Carry On, Fair Fighter 🌷

Ye who are drenched in sin. Rise and face me. I shall guide you to the paradise that welcomes everyone.

As Moth Is Drawn To A Flame

Attraction

like a moth to a flame

Irresistible

to the glitters of gold, to a

desire for sensuous beauties

From a harmless candle

to a dangerous fire

Folded eyes long for light

from faint familiarity

to rogue recognition

Stimulation

by an arousing emotion

Destruction

awaits the wild imagination

as thoughts lead to actions

Fools

choose deliberately

a wit without wisdom

Popularity draws the young

as Moth is drawn to the Flame

©Johnny J P Lee

13 December 2024

Gogyoshiren Poem (20)

Photos: Unsplash Images

echoes of life

make themselves known 

beneath the wave of madness.

i am reaching out to the bodies

and hoping they have not been 

crushed under all the weight.

~K.T.

Umm, Hello!

If you somehow wound up on this one, please consider heading on to the sideblog, which is actually being updated:

@thehangedwords

I don't know, maybe I'll start doing something here in the future?

I know you do not exist

But you think you do

Looking for darkness

In broad daylight

roles reversed, crumbling in dust enough to cave in the lungs of titans. don't force me to breathe anyway, it's pointless in the grand scheme of cigar marketing. all for standing outside and watching the rays of sun stretch their limbs and lie down for the evening but the true beauty comes when all the pawn shops facing east are religiously nocturnal.

a hopper of trains, we can be out of here, we can be slugs happily avoiding the minefield of saltshakers set up to watch us perish. a tale as old as grandfather's medals, tears stinging eyes, hometown roaches feasting on nuclear Thanksgiving; part the lips and caught the tongue trembling common knowledge. that the boxing gloves hooked on the wall have touched their fair share of tender cheeks and retiring will only cause the maroon to solidify.

nap away the wrongdoings of foreign-feeling nausea. spin the story like a top on the evening reporter's desk laden with load-bearing ash-pokes the size of his ideals surrendering to keyboard gestures of love and floundering reputation.

My father’s laughter  

Was so loud,  

I could never tell if it was joy or pain.  

What a terrible thing it is,  

To watch your father’s pride  

Fade away  

I’m sorry you had to carry a weight  

You never asked for.  

I miss you.  

The fog creeps in,

thick like breath

on a window,

the hills fold

into themselves,

and I am

somewhere else

while the red bridge

cuts through the mist

like a wound

that has yet to heal

I'm pretty sure it's like that when I send screens/talk about story/lore to my friends xd

How my Limbus posts probably sound to my non-Project Moon fan mutuals

Bleebus Blorbus the Flesh-Rending Giraffe is a metaphor for childhood neglect and toxic relationships, which is very fitting how its E.G.O. Skin-Eater went to Tom Sawyer. Skin-Eater Tom Sawyer synergizes really well with Ten-o-Clock Flash Mob Office Fixer Tom Identity for Bleed and Rupture damage and may also give her ties to The Hat Man in her upcoming Canto.

wandering illusions

they all have your face, except

you look happy. that’s how i know

this is not real.

~K.T.