin taut to the anxiety of their arrest. They are now the victims of themselves and each the other.  Two hell's preached in the underbelly of their weakness. The fraudulent thought in avoidance of pain. And now they stand as nude as the beginning of life, Adam and Eve.  Shaking, they are without words. Silent, bearing only tears that fall to the blood soaked floors. The dark whirlpools of hypocrisy. Neither is without sin and neither is without murder.  Their souls weep dearly a

I Had Forgotten

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 I Had Forgotten     Red smoke plumes in the air. A brilliant, yet daunting sky of clouded crimson thickens the sky in sheets of billowed cotton. It rises with no sense to stop. The atmosphere frightens, yet heightens the senses with a strange tingle of pleasure.  We are losing our homes to the natural order. Yet I am not taken by tears, but by an odd joy of entertainment. For too long have I adhered myself to these pieces of physical wealth. Yes, through struggle, persistence and consistent efforts I have dawned myself with such rewards.  But for too long now, I have forgotten the path I had been taken. I had forgotten the many beads of sweat I spewed from the exhaustion to gain such things. I had forgotten the lonely misery I had fought. I forgotten the friends that lifted me, the moments that tore me down only to bring me higher.   I had forgotten the delicacy of a flower. The aromas of nature the beauty within myself and the beauty so naturally displayed around me. So m

A Wanderers Inn

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   A Wanderers Inn   I have been traveling for thirty days. My horses are weak and I thirst dearly for water. My belly aches as hunger constricts my gut. I am fearful of death in such an unsuitable way. I have always seen myself dying in daring act of life.  Be it in war or the saving of a child. Or maybe, even in the defeat of a dragon as I get one last blow with my blade before it strikes me down and it falls to its death beside me. Feeling its last breath of heat roll over my body as our eyes see only our fading souls.  I have always thought my death would be glorious. Yet here I am, traveling alone with no more rations, nor water. My horses no longer walk with fervor but lackadaisical steps. And so I pray to find shelter before the cold takes us. Before the empty plains of barren trees and darkness finds us.  I wish not to be detritus before my days. Decaying slowly to the maggots as my body lays helpless upon the earth. Becoming a gruesome vision of what lies inside. B

The Moles Never Learn

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The Moles Never Learn  I found myself walking in the snow, my head aching with a sharp pain. I feel the back of my head, there is something crusted upon the rear of my skull. I dig my nail carefully into it. I can feel the crust collect beneath my nail like dirt.  As my feet trudge through the sixteen inches of snow I look to my nail and there in my nail is blood. Dried cells of my body. Upon seeing this I become confused with worry. I place my hand once again upon my bloodied skull and began to examine it.  I slide my index finger like the bristle of a broom, back and forth trying to see what wound had allowed such blood upon me. But after several seconds of feeling about, I find nothing. No scratches, no lacerations, nothing.  My worried confusion musters down to mere confusion. I rub my eyes as I am strangely held with a slight daze. As if I have been interrupted from a deep sleep. And the evening air is not helping my situation.  I am comfortably wrapped for a day tr

The Harbor Beast

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   The Harbor Beast    There we stood at the harbor, our weapons drawn. Our hundreds of ships shredded like veal to the tortures of a fork. Screams of men echoed through the thickly laid fog. Every man's heart beat could be heard that day.  Our bayonets branded upon our guns. Others stood with swords drawn, but what good were they? What good were any of us?  The desolation that floated among the harbor waters, was as if the wrath of god had rained down, and it was teaming with horrors. You could hear the screams of men vanish to silence as if death had rose from the water. And the most haunting thing of that day still rests in my head like a scar upon the flesh. One of my men, my own son, aboard the ship I was designated for had swam to the very dock we stood upon. But as I and other men tried to save him, something took him. Something powerful, something beyond our eyes.  In one foul second we lost our grip and he was taken under with ease. His face pale with fright,