Thine Loveless Eye
Category: Life

"The Loveless Eye"
by: Sebastciaun


The dry canon, The luminous light, The illustrious plight.  The words that never come.  The hurls that never cease to some.  The world turns, the love curls.  The listeners dwindle.  The taciturn turns and churns words as butter to steam.  Never seemingly less that I must have sickness derived upon this bliss of confinement of thine own rhyme.  Confined to words, bound to poems, bound to rites.  Creeds and oaths spoken hollow, hallow, and shallow as the beholder.  Still yet, there is that curve of rest that comes where peace dwindles the shallow demons to mine own corner in that I cower tumbling over words and poetic vibe.  A curse I say you.  A bless say you.  Wherever the creek meets that crippled rock is that which metamorphosis cannot deny.  The ugly duckling with no past, no present, no future.  Thine only future is to why the gods curse the inner bane and vanity of existence such as that.  To thicken ones world with curses upon magnitude.  The loveless canto of restless prance.  Parading the room with nowhere to run and nowhere to go.  Hide?  How shall I?

There is no hide and there is no corner.  There is only a listening.  There is only a spoken vow.  There is only a token for thou.  My beholder.  My beholder, How cursed am I?

My beholder how rough is I?
My beholder how callus are thine hands?
My beholder how fallacy do I teach?
My beholder how gifts are nothing but curses intertwined with illusion?

The fusion that which I cannot fathom,
Only contemplate a mysterious and fallacy of the divine.
Only ascertain a world of error and erroneous and irreligious error.
Only contain, Can I?

The demon and devil within for certain time is that such shall come, the day where the pain stops and blood is given back unto thee ten fold upon my sins compound untold to thee.  My love for thee shall be given as it was given unto me. I love unto thee without words, without sanction without rank or premonition.  Care not for clairvoyance nor loveless blunder.  Only my brother and my sister, I care for thy.  In my eye thy are my world, for my world will never be anything without thy in my twinkling shadow of what's left, inside the love of my inner divine.


with love;

Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus 

Thine Vampire’s God
Category: Life

Thine Lovers Restless Taste

"The Lovers Taste in a Restless Place"
by Sebastciaun

The illustrious plight in turning in thine own mind,
The seductress with her own vision in sight.
The seduction is thine own fall to thine own hell.
The reduction to matter of mind to thine own mass.
The suction of thine own beauty to thine own appeal,
The lovers lie and the loveless eye how do I feel?

The words that succumb to incoherent verbosity,
The players folly for judging thine own curiosity,
The ambiguity in nothing but in something finding a massive atrocity.
The teachings without fit for thine sight,
 a teacher with less minding plight,
No where shall I circle the world and kiss thine moon for thy love in my never ending daze.
How could I paint this mural of pain for thy love to see that fiction is stranger than this?

Shall I paint a poem for thy beauty upon thy face?
Shall I pain a poem from thine own heart?
Shall I bear a cross for heirs to gold's blame?
Shall I bear a loss for thine own absolving sanctity?
Shall I ever know what thy heart beats without thy love in my lover's divine?

Shalt I not walk the ends of thine own world to blissfully be in thine own place?
Shalt I not stumble with words for thy beauty is surpassed by thy mind?
Shalt I not be at peace till that peace from thy love ever crosses my endless taste?
Shalt I not be at ease for thy is mine own dream, for thy is mine own life?
How to pass this curse that was a blessing for thine own times to be had?

Even in nothing, this nothing we carry I shall sit in this solace place.  This solitude of confinement.
Dreaming, Hoping, Loving, Living and Breathing!
For tomorrow is that day I wake and hope that you love thine own taste for my lovers restless place where I find taste.


