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Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus - April 2008

Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus

The Abyss of Heaven

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The opinions expressed herein are my own personal opinions and do not represent my employer's view in anyway.

© Copyright 2008

The Pain of Existence

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 

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Categories: Poetry
Posted by Sebastciaun on Sunday, April 27, 2008 4:37 AM
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Thine End of Time

Thine End of Time "Thine End of Time"
by: Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus



I
s that in mine life has all known sorrow;
All mine life has been a pain stricken opium of tears;
All mind death has been a birth of mine own pleasure from tears and pain.

All mind is mine own insurrection;
All heart is mind broken and shattered reflection;
All life in mine sight has seen nothing but cadent falls of sour taste and hollow kisses.

All times that amount to a pitiful existence is a relief of love through the sorrow in the dawn of tomorrow.
In all the dusk and nature of dawns I have found the spiteful bliss in the showered cadence of risk and receiving the bliss upon unworthy lovers that lie to me upon bedded strife for lying to me times over in this illusion of mine actual living.
In other words, In other parables and syllables that degrees of lust have played me for mine own fool;
As I found that I have been that fool;
Swimming in the pool of hate and tyranny of a withering love inside mine heart,
I find my world is shattered with nothing but hollow figurines and wax coated dolls in mine deceitful words I take all the blame.
Ever so death to ever call it a lovers game,
For the sake of mine own passion,
For the sake of mine own compassion,
For the sake of absolution and solution in mine loving problem,
Is that there is not a sanctity or a love that has ever dissolved in mine own broken heart.
The worlds could shatter,
The moon could shield it's glow,
The sun could refuse to show,
In all things of this world will fade before the darkest day that mine love ever becomes a hollow word and a reflection of mine stricken life that has become pleasure in the vanity of pain.

Among the morrows mourn,
and the sorrow for mine own search,
I yield and heed to many words and serenaded phrase,
but in the end it is the same as the love before it had begun.
Hollow words in this hollow sore that is emptiness and void.
A pain that has become pleasure bore from all the dusks that set the right stage of dawn,
To spark mine mind and float mine sail,
 All the ways,
 the end of the worlds to where I shall be!
Till a day,
In this horror filled world,
 I find closure upon the pain and my words yield nothing in vain,
 I find a dew and moisture  build upon a kiss,
 And alas the end of my darkened curse written in its verse.

In My Minds Eye time Shall I find that ever ending and flawless form?
The flowing nurture of mine own divine.

The subtle lover,
The real beginning of a surreal mind.

A love till thine own end of time!

The blush I feel from the gods and goddess that be,
 throned king in their winding webs,
 from the inner string to the intricate web.

They shall hold no spark nor light to thine own love.
 for mine other,
shall be worthy and feel as I,
In this vision of mine passion,
A romantic mystic's compassion,
Defying all lies and deceit,
In the heat of the darkest night,
Mine love shall shield thy lover,
Till thine own end of time!



With Love;


by: Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus

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Categories: Poetry
Posted by Sebastciaun on Saturday, April 26, 2008 3:15 AM
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The Devil's Fair

"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

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Posted by Sebastciaun on Friday, April 18, 2008 3:41 PM
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Thine Own Daze

Thine End of Daze
Category: Life

"Thine End of Daze"
by: Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus

The ceasing nurture upon thine Intentions;
While thy boast!


Thine reaction which for action is thine serenading of translucent  actions!

Thy opinions that plague thy label of thine Insanity.
 This cursed insanities plea is of thine own decree;
Thee is inside of my own life;
 that in thine end;
A summary of perspective will be a selected phrase upon the stone hinged boring that of thee,
 Engraved in my Thine Own Statement;
Set it upon my six feet plotted sleep;
 Thy shall try and caption ate the Reign of summaries thy will place it in Vain, Oh! Shall I roll in caskets plane for the plated phrase?!.
Thy turn it shall;
Thy shepherd;
 Tend my vessel in thy mortuary of stones!
 Thy duty and thy law;
Do it wilt;
Protect thine phrase upon thine stone
There I shall forever be sitting in time six  times a feet a top mind own head!
 
