The First Tread from “Deceptive Art Of War : Israel – Palestine (Poem)”:is “Deceptive Art Unveiled: Ephesians 6:12 Explained” These current world events resemble a fine deceptive art on display.” Step into the gallery of today’s chaos—nations clashing, headlines screaming—and you’ll see a spectacle unfold. What we witness in the Israel-Palestine conflict, a struggle etched
Poem Dissected Threads Thread Thread 1 :Deceptive Art Unveiled : What Does Ephesians 6:12 Mean In Israel-Palestine Conflict ? Thread 2 : Deceptive Art Unveiled : Souls Divided over Israel – Palestine Thread 3 : Deceptive Art Unveiled : Those Painting the deceptive imagery From Behind the scene Thread 4 : Deceptive Art Unveiled :Ignorance On Parade Thread 5
The fourth Tread from “She Had To Go” (Poem):“The Triumph of the Few” Only a few men escaped her seductive barbarity.” The words hang heavy, a quiet monument to a victory so rare it borders on myth. Escape from her—lust draped in silk, her pulchritude a deadly snare—wasn’t a gift handed to the masses. It
The fourth Tread from “She Had To Go” (Poem):“The Taste of Memory” “Her blood touches my lips, reminiscing on the time when lust had its grip on me.” The slaughter was done, the blade of will had struck, and yet victory didn’t wipe the slate clean. Even in triumph, the residue lingers—a faint smear of
Description The Third Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“The Slaughter of Temptation” “I slaughtered lust in its flesh before it could seduce me.” The words cut as sharply as the act they describe—a visceral, deliberate strike against a force that once held me captive. There came a moment of reckoning, a crossroads where the
Description The Second Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“The Stain of Desire” All the bloodstains on me came from lustful desires in human form.” These words linger like an echo from a battlefield I never chose but couldn’t avoid. The marks I carry aren’t from battles with others—no swords or fists left these scars.
Description The First Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“Philosophy of Trials” Life is not a gentle stream—it’s a forge, a crucible where the raw, unshaped essence of who we are is thrust into the flames. The trials and tribulations I’ve faced refined my soul like iron, stripping away the brittle edges and forging something
Description I’ve just broken free from the slave ship—that relentless 9-to-5 grind—and it hits me: what is freedom if not the rejection of a life that’s been handed to me? This system, this machine of control, can’t kill my vibe because I’ve seen through its illusion. It’s not just a job I’ve escaped; it’s the
Description My neck feels like an art gallery, each chain hanging heavy around it, a showcase of my own making. Every single one of these chains tells a story—how my heart’s turning hollow and vain, emptying out with every link I add. I know I should be building something deeper, stacking up spiritual gains to
Description This poem is a heartfelt ode to a woman admired for her intellectual and spiritual depth, blending biblical devotion with a complex interplay of personal qualities. Comprising seven lines, it follows an unstructured yet rhythmic flow, with no strict rhyme scheme but a clear cadence that mirrors the speaker’s reverence. The language is rich
As I sit here, pen in hand, my thoughts drift to the electric pulse of the club, a place where the world blurs into a haze of lights and rhythm. It’s a space where I find myself searching, chasing something fleeting—a spark, a connection, a moment of lust that feels like it could ignite my very soul. I confess, my heart is restless, caught in a dance between longing and surrender. My mind lingers on the club, where shadows and desires intertwine. I’m drawn to the allure of someone who captivates me, someone whose presence sets my spirit ablaze.
I look to her, to that fleeting dream of passion, hoping to hold onto something real before time erodes me. I fear that without her—without that fire—my soul might crumble, turning to dust in the quiet of unfulfilled yearning. In her hands, I imagine a world where desire breathes life into me. She is the one I dream of, the one who could mould my fleeting hopes into something eternal. Yet, there’s a weight to this longing, a fear that my spirit might harden, turning to crust under the pressure of wanting what may never be mine. This is my confession, my truth laid bare. The club is more than a place—it’s a mirror of my heart’s quiet ache, a reminder of the fire I seek and the fragility of my own spirit. I write this to you because you, more than anyone, might understand this restless search for something that feels like forever.