Love;

Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus

"Thine Abyss of Abandonment" by: Sebastciaun

The sustenance of senility in sustainable arrays of thought processed mechanics. The irrational sequence of coincidence and coinciding fact of thought constructive mechanisms. The visually audited release of an plethora of infallible and fathoming concept. Thine, with true enlightenment and understanding by the divinity in a subtle surrender to serenity. The selection in tristate and thought trisection bears forth energy upon the mass consciousness plane. Thine energies pollution of diluted constabulary conviction is that which holds a sustainable field of insurrection. Where is thine resurrection begin?! Have all is lost in lesser containment? The beast awakens and thought provoked conviction for striving to thrive in a throbbing vessel such as this. To contain thine own synergy is thine death. To freedoms flask I drink till mine own fill and lend my cup for never wilt it deplete?! Holy grails and imaginary lines of fiction holding bounds of inconceivable boundary. The distance that we share through uncommon factoring is not the factor that which I beat as true nor see to it should be. Thine own face is my own mirror and my own light is dark with hint of destiny becoming mine own fate. The two bisect and form rational construed being, so as it is I am blessed be. Fortunate am I! Thus I have walked upon the high waters of hell and skew energy into the abyss of heaven. The place now I reside. Fading, Jading, Rating all things equal to none and separated by some. Shalt the barriers be broke and all brothers find love. All sisters find freedom. Shalt we find that we all stand together in this broken dream in a wakeful but sleepy, teary eyed place called earth. What shalt I Hope? Upon this there is only such that I can wish and that is such that we find an absolute place and time to confide in imaginary rhyme where we all find solace and peace in the confined words of incoherent signs. This is the abandonment of hope to lighten faith which it shall bear forth its fruition. The shadow in the day and the light in the dark a place where I find a spark to divinely write this as I see it in the Censtcuries of Sebastciaun. BY:Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus

The straight sting of the needle in twilights bliss,
The never ending kiss that leads to more,
The forever preceding hell intertwined with the devils twist.
"The River's Eye"
By; Sebastciaun

The Ventriloquist

The sustained senility I sustain;
the similar and difference to thee which in thy loving and careful words I find sweet shutter of silence thrown towards thine own ear.
The puppet has it's master as the blind conviction of a lovers does it's curse;
Such I find,
 a ventriloquism where mine own heart is the puppet and the master tangles and toys with my own chord.
I continue to dance, I continue to parade about in this constant charade to thine masters decree!
How shall I find an everlasting piece of heart;
In this peace that is an insurrection of my master of puppets and a collection of their tears.
As I am a creation bore forth out of fear and love to dance and prance about under the moon and above the soon.  The cause of my unknown sanity that bleeds forth my resurrected insanity.  Mine own paradox of humility is a reflection of a creation that when taken time to stop!

The roses are sweet and the wine is bitter.
Then again, I take a second glance at the batted eyes of the plague of nations that haunt the enslavement of children and innocent mind and I can only come to a conclusion that what love I may find what love will it do any of those in this day and time?

How to stop?! How to reason!?

The arrogance and pride of monopolized crime but the pain inside sail forth as a vessel upon a never ending sea of hopelessness and forgotten dreams.
 To feel the wind caress my lips and take my breath and lend an ear to the ones in most need of a smiling tear who is it that shall judge the means necessary by the degree of my higher plea?

Once again find solace in the formless nature as we are to be and the nurture of self for there is no one else to care or dream to even pay a ticket, a fare or sit with gossip upon their mind.  Sitting upon their liars chair of jealous and envious plight and the dark shall be light!

A precarious time to live and hear the resonant silence of love but not know the ways in which to reason with the social taboo that is plague upon this world.  Hope, Love, Faith,  whichever I see true in the end for the sake of a picture better painted where there is no death and there is respect for all things that is truly a day I will not see.

So upon a retrospect as I write this dialect with mine own self I have found maybe it is right, or maybe it is inner sight;
Just as it is may be the Ventriloquist who in silence....
Finds the inner peace in the sadistic future of mine own heart.
 whose pieces will forever reflect the endless sea as time passes the dust shall settle and remain a refracted dream that never was and never will be in this shameless world.

Love;

by:
Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus
 

“Mine Pain of Existence”

By: Sebastciaun

Thine own Soul,

 Is thine only piece I have found my peace.

That which kept and saves mine own face inside mine own hell of terrors reign.

For in mind,

Thine own infectious dousing rain!

The subtle infraction upon the lifeless brow upon thy eye!

The stirring force,

A mindless interaction I have seen.

The deaf ear I have heard!

Precarious, I find a mystery in mine daze of counting.

The arrogant steps I take,

the ignorance of breath I make,

the broken love I forever forsake!

When shall it be that mine own hell shall find its end?

Climbing the rungs of a ladder towards another hell,

Forsaking innocent Ones in my path,

 all is seeking of thine foolish pride.

