"The Land of Sanity"
by:sebastciaun t.
censtcuriaus
The distance of mine self in my own affliction.
An affliction of sickening for those pretending to be listening.
Guidance and abiding is the source of cause.
Ripple reflection, sheep's stare as they follow painting a picture of another in the mirror.
Being and stating intentions of lesser mentioning.
Nothing of ones own a reclusive rendition.
Where to find resonant misting?
The fog of judgment and plaguing mind of mine persistence.
The deafening awe's in the serenaded Just of Cause.
Affection for caressing my insurrection.
Specules of conformed vesticular vessel.
Embodying and Encapsulation of Spirit.
The rearing eery fearing smearing pause of undeniable laws.
Caring to fare my own fair and applause.
Firing my lust,
Searing my heart,
Hearing my parting vow to resonate with illusory yawns.
The fake apparition hoisted upon my spherical essence is nothing of spherical resonance.
Folding the space of being onto facades in self.
Warping the shape and place in time and face.
Saving my own race,
Pleading the resisted case,
Clothed with fine linen and lace beat upon my door,
Oh! How to give in to such a perverse and opportune whore!
Seeping through my pores as I kill mine self daily.
Baiting myself with raining pain.
The reign of incadescent bane ambiguity.
The pane in windows shut,
The bland significance in asserted decadence.
Outstanding the varicose contusion flowing in mine incoherent brain,
Insanity in all vanity,
Sanity for all things built upon the Land of Sanity.
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"
The Never Ending Sorrow"
..
Difference of my shaded reflections is a mask veiled to hoist the illustrious illusion. Opium for the masses, Opium for the shattered reflection of this den of demons that plague my surrounded stature. The posture of sitting becoming the upright eccentric boisterous shout of ambiguity and the lines of sacred bisection. The esoteric luminous mural that paints doors and windows never ceasing to facade a cascade as waterfalls brash and crash their way changing flow as the reflect. Giving respite to the rock as the river changes direction, the insurrection of the resistance gives route to another way upon the moment of it’s luscious flow. The light to the door, the dark that is banished by the candle flickered light that withers and wilts as the night fades to light as the dusk shades itself to a brighter dawn.
The musty whisk of wind flows graciously upon my death filled release of peace that is never to be nor can never be for the sake of primal sake. The truth of resonance is omni presence. The glow of gracious delight brings forth a vine of happiness that once were grew with tiny seeds that the mist of love nurtured life. The wither and wilt of flowers amiss shows relevance in the prevalent matter of the death and life so the universe can breathe forth and expand the love for it’s nature that never ceases to wilt not but ever more elate. Belated and serrated the knife upon long living strive it may seem. A brighter tomorrow, A better future, A universal sorrow for the plight that is neither hind nor fore; it is rather plain sight. Searching through the caves of empty light and darkness that holds no veil that it be dark and void. All things are sparked and give life to the very seeds that universal laws tend to bend and break with the dream and will of another creations fight with their own wrong and rights. To know the vastness of void and the validity in falsified doctrine. The spiritual rebirth of any creed among the might seed that has it’s own water and falls its world apart as life flutters forth. As a butterfly emerges so does the life of never ending strife. Lessons and values; Immoral and moral all retain their solidity in that which can be defined and contained. Upon the limits of vast immortality the nature of mortals to seek. Fountain’s breeding youth, searching the splashes of purity that reign the vanity of mirror to reflect the soul that never lost a single day. To look in the eye to shed a tear and cleanse the mindless writ of many a warriors cry. Held high the visions and hearts of many their people. The splash of innocence and children awakened their sleep many a nights. To know and see, To dire the straits upon the rivers that still have their course changed by the cascading falls. The ship will sail, The veils will prove strong, The mind is the mightiest o shields. To know the truth and search the hills.
To wear the masks; To imitate such a poisoned posture!
What a gracious solidity to find all that can be defined. The nature of the fluid and restless mind is the dreams of tomorrow wait not for that day but accomplish them in every way in the moment that always passes us here today.
..
Love;
by: Sebastciaun T.
Censtcuriaus
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The innocent cries lie in the children's dusky wake,
Upon the fate of dusty face, Where is this forgotten fate?
Maybe I am One to Save,
Is it This Face!?
Always in waiting, a little at times, some in time see that sometimes is always too late.
The depletion of hate;
Arousal of Fear;
Does anyone Hear the Children's Tear?!
The Sear of Lying awake I feel their tears,
They beat and rasp upon mine window pane,
Curl and clasp thy pillow tight to hold it through thine sleepless night.
Where shall the rapping sound of constitutions shall reign?
Constable the cause,
Horror the effect;
Is the word or act to judge;
writ with soldiers blood?
Thine reason seem to fade;
upon this becomes a facade of hate.
Allow and Irate;
the public to bear the weight and pay the cost,
The tears of tyranny weighed;
Love and Light must it be up for debate,
Delayed it must for conversations come at dusk
As children lifeless;
struck at the tick,
The wick of the pens flick
hear the sound when midnight ticks.
Oh! The trumpet of constitution reign.
Thine Empty Veils;
Thine Hollow Confession,
Thine Hallowed Veils must I bask in and lay?
Break it upon this lifeless daze!
radiating the sound of solace,
absolving I hear,
Such a resonant ring.
Thy angels,
Thy lips have no song,
Deny thine they shall the very war they bring?!
No matter the likes;
The retrospect they shall,
Constitute shall thy fight,
No matter,
The children are sleepless at night,
Tuck yourself in tight!
Faceless the mask,,
Many the veils,
The facades of war,
No worse than a rasp of pen among the empty vowel,
Where does thine story end;
Horror find an end!
Seething through the sin within,
can I find solace deep within?
May thine angel sing to thine own divine,
Wait they shall for a resonated sign?!
Thy loveless plight may the world we have?
Thy loving right at sorrows mourn come at resonating scorn?
Take this step,
One forward front to back,
Look into the eyes of the children with thy lies.
Sebeastciaun T. Censtcuriaus
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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
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Thine Vampire’s God
Category: Life
Sleepless at night is the Vampires Sage!
Consumed by rage,
Endorsed by inner plague,
The vampires rage.
Consumed by the plague of that which thou desire most.
Thine own thirst?!
The moon settle and energies plight strengthens to loveless rage.
Thine as the own sun drops that consumes a plague such as the vampires page? To turn and burn in the sun would rather be thine own dust. A figment of thine imagination. A figment of my inner burn for thine things less tactless to teach thine own words or shorter blurbs.
How to succumb but overcome the wrap of mind around the vampires stage.
?
How to become so numb to a feeling that tosses and turns like the feeling in a newborn ready to die,
tumbling and crying, for thine fear is that of this, Thine own world!?
How can this be a vampires age determine a mortal year?
The
immortal grasping terms and times through centuries year. More I grow
each to his own year. When shall I rise above the vampire sage and
Immortal becomes a divine parabola between thine own god?
With Love;
Sebastciaun
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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
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"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
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