“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven… For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”— Matthew 6:19-21 (NIV)As I reflect on the words of my own heart poured into verse,…
I woke to a shadow in my room, my own face staring back, twisted with a grin that wasn’t mine. It held my gun, accusing me: “You thought you could embody the essence of wrath’s?” Its words cut deep, naming “friends” I’d killed—lives I’d ended or betrayed in moments I can’t unmake. Jean-Paul Sartre’s words…
Some moments in life feel like they’ve been woven into the fabric of the universe, perfectly timed and undeniably sacred. I stumbled into one such moment not long ago, when the winding grapevine of life—those serendipitous threads of chance—led me to her. Her name is Halle, and from the instant I met her, I knew…
In my youth, a seed was planted, cold and unrelenting, deep within my heart. It grew as I did, twisting me into a figure I liken to Michael Myers—a silent, unyielding archetype of destruction. I didn’t fight it; I let it consume me. That seed bloomed into a lascivious hunger, a monstrous drive that’s left…
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…
Dissected Tread 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 Treads : Inspired By :
This poem is for people haunted by eyes that once sparkled with wonder, now overflowing with ruin.
She chose and obsessed—to go to the soul cage. I wrote this once I saw: love without real caution is just code waiting to flood. Faith sank deeper when pretence ended and her obsession met my disarray. No sermon here just the confession of waves that overwhelmed what she pursued.
Conclusion
Love that surges without invitation is violence disguised as depth—my rage proved it merciless. She came as mermaid, seeking hidden seas; she left hollow, drowned by what I could not contain. In the silence after the flood, I hold only echoes and the weight of what I almost kept. If this stirs you, it is freedom calling—love true never refuses the mercy of goodbye
“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven… For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”— Matthew 6:19-21 (NIV)As I reflect on the words of my own heart poured into verse,…
I woke to a shadow in my room, my own face staring back, twisted with a grin that wasn’t mine. It held my gun, accusing me: “You thought you could embody the essence of wrath’s?” Its words cut deep, naming “friends” I’d killed—lives I’d ended or betrayed in moments I can’t unmake. Jean-Paul Sartre’s words…
Some moments in life feel like they’ve been woven into the fabric of the universe, perfectly timed and undeniably sacred. I stumbled into one such moment not long ago, when the winding grapevine of life—those serendipitous threads of chance—led me to her. Her name is Halle, and from the instant I met her, I knew…
In my youth, a seed was planted, cold and unrelenting, deep within my heart. It grew as I did, twisting me into a figure I liken to Michael Myers—a silent, unyielding archetype of destruction. I didn’t fight it; I let it consume me. That seed bloomed into a lascivious hunger, a monstrous drive that’s left…
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…
Dissected Tread 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 Treads : Inspired By :
The poem “Eminently…” by Joseph Le Artist captures the double-edged nature of ecstasy: an overwhelming force that initially electrifies the soul and psychology but ultimately acts as a curse, pinning the speaker down like a fallen angel chained to earth. This intoxicating high feeds vices, nightmares, and a once-heartless existence, revealing itself as bondage rather than freedom. The true turning point arrives through deliberate purging—a painful yet liberating process of confronting and expelling demonic inner forces.
What emerges is genuine healing: an intimate reconnection with soberness that hushes chaos, restores emotional depth, and transforms a hardened heart into one capable of renewal. The core takeaway is clear—unchecked ecstasy leads to spiritual and psychological imprisonment, while intentional release and grounded clarity pave the way to authentic wholeness.In practical terms, the poem offers a roadmap for anyone wrestling with destructive highs, whether emotional, addictive, or obsessive.
First, recognize when euphoria becomes a chain by tracking its signs (racing thoughts, detachment, escalating vices) and choosing to purge rather than indulge—through detox, shadow work, physical release, or creative expression like poetry itself. Then, cultivate steady intimacy with soberness via daily grounding practices (mindfulness, nature, meaningful connections) and consistent inner battles against lingering patterns. If the struggle feels overwhelming, seek support from therapy, communities, or spiritual guidance. The poem’s hopeful arc reminds us: healing isn’t about avoiding highs entirely but refusing to let them rule. By embracing the purge as sacred work, what once felt like a curse becomes the catalyst for a more resilient, authentic life.