 
The epitaph and thy quote relaying thy vision which plated upon Thine Last Message for mortals to Peer;
Thy I shall say come upon thy restless vision of me;
 intentions with thee own envious and selfish pretensions!
Never pay thy right to the sighs and cries of thy luscious lies,
For here lies Thine Own Resting Vessel!

Inside Thine Curse;
Thee own reflection upon my own resurrection;
Thine  of succession,
 Brew it to be forged and forth;
Thine such written!?
Shall which it be a blessing in this being of stated recognition!

Throwing the sight and pleas towards the points and presence of Minding sightless plight!

Thine sign hoisted upon my resonance;
Thee own points it be of omnipotence!
This which shall I be;
 Imploring the sedation of thine vessel!
Where is is this Stone Wall!
Thine restless Hinge;
 Where it is my restless door!
Dirt upon thy mound leading to the house where thine I be forever resting;
 This is that which thou hast set Thine Soul!

Free it be forever leaving thy to code thy at wilt;
 Thine left hind and be the keys;
Thine is divine and placing algorithm for thy own selection!
Where Shall I Be?
 Thy protraction,
Thine  of Interaction?!
 What forth? Shall wilt it drive,
 Inward thine Insanity!
Forth hence is that which Thine I Bore.
Lesser be the formless fluid;
 I have grown wings upon dimensions I forever soar!

Thine I set;
Thine I Dream;
 Thee Deeming thy freedom from thy luscious land of sorted dominion;
Thine it is times in My Subtle Refraction!

Thine which is will;
 It then be thine staleness!
Is then wilt be thine rotted celestial the endless nature of my vessel!

Thine It be given forth;
 Becoming thine own Desolation.
Thee to which it be;
 Subsequent, The synchronized direction;
The life resting upon the nestling mast;
 veiled upon Ewe’s and Eyes of Thy Reflection;
Thee unto me writs that were upon my Land of Euthanasia;

Caressing thy sight given upon thee hand of slight!
Thine I!
Cyanide thee remains upon the savory form;
Thine tasteless!
Similar I found upon many of thee Ewe’s which were and are!

Thine I  left limitless inner faction,
Thine I remain striving before rowing down thy river of deafening stain!

Infinities Essence resolving thee times of mine verses;
Thine this will never cease;
Thine divinity of  surreal time!

Cadence upon radiance;
This is that Celestial Rhyme.

Thine venture upon my ghost plated hells;
Natures casket closed upon thine case of Thy own God;
Exponentiating This Forever Eye;
 The Immaculate  Nature of over rated Internal Grace.

Thine mortal which am I,?
Freely flowed through shameless waste;
Thy Reaper has been thy which it comes!
Breeding and Breathing;
Bleeding before but now it is;
That Fore I Shall No More!

The vessel of thine human resistance bleeds nevermore;
 Wrestled and Nestled;
 In thine time
Thy Illusion which I shared!
 I lie now upon this hoard of castles;
Beneath and  Below thy dirt once again.

Severed from body;
Separated from heart and mind;
My Reaper’s Day!
Has it come?!
Take back thine curse!
 Boring it before;
 once it is as was to me!
Slay and Laid to rest;

Forever potent in my resonant peace that which is thine place!

Never again;
 Shall I mourn for no more!?
Will there be a sorrow’s morn;
The mourn of shallow form!
Will never retain it’s shame upon this mind and heart I left before;
Forever and Never;
More shall I sight my shame upon this cite!

Heartless world!!!
Thy Made of thy jealous game!
Restless and Faded;
Jaded and Flayed;
Parting I bid my way,
Sorted away never to feel this lighted array,
The sun has left my vessel,
 for it’s becoming thine end of daze!


with Love;


By: Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus

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Posted by Sebastciaun on Wednesday, April 09, 2008 2:22 AM
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Thine Own Disease

Thine Own Disease
Current mood: betrayed
Category: Friends

The Withered Love;
The Severed Dove;
Serenity in the Piece I Find in my Subtle Rhyme.
Canto upon this Time of Divine Surreal Time!

Thou has left Mine own Thine for Dead!
Caressed my heart to the Abyss;
The dimensions of hell;
Plaguing the vessel;
Taking my soul to the succeeding levels!

