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The Cycle
Part I -Creation or the end of which-
At the beginning, everything is cyclical,
the universe is being formed, yet was already there
But where the pieces to this puzzle really made out of nothing?
Or did they always exist, just in another shape or form?
If the creatures search for answers, they may find something,
Something to hold onto inside the mystery storm,
As they grope and wonder with their simple minds,
For a remnant of truth in a sea of unknown,
The search proves fruitless and not a thing they find,
IT seems it shall elude them until they have grown...
Part II -Evolving-
Nature becomes complex and stretches to the will of science,
Or God so it seems to be the major compliance,
Whatever the hand, it makes shapes upon command,
resisting is pointless, they must change with the land,
To be able to seek out the answers to their lives,
They evolve and grow, and their species thrives,
they have reached the next level a brutal case,
selection begins to weed out the weak from the race,
Violence, as horrible as it may seem at present,
is just a way for the living things to resent,
one another in their futile war games,
it is just human nature, nobody is to blame,
Part III -The seeing of the self-
Spines twist and bones become enlarged,
the brain develops a new formula for solving
they realize themselves and their quest has been charged,
this is the price they pay for the gift of evolving,
To understand the universe and unlock its past,
mastering the forces of the earth,
fighting to survive, surviving to last,
to last until the next great birth,
The birth of a new hatred, this one born of evil,
But what exactly is evil? A mere illusion,
One more spark to ignite the roaring upheaval,
Rage and chaos spreading fiery condemning confusion,
Part IV -Climax-
The sect has no answers to any past thought,
nothing but cannibalizing hatred, this err hath wrought,
Bashing against one another in a sea of blood,
It rises higher and higher and engulfs all in red flood,
Battle rising higher, as blind fervor kills without remorse,
Cities crash and society follows the hellish course,
No one is safe not even for a passing reprieve,
skull crushing pandemic, death flying with full force,
The bodies litter the street, a corpse laden hall,
The victors awaiting their eventual fall,
rusted souls billowing hate smoke in the air,
Rippling waves of end, the solution begins to tear,
Part V -Destruction, or the beginning of which-
The blood forms into a vicious hurricane,
Enveloping all within its terror grip,
All the spirits writhing in endless pain,
The hurricane brings the oceanic bloodbath to sip,
And the crimson flash takes all the creations with it,
Everything the worked and toiled so hard to obtain,
Nothing left of the glorious empires but a razed pit,
A callous, a hole, a billowing void, a terminal stain,
At the end, everything is cyclical,
The universe is being destroyed, yet it was never there.
- by Cottoncandyocbra3 |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 12/22/2008 |
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- Title: The Cycle
- Artist: Cottoncandyocbra3
- Description: A poem about the universe.
- Date: 12/22/2008
- Tags: cycle
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Comments (3 Comments)
- whitejade13 - 12/30/2008
- Hmmmm....... I agree that everything may be "cyclical". Overall, wonderful as always. 5/5
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- iiReina - 12/29/2008
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what she said O.O i have kinda mixed feelings about this poem
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- Bleuraven123 - 12/22/2008
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woah, dude... eek
Never fails to amaze me everytime.
EVERYTIME... smile - Report As Spam