“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven… For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”— Matthew 6:19-21 (NIV)As I reflect on the words of my own heart poured into verse,…
I woke to a shadow in my room, my own face staring back, twisted with a grin that wasn’t mine. It held my gun, accusing me: “You thought you could embody the essence of wrath’s?” Its words cut deep, naming “friends” I’d killed—lives I’d ended or betrayed in moments I can’t unmake. Jean-Paul Sartre’s words…
Some moments in life feel like they’ve been woven into the fabric of the universe, perfectly timed and undeniably sacred. I stumbled into one such moment not long ago, when the winding grapevine of life—those serendipitous threads of chance—led me to her. Her name is Halle, and from the instant I met her, I knew…
In my youth, a seed was planted, cold and unrelenting, deep within my heart. It grew as I did, twisting me into a figure I liken to Michael Myers—a silent, unyielding archetype of destruction. I didn’t fight it; I let it consume me. That seed bloomed into a lascivious hunger, a monstrous drive that’s left…
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…
Dissected Tread 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 Treads : Inspired By :
“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven… For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”— Matthew 6:19-21 (NIV)As I reflect on the words of my own heart poured into verse,…
I woke to a shadow in my room, my own face staring back, twisted with a grin that wasn’t mine. It held my gun, accusing me: “You thought you could embody the essence of wrath’s?” Its words cut deep, naming “friends” I’d killed—lives I’d ended or betrayed in moments I can’t unmake. Jean-Paul Sartre’s words…
Some moments in life feel like they’ve been woven into the fabric of the universe, perfectly timed and undeniably sacred. I stumbled into one such moment not long ago, when the winding grapevine of life—those serendipitous threads of chance—led me to her. Her name is Halle, and from the instant I met her, I knew…
In my youth, a seed was planted, cold and unrelenting, deep within my heart. It grew as I did, twisting me into a figure I liken to Michael Myers—a silent, unyielding archetype of destruction. I didn’t fight it; I let it consume me. That seed bloomed into a lascivious hunger, a monstrous drive that’s left…
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…
Dissected Tread 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 Treads : Inspired By :
The strangest thing about human desire is its capacity to clothe illusion in the radiance of truth. We behold the caramel glow of skin, the flowing mane of hair, the whispered “Papi” that promises to uproot mountains, and we name it beauty—perhaps even salvation. Yet beneath the sunlit surface lies an upside-down dimension, a realm where warmth is merely the finest mirage cast by hidden vengeance.
The soul, drawn inexorably toward the light, mistakes the heated ray for nourishment, watering a garden long deprived, only to discover that the beams scorch rather than revive. In this dance of attraction and deception, we reveal our deepest fragility: the willingness to trade the integrity of our own essence for the fleeting illusion of connection. Thus, the ultimate strangeness lies not in her manipulative intent, but in our quiet refusal to surrender. To withhold the soul is not mere defense; it is the silent affirmation of an inner equilibrium that no external force—no matter how seductive—can truly displace. In guarding what cannot be twisted, we acknowledge a deeper truth: genuine radiance needs no possession, and true gardens bloom not from borrowed suns, but from the steady light we cultivate within. The strangest, and perhaps most liberating, thing is this unyielding core that observes the illusion, feels its pull, and yet remains unmoved—forever one in a million, not because it is rare, but because it chooses to remain whole.
“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven… For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”— Matthew 6:19-21 (NIV)As I reflect on the words of my own heart poured into verse,…
I woke to a shadow in my room, my own face staring back, twisted with a grin that wasn’t mine. It held my gun, accusing me: “You thought you could embody the essence of wrath’s?” Its words cut deep, naming “friends” I’d killed—lives I’d ended or betrayed in moments I can’t unmake. Jean-Paul Sartre’s words…
Some moments in life feel like they’ve been woven into the fabric of the universe, perfectly timed and undeniably sacred. I stumbled into one such moment not long ago, when the winding grapevine of life—those serendipitous threads of chance—led me to her. Her name is Halle, and from the instant I met her, I knew…
In my youth, a seed was planted, cold and unrelenting, deep within my heart. It grew as I did, twisting me into a figure I liken to Michael Myers—a silent, unyielding archetype of destruction. I didn’t fight it; I let it consume me. That seed bloomed into a lascivious hunger, a monstrous drive that’s left…
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…
Dissected Tread 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 Treads : Inspired By :
LifeandTimelessart 