Divine is the Pit where I sit upon the Liars Chair;
Throne, befit for Only I who sit upon My Own Writ!
The rite of sealed blood and stained plight;
paralyzed minds avast surround the nature of my fame stricken tassel!
Swift as the Tale moves as the Dragon Slips unto Another Slit!
Ah! Forsaken for the Divine Sweat sweeping across Thy Brow,
Another stride from the Dragon is Inside of Thy;
The mind, The Eye, Never give in to thyself and Deny!
This right that of mine which is that;
Thine is Mine, I am Divine!
Pure evil!?
 and Dragon am I?!

Resonance of Truth!?
 my Bearer of Light?!

Truth is not which thou hast seek!
Thy seek est veils and masks painted upon their mural of Illusion!


Casting thy circle;
 The loops to thee back in times of Three!
 of thy own limited panted and muted mime!
Comes forth;  as my mirror hoists its cast back unto thee!

I am bore not of form,
Solid Not I,
Blind I See, Forth Willing I!
 Strive harder as the Last!!?
 Softest with the Touch Am I!
Fluidity Sweeps thy Womb;
Validity in Mine Epic!
 Thine Soliloquy of Mine Divine!
 Witch is That!?
 Sweeping Tails in an Endless Tale;
Thee, Thy Striving Force that thou Love Unto Me!
It is until;
 I lay rest and piece that giveth back forth unto Thee!
I End Thy Vow!

Forward and Stumble thou wilt,
Forever Nourished thou art;
Endless and Soulless is Eye!
Forsaken!
 Thou must be,
To endlessly think;
Thou hold thy candle flicker flask,
Have thee unto me thee power to deceive.

Thine divinities restless sight!
Is that which brew in your endless night,
Haunted are Thy?!
By the Beauty of the Lovers Wilt;
Sacred as Lily in Her Amaranth Blossom!

Cursed upon thy naught!
 Given in to thy Ignorance;
 I give unto thy words caught!

So roll upon thy bed sit in turmoil as I bleed my love in this severed endeavor;
Restless be Forever In Thee Form of thy Turmoil!
Sit upon thy Hell in Endless Toil!
For thy have spilled thy spirit for thine own divine!
Forsaken Me and My Righteous Lovers Please!
Thou Love was not even close to being Thine Own Disease!


with Love;


Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus

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Categories: Poetry
Posted by Sebastciaun on Saturday, April 05, 2008 7:06 AM
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The Censtcuriaus Crest

The Censtcuriaus Crest

"The Censtcuriaus Crest"
by: Sebasty


The Road to Thine Own Hell;
Paved with thine own intentions;
Glasses of reflecting shards of only thine reflection!

Cresting the mess which is the twitch shall I pitch;
Cast my circle defeat the section of vi section.
Sacred showers giving light to thine Sacred Flower!

The path of death colored with black stained heart;
The restless shadow that light my world,
Thine heart is forever laid apart!

Thy lack the divinity;
Thy lack the serenity;
Thy lack the sovereignty!

Thine is My Own Subliminal Soliloquy,
Upon thine own grasp upon thine own clasp;
Rasping the desk with thine claws that forever chill my soul to thaw;
Revel with the Raven;
Searching the Chronicles upon the Abominable Serenity!

Thine own surreality is thy own reality!
Which is thy is not of Thine but of Mine is Divine!
Spark and Carrying the Power of Thine Mark!
The speed of death, The speed of Strife; The Sword of the Boar!

Toil and leave spite upon your own spoil;
Thor thy candle wicker has no light to thine own flame!
That is in thine own fact driven fame!
Cower in your shower of folly as I ploy my next to fall in this stricken sour that glistens with sweetened foul odor’s kiss!

Insurrection of the selection counting the resurrection till daze I come;
Caress thy beast;
Give food to thy nest;
Fever for thy head is upon fire’s circles bless;
The hive is grown the give is gown forever pain forever tame no longer here stuck in this rabid game!

Living the light of the darkened spit that is my souls destined curse to be Living upon this cited verse!
There has been worse summons;
Spite and None the less coercion!
Upon the formless I have seen they preceded in one the same!
Came upon time again to sit here in thine divine sin!
The censtcuries of Thine!
The censtcuries of Time!
The censtcuries of The last crest has come and passed!


Written by: Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus

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Categories: Poetry
Posted by Sebastciaun on Saturday, April 05, 2008 3:09 AM
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