The cadence of my fading radiance,

 Leaving a scent that hints of my own souls death.

The motionless persistence and those that remain in a looped state,

Oh!   Thine minding and pride filled hate!

Leading that which way is of in no way mind to know,

Never shall I express in an array of explicit form what words shall never suppress or adorn.

The lack of true and real affection,

 has left my mind and heart.

This forever soulless state of thine own hate.!

To pain another picture so wide you shall forever know!

It will always be I that is to curse and blame.

I, the beholder of mine own pious plot and player’s folly.

I am that one deceitful soul to blame in this endless Lovers game.

Impure, I wilt.

In vanity I sway and tilt all the more to stain my blackening heart!

All this takes my world another step up the ladder towards the leading rung of mine abyss.!

Inside, I find thine heaven!

I have found Hell!

I have found no other love to seek but the one I forever lost!

Many have laid their swaddled cloth beside mine door,

Many have left the way in which it was they had to come.

Never once did they seek.

Never once did they blink.

Never once did they think!

Never did they take the time to know it is.

I, who stop, I, who never understands, I, am why!

I stopped the possibility of thine lovers dance!

To them they were to never know,

Why it is in my childish fear,

I whisper in their deaf ears.

In mine Love why I shed a tear,

As I lay trembling in mine own fiery bed fear!

A shot of pain,

A sound of sorrow the echoes they can hear.

Their mind at awe but never begin the comprehension.

 The shattered particles I am to never make any excuse or amends.

An equation of logic that denies mine own reason.

Even as seasons come and even as they go,

My heart is torn further from my pain and from my pleasure.

Inside my love!!

How to explain the fury of mine heartless wrath?!

How to explain the weary and tiring eyes,

My death tempting fares are empty and parted dares?

How to explain my loss?

How to explain my love?

How to render a pain upon pleasure in this life that is nothing less,

More and more times,

 I find mine self guilty with living!

I have become mine own pain of existence?!!

Love;

Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus 

"The Devils Fair"

by: Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus

Centrifugal, the serenaded sublime!
Solidity in thy pleading plague for sanities engulfing plane.




The arousal of self indicted laceration of truth;
The veil upon radiance,
the unforgiving translucent mask!

Cordial the spite of thee upon the nature of times;
given upon the moments of thine lifeless tree!
The verbose pronounced upon the canto in thy times masted of three,
How shalt I give the innocence thy slaughter upon thy ignorance?
The stallion thy ride upon thy Death's Charade!

Taking flight upon thine divine and abolished thy astonished face;
Thy have not form nor solidity in my own sight!
Thy reap the vanity and ambiguity of thy endless fate,
Serenade and Bask,
Upon thy soulless and arrogant rays;
The sun's shine and moon's light will radiate upon thy lifeless grave!

The dew of sinister resonance;
A curse that is in my own mind,
Equal to nothing of in surreal subtle time.



Illusions and veils thy cast upon thy faltered flask,
the purity and subliminal process thy cower in thy jaded mask!

For in my own divine;
I have no part;
I have no heart,
I have no equal!
The signs that operate and conceal a seduction,
Cheap and flayed upon thee own End of Daze;
Light and Dark,
Care nothing that part of my perishing sight of Divine!

Heirs and Fakes;
Are all that surround thy raging face;
Thy eyes contain the fuel of fallacy.



The bane of thy ill fated will,
The end of thy words will be thy own demise.




I revel in my own rhyme;
Cower thy eyes,
Cower thy mind;
Cower thy lies upon thy hills thy cast upon surreal defeat!
Thy are nothing but an illusion and veil of levitated deceit!
In thy own time thy will heed the words to the reality of the wise;
Coming soon to find that in thy beginning;
Thy own alpha is that of my omega!
The difference and significance in the spherical sustenance is the banishment of all hope,
Gives loving light and never failing sight!

This is the never faltered alter,
that of perfection;
that resonance of the guild upon thine manifest!

The forever blind shall never heed the wisest of rhyme;
Come and feel the altered meal;
The feast of thine plenty!
The Devils Beast!
The perished heat and fire among radiant mesh;
A tangled web among thy tongue;
Cast a circle and fine thy fare;
Among a selected fare;
This is the nature of the Devils Fair!

By: Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus