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OBSIDIAN

20th Century Poetry by M. Cano


"It's not such a big deal!" are you for real?


Put your next submissive other in the shoes I never desired to wear. To hell with this dream. It ain't of use at my door anymore. I'll find a way out and forget the desire to hit the beast that you've become. You are the primal infant in the dark recesses of someone's mind, and you haven't even the salvation of humor to keep you going on. Don't vent your hatred at my smile.


The coldness falls upon your soul. Agony so strong within your soul. The color of the blackest coal, This pain which seeps within your soul. The cage which resembles Lucifer's grasp. This torturous prison like Lucifer's grasp. So strong its hold like the dead's rigor mortis clasp. this feeling within like Lucifer's grasp. The screaming of agony from inside. This blood-boiling rage filling you inside. Never to cease until the soul has died. Died from this wretched pain deep inside.


Before going to night's end, catch the catch of men!


I would find the first emoted feeling upon this Earth if I were able to travel through time.


The ghosts of the past come back to haunt you. no matter how many times you try to drive them off. things and people change, but the pain still remains. when it seems things are good you should brace yourself. it's a sign it will soon rain, burying you again with pain.

walking through this gloomy night with the full moon chasing you. trying to forget the loneliness these times always put you through.

breaking down the walls within. forgetting about the storm, only for it to rain down again.

freeing your mind for a little while. dwelling in a world of sad denial. holding onto fleeing dreams, while your lost soul screams.


People are containers of massively orbiting bad karma in which their souls are eternally unbalanced in some distant personal Hell.


no dreams remain.

death is the reward to an enlightened soul. a beautiful and noble savage, Earth's hero. a slow, poisonous death is this world's gift to those that let it control them throughout their unending days of slavish existence.


the last date in our lives is at our graves courted by a flirt named death.

your weary, dying soul it craves stealing it away in the light of your final rest. taking it on a fateful quest. who is to say what lies ahead? does that choice exist to us once we're dead?

the last date in our lives is at our graves courted by a flirt named death. distorted cry with dirt-tamed breath


the city has the roaming eyes of a gossiper.


this trail goes on for miles and miles the tears pouring down turn the dirt to mud. exhausted bodies begin to die in piles. my feet are cut up and covered in blood. when will this journey end it's taken my family and best friend. those murderers are too ignorant to see no matter what they take, I will remain free.


Painted desert, painted red sky. Giants- totem poles that stand so high. A rhythmic beat of drums pounds in my ears. Tribal dances fill the colonies with many fears. Ancient ceremonies worshipping life and death leave these newcomers stunned without breath. The whispering winds know of many things. They see the regret that a conscience brings.


my eyes looked at the sky as it was setting pastel pink, purple, and blue. i slowly drift off to places filled with splendor. they sing within my heart a song so tender. a sound to my ears as if the world was meditating. Tranquility flowing around. A feeling of harmony that the world finally found. It made the sky cry and sing. It awoke the exhausted ground. After battles on which her heart sadly frowned. Things that once were imagined surround. We let go of the past for we are free at last.


We are the survivors. The ones left to stand. After a long and dreary battle that began with their thoughtless command. Slowly we walk away, with our arms embraced. We close out the World's dismay. This bloody showdown, how vicious it was faced. Shouldn't we feel free- for we aren't among the dead? No. How could we be? All we have left are tears of misery to shed. Even though we are sad we must continue on. With our hearts torn looking at this view so mad; seeing how all is gone- remember: You are a Survivor, and death has not yet won.


they tell us who we should trust as they fill us all with their lies. leaving us lost as our freedom dies. this world is full of hypocrites it's power that they lust. believe only in yourself & be careful who you trust. they think our minds can't see our feelings are what they confine. from their lies we are never free. do you dare cross the line? we are restricted from our dreams. until hope has vanished like the streams.


(((((((((((((())))))))))))))

Travel the silver beams of your consciousness. Through the mists hear voices from the hills speak. Flames of fire dancing on their infernal toes. Absorbing all things near with their energy; Engulfed. The ceremony takes place. the end of this dark age is near. Time for a new beginning. We send it freely, spiraling out of the dark abyss from which it came. Arise from the fire that has awakened you, the burning flames that have released you and give this dream that we wish for it's chance. Lock away the places of pain, sorrow, and an endless, thoughtless, dead tomorrow. We meet once again in this continuous circle. I love you to death and beyond.


things to be seen in the midst of a dream:

sunset- night- death of the sun

spirits rise above- the moon now is born.

great stars above. a mighty river of fire.

a man and a woman in the stars and in heaven

they are free.




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