The First Tread from “Deceptive Art Of War : Israel – Palestine (Poem)”:is “Deceptive Art Unveiled: Ephesians 6:12 Explained” These current world events resemble a fine deceptive art on display.” Step into the gallery of today’s chaos—nations clashing, headlines screaming—and you’ll see a spectacle unfold. What we witness in the Israel-Palestine conflict, a struggle etched
Poem Dissected Threads Thread Thread 1 :Deceptive Art Unveiled : What Does Ephesians 6:12 Mean In Israel-Palestine Conflict ? Thread 2 : Deceptive Art Unveiled : Souls Divided over Israel – Palestine Thread 3 : Deceptive Art Unveiled : Those Painting the deceptive imagery From Behind the scene Thread 4 : Deceptive Art Unveiled :Ignorance On Parade Thread 5
The fourth Tread from “She Had To Go” (Poem):“The Triumph of the Few” Only a few men escaped her seductive barbarity.” The words hang heavy, a quiet monument to a victory so rare it borders on myth. Escape from her—lust draped in silk, her pulchritude a deadly snare—wasn’t a gift handed to the masses. It
The fourth Tread from “She Had To Go” (Poem):“The Taste of Memory” “Her blood touches my lips, reminiscing on the time when lust had its grip on me.” The slaughter was done, the blade of will had struck, and yet victory didn’t wipe the slate clean. Even in triumph, the residue lingers—a faint smear of
Description The Third Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“The Slaughter of Temptation” “I slaughtered lust in its flesh before it could seduce me.” The words cut as sharply as the act they describe—a visceral, deliberate strike against a force that once held me captive. There came a moment of reckoning, a crossroads where the
Description The Second Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“The Stain of Desire” All the bloodstains on me came from lustful desires in human form.” These words linger like an echo from a battlefield I never chose but couldn’t avoid. The marks I carry aren’t from battles with others—no swords or fists left these scars.
Description The First Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“Philosophy of Trials” Life is not a gentle stream—it’s a forge, a crucible where the raw, unshaped essence of who we are is thrust into the flames. The trials and tribulations I’ve faced refined my soul like iron, stripping away the brittle edges and forging something
Description I’ve just broken free from the slave ship—that relentless 9-to-5 grind—and it hits me: what is freedom if not the rejection of a life that’s been handed to me? This system, this machine of control, can’t kill my vibe because I’ve seen through its illusion. It’s not just a job I’ve escaped; it’s the
Description My neck feels like an art gallery, each chain hanging heavy around it, a showcase of my own making. Every single one of these chains tells a story—how my heart’s turning hollow and vain, emptying out with every link I add. I know I should be building something deeper, stacking up spiritual gains to
Description This poem is a heartfelt ode to a woman admired for her intellectual and spiritual depth, blending biblical devotion with a complex interplay of personal qualities. Comprising seven lines, it follows an unstructured yet rhythmic flow, with no strict rhyme scheme but a clear cadence that mirrors the speaker’s reverence. The language is rich
The First Tread from “Deceptive Art Of War : Israel – Palestine (Poem)”:is “Deceptive Art Unveiled: Ephesians 6:12 Explained” These current world events resemble a fine deceptive art on display.” Step into the gallery of today’s chaos—nations clashing, headlines screaming—and you’ll see a spectacle unfold. What we witness in the Israel-Palestine conflict, a struggle etched
Poem Dissected Threads Thread Thread 1 :Deceptive Art Unveiled : What Does Ephesians 6:12 Mean In Israel-Palestine Conflict ? Thread 2 : Deceptive Art Unveiled : Souls Divided over Israel – Palestine Thread 3 : Deceptive Art Unveiled : Those Painting the deceptive imagery From Behind the scene Thread 4 : Deceptive Art Unveiled :Ignorance On Parade Thread 5
The fourth Tread from “She Had To Go” (Poem):“The Triumph of the Few” Only a few men escaped her seductive barbarity.” The words hang heavy, a quiet monument to a victory so rare it borders on myth. Escape from her—lust draped in silk, her pulchritude a deadly snare—wasn’t a gift handed to the masses. It
The fourth Tread from “She Had To Go” (Poem):“The Taste of Memory” “Her blood touches my lips, reminiscing on the time when lust had its grip on me.” The slaughter was done, the blade of will had struck, and yet victory didn’t wipe the slate clean. Even in triumph, the residue lingers—a faint smear of
Description The Third Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“The Slaughter of Temptation” “I slaughtered lust in its flesh before it could seduce me.” The words cut as sharply as the act they describe—a visceral, deliberate strike against a force that once held me captive. There came a moment of reckoning, a crossroads where the
Description The Second Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“The Stain of Desire” All the bloodstains on me came from lustful desires in human form.” These words linger like an echo from a battlefield I never chose but couldn’t avoid. The marks I carry aren’t from battles with others—no swords or fists left these scars.
Description The First Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“Philosophy of Trials” Life is not a gentle stream—it’s a forge, a crucible where the raw, unshaped essence of who we are is thrust into the flames. The trials and tribulations I’ve faced refined my soul like iron, stripping away the brittle edges and forging something
Description I’ve just broken free from the slave ship—that relentless 9-to-5 grind—and it hits me: what is freedom if not the rejection of a life that’s been handed to me? This system, this machine of control, can’t kill my vibe because I’ve seen through its illusion. It’s not just a job I’ve escaped; it’s the
Description My neck feels like an art gallery, each chain hanging heavy around it, a showcase of my own making. Every single one of these chains tells a story—how my heart’s turning hollow and vain, emptying out with every link I add. I know I should be building something deeper, stacking up spiritual gains to
Description This poem is a heartfelt ode to a woman admired for her intellectual and spiritual depth, blending biblical devotion with a complex interplay of personal qualities. Comprising seven lines, it follows an unstructured yet rhythmic flow, with no strict rhyme scheme but a clear cadence that mirrors the speaker’s reverence. The language is rich
I was bored one day and i was amazed by @jid feature on a track called fried rice by @bas and I thought let me write something over @jid flow just for fun. #LATA
The First Tread from “Deceptive Art Of War : Israel – Palestine (Poem)”:is “Deceptive Art Unveiled: Ephesians 6:12 Explained” These current world events resemble a fine deceptive art on display.” Step into the gallery of today’s chaos—nations clashing, headlines screaming—and you’ll see a spectacle unfold. What we witness in the Israel-Palestine conflict, a struggle etched
Poem Dissected Threads Thread Thread 1 :Deceptive Art Unveiled : What Does Ephesians 6:12 Mean In Israel-Palestine Conflict ? Thread 2 : Deceptive Art Unveiled : Souls Divided over Israel – Palestine Thread 3 : Deceptive Art Unveiled : Those Painting the deceptive imagery From Behind the scene Thread 4 : Deceptive Art Unveiled :Ignorance On Parade Thread 5
The fourth Tread from “She Had To Go” (Poem):“The Triumph of the Few” Only a few men escaped her seductive barbarity.” The words hang heavy, a quiet monument to a victory so rare it borders on myth. Escape from her—lust draped in silk, her pulchritude a deadly snare—wasn’t a gift handed to the masses. It
The fourth Tread from “She Had To Go” (Poem):“The Taste of Memory” “Her blood touches my lips, reminiscing on the time when lust had its grip on me.” The slaughter was done, the blade of will had struck, and yet victory didn’t wipe the slate clean. Even in triumph, the residue lingers—a faint smear of
Description The Third Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“The Slaughter of Temptation” “I slaughtered lust in its flesh before it could seduce me.” The words cut as sharply as the act they describe—a visceral, deliberate strike against a force that once held me captive. There came a moment of reckoning, a crossroads where the
Description The Second Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“The Stain of Desire” All the bloodstains on me came from lustful desires in human form.” These words linger like an echo from a battlefield I never chose but couldn’t avoid. The marks I carry aren’t from battles with others—no swords or fists left these scars.
Description The First Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“Philosophy of Trials” Life is not a gentle stream—it’s a forge, a crucible where the raw, unshaped essence of who we are is thrust into the flames. The trials and tribulations I’ve faced refined my soul like iron, stripping away the brittle edges and forging something
Description I’ve just broken free from the slave ship—that relentless 9-to-5 grind—and it hits me: what is freedom if not the rejection of a life that’s been handed to me? This system, this machine of control, can’t kill my vibe because I’ve seen through its illusion. It’s not just a job I’ve escaped; it’s the
Description My neck feels like an art gallery, each chain hanging heavy around it, a showcase of my own making. Every single one of these chains tells a story—how my heart’s turning hollow and vain, emptying out with every link I add. I know I should be building something deeper, stacking up spiritual gains to
Description This poem is a heartfelt ode to a woman admired for her intellectual and spiritual depth, blending biblical devotion with a complex interplay of personal qualities. Comprising seven lines, it follows an unstructured yet rhythmic flow, with no strict rhyme scheme but a clear cadence that mirrors the speaker’s reverence. The language is rich
The First Tread from “Deceptive Art Of War : Israel – Palestine (Poem)”:is “Deceptive Art Unveiled: Ephesians 6:12 Explained” These current world events resemble a fine deceptive art on display.” Step into the gallery of today’s chaos—nations clashing, headlines screaming—and you’ll see a spectacle unfold. What we witness in the Israel-Palestine conflict, a struggle etched
Poem Dissected Threads Thread Thread 1 :Deceptive Art Unveiled : What Does Ephesians 6:12 Mean In Israel-Palestine Conflict ? Thread 2 : Deceptive Art Unveiled : Souls Divided over Israel – Palestine Thread 3 : Deceptive Art Unveiled : Those Painting the deceptive imagery From Behind the scene Thread 4 : Deceptive Art Unveiled :Ignorance On Parade Thread 5
The fourth Tread from “She Had To Go” (Poem):“The Triumph of the Few” Only a few men escaped her seductive barbarity.” The words hang heavy, a quiet monument to a victory so rare it borders on myth. Escape from her—lust draped in silk, her pulchritude a deadly snare—wasn’t a gift handed to the masses. It
The fourth Tread from “She Had To Go” (Poem):“The Taste of Memory” “Her blood touches my lips, reminiscing on the time when lust had its grip on me.” The slaughter was done, the blade of will had struck, and yet victory didn’t wipe the slate clean. Even in triumph, the residue lingers—a faint smear of
Description The Third Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“The Slaughter of Temptation” “I slaughtered lust in its flesh before it could seduce me.” The words cut as sharply as the act they describe—a visceral, deliberate strike against a force that once held me captive. There came a moment of reckoning, a crossroads where the
Description The Second Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“The Stain of Desire” All the bloodstains on me came from lustful desires in human form.” These words linger like an echo from a battlefield I never chose but couldn’t avoid. The marks I carry aren’t from battles with others—no swords or fists left these scars.
Description The First Tread from “Had to Let Go” (Poem):“Philosophy of Trials” Life is not a gentle stream—it’s a forge, a crucible where the raw, unshaped essence of who we are is thrust into the flames. The trials and tribulations I’ve faced refined my soul like iron, stripping away the brittle edges and forging something
Description I’ve just broken free from the slave ship—that relentless 9-to-5 grind—and it hits me: what is freedom if not the rejection of a life that’s been handed to me? This system, this machine of control, can’t kill my vibe because I’ve seen through its illusion. It’s not just a job I’ve escaped; it’s the
Description My neck feels like an art gallery, each chain hanging heavy around it, a showcase of my own making. Every single one of these chains tells a story—how my heart’s turning hollow and vain, emptying out with every link I add. I know I should be building something deeper, stacking up spiritual gains to
Description This poem is a heartfelt ode to a woman admired for her intellectual and spiritual depth, blending biblical devotion with a complex interplay of personal qualities. Comprising seven lines, it follows an unstructured yet rhythmic flow, with no strict rhyme scheme but a clear cadence that mirrors the speaker’s reverence. The language is rich
I blaze through the streets, my heart pounding, seeking those I once called my best friends—friends who betrayed me, their masks peeling away to reveal fragments of lust, loafing, guilt, and shame. Their deception trapped me in a “happy illusion,” but now, with wrath born from the abyss of my heart, I confront the wreckage of trust and the question of redemption. This raw, visceral poem is my story, urging me to explore philosophically what betrayal has done to my sense of self, how wrath has shaped my response, and whether I can find redemption without losing my soul. Drawing from existentialism, Stoicism, and ethical thought, I reflect on my journey through betrayal and rage, seeking answers within the ashes.
Betrayal and the Unmasking of My Illusions
When I saw their masks peel away, exposing their lustful ease, the sting of betrayal cut deep. These weren’t just friends—they were vices I embraced, parts of myself I refused to see. In Sartre’s terms, I was living in mauvaise foi (bad faith), hiding from the truth to cling to a comforting lie. Their betrayal forced me to confront this illusion, shattering the cage I built around myself. Now, I stand in the glare of existential angst, free yet burdened to redefine who I am without those false friends.
This unmasking wounds me but also offers a gift. As Nietzsche might urge, I’m peeling away false identities to approach my authentic self, untainted by deception. But the cost is heavy: years wasted, blinded by their intentions. I face a choice—cling to the ruins of my old self or forge a new path, knowing betrayal has revealed not just their falsehoods but my own complicity in them.
Wrath as My Response
From the “wrathful abyss” of my heart, rage erupts. I don’t just feel anger—I act on it, methodically taking out Steel (Loafing), Raheem (Guilt), and Q (Shame) with bullets to the heart, head, and chest. This isn’t blind fury but a deliberate purge, a claim to agency. Existentially, I’m asserting my freedom, refusing to remain a victim. Yet, Seneca’s Stoic warning echoes: wrath is a “temporary madness” that clouds reason. By “disconnecting my morals from my heart,” I risk becoming Nietzsche’s “pale criminal,” powerful in action but hollowed out by moral loss.
My wrath is a double-edged sword. It liberates me from the grip of vice, but it leaves me “lost in [a] charred room.” I’ve destroyed the external symbols of my flaws, but have I freed myself, or have I traded one cage for another? The bravery I feel is real, but it teeters on the edge of self-destruction, forcing me to question whether this path leads to empowerment or ruin.
Redemption or Self-Destruction?
Alone in my charred room, I contemplate purging wrath itself by “separating my body from my soul,” baptizing myself with “a bullet to the head, without holding back.” This chilling thought feels like both despair and a twisted hope for redemption. In Camus’ absurd, I’m caught between seeking meaning and facing its absence. My desire to purge wrath suggests a longing to transcend my corrupted state, but the method—self-annihilation—makes me pause. Stoicism, through Marcus Aurelius, urges me to master my passions, not destroy myself: “You have power over your mind—not outside events.” Yet, the idea of “baptizing my soul” hints at Kierkegaard’s leap of faith, a surrender to something beyond reason.
The ambiguity—whether I follow through or merely contemplate this act—leaves me wondering if redemption lies in self-awareness rather than a final bullet. Have I the courage to reintegrate my fragmented soul, or will I remain lost in this charred aftermath?
Ethical Reflections on My Fragmented Soul
Killing my personified vices—loafing, guilt, shame—feels like purging my flaws, but it’s also a form of scapegoating, projecting my struggles onto others. Ethically, I wrestle with a utilitarian question: does my liberation justify the violence, the disconnection of my morals? Plato’s tripartite soul comes to mind—reason, spirit, and appetite must harmonize for virtue. My wrathful actions let spirit rule, sidelining reason and balance. Redemption, then, might mean reintegrating these parts through introspection, not more destruction. But can I rebuild what I’ve burned?
Conclusion
This poem—“Unveiled Betrayal: My Wrathful Redemption”—is my confrontation with the human condition: the pain of betrayal, the fire of wrath, and the faint hope of redemption. Philosophically, it challenges me to consider how I respond to deception, both from others and within myself. Existentialism offers me freedom to redefine myself, but at the risk of moral erosion. Stoicism warns against wrath’s tyranny, urging inner mastery. The question lingers: can I escape the abyss of betrayal without losing myself, or is redemption always a baptism by fire? As I stand in my charred room, I’m left to decide whether to rebuild or let the ashes define me.
LifeandTimelessart 