Aaron's Brave Heart

St. Revered David of Hermopolis

Have you ever felt the desert?
A home of ashy camel hooves,
dangerous brigands, chief first,
kill amid God with countermoves.

This is where David thrives;
Blood on swords of wilderness.
Ferocious face that pities lives
less than chance deserving access.

Yet God's providence is loved,
he quite knowing murdered hearts,
no one erased but still unreproved,
fate unbiased, as choices are art.

No one crueler than David walked,
a head of over thirty restless,
he tortured till the victims locked
in countenance abandoned, zestless.

However, God alludes to mercy's ways.
The Father's clemency is long in time,
for patience replaces hasty plays,
when one is fed up with external crime.

Once this David reasoned in a mountain.
"Do I lead a life that's worth the mention?"
Suddenly, his heart became a fountain,
for a prophecy dawned on his intentions.

"I will be no one in the afterlife"
and suddenly he fear felt;
His mouth, now thirsty was to reconcile
with goodness, where evil dwelled.

"To a monastery I will head"
He thoughtfully considered changing;
"I'm still not lost and on my bed
I'll fall asleep with guiltless blaming"

So he travelled, metamorphosis along,
was staring to observe his vision;
and he reached the gate; intent was strong;
His Higher Self guiding his intuition.

The Abbot was sure in a factum;
the stranger was overdue initiation,
refusing his access to the sanctum,
but David would lose his patience.

The future saint, humility approaching,
emitted fiercely a call too worth the aching;
for the Abbot that was blockingly reproaching
him, would deprive him of awakening.

David threatened with a massacre,
if denied a welcoming reception;
so truly concerned, God's ambassador
let him enter the gate of the holy conception.

The brigand marched a serious path
of re-considering Life's fundamental laws;
slowly but steadily with values the wrath
he exchanged; humility testing his flaws.

With steady progress of his cloister,
he served as naked as a child of Christ...
All shadows tempering in trials this exploiter,
as persistence determines, if sufficed.

And suddenly, in a night's bridge on
the heavens to earth, St. Gabriel came
told him that his sins were forgiven;
But David still felt the past pain.

"How come am I forgiven so lightly?"
Ashamed, he repented, not to be gifted.
The authority before him scolded him nightly.
"For disbelieving God, your speech will be lifted!"

"You will lack the ability of voicing!"
Gabriel, dignified, uttered the Word.
"Only in liturgy you'll be rejoicing,
for you'll sing as no one has heard!"

So, mute, David lived in secrecy;
now able to heal sickness, to cure;
showing an example of decency
that, too late, was able to occur.

In silence ever centered, he rectified stood out,
and everyone awaited his canto again;
A villain remembered, attracted he huge crowds,
to follow him started hundreds of men.

One day he passed; away in the skies;
and he was there welcomed contently;
but his example - it never dies...
Improvement is never too late to be friendly.

Now he's observing from above the hosts,
concerned for these lost souls, scattered in vain,
in trivial games their scenarios too lost;
he never despairs, though, as God is in reign.

So never judge your enemies,
or envy your neighbour's possessions;
for God's put in action all remedies
to ensure the trip to home of aggression.

You can never be sure of One's hidden heart,
their past, future, present or pain...
So... make sure you find a meaning and start
to follow your mission;
you can do it!
Again.

Брой мнения : 3203 Age : 28 Registration date : 12.10.2009

Цитат :: Now he's observing from above the hosts,
concerned for these lost souls, scattered in vain,
in trivial games their scenarios too lost;
he never despairs, though, as God is in reign.

So never judge your enemies,
or envy your neighbour's possessions;
for God's put in action all remedies
to ensure the trip to home of aggression.

силно <3

благодаря ! Wink

"Васил Левски"

къщата на Васил Левски написа:: "Къщата е малка едноетажна сграда. Каменни стълби отвеждат в зимника, стая, иззидана почти в земята. Вляво от стълбището има килер без прозорец със сандък за брашно, нощви и други съдове. Вдясно е скривалището. Пред него, в стената, е вграден долап, на който вътрешната стена е дървена вратичка, измазана с вар. В долапа се нареждали нагънати черги, за да се закрива вратичката на самото скривалище. Горе къщата има две стаи.В едната стопаните са нощували през лятото, а другата е била гостна. Непосредствено до нея е долепена работилницата – ниска постройка, състояща се от стая, в която са плели гаитани и полуоткрита бояджийница"

Българийка е топличка,
особено в сърцето,
а сестринската метличка
измита гнезденцето.

Спретнато ни е в гърдите,
а във къщи тича челяд,
и, измръзнали, петите,
топли ги огнище на вечеря.

Гостната гостоприемна
посреща драгите другари,
дрънкат гаванки, та емна
ги дружинката, та пари.

Млад момък Васил се учи, та учи,
занаята, абаджийството подхваща,
и в душата си сполучи,
че на Бога е послушен и че схваща.

Ала тоз долап с труда окичен,
дето чергите прилежно са постлани,
погледът заглежда ги различен,
и в душата - разлютява се рана.

Планината пребродил и дирил,
сърце свободно бие на върха Балкански,
от дете на кавал в горите свирил,
цървули късали му българските танци,

и пял, та пял,
хора играл,
и тичал, па катерил,
па взор гордо е вперил,

че га от Балкана люто разлютил се Лъвский,
за туй, що България е в турско робство,
де в първи плач рожбите ни мъжки,
за еничери крадяли ни ги във удобство,

и грозни, башибозушките читаци,
рязаха, разплискайки във кръв главите,
честта моминска пронизваха и тез диваци
доволно след позора, довършваха бащите.

Де е било, турчин да минава
и да не разчуми българска земя?
Плодородната, де що се там посява,
дава златно жито и розова вода?

Че нашите жени грижливи,
де трудът ги разкрасява и младеят,
пеят ли, пеят, по нашите ниви,
плод и реколта отгледали, греят.

И тогава готованец агарянин,
иде за разврят и за гулия,
да думне данък, че османин,
взима изобилнен урожая връз просия.

Ала българинът нивга не е беден.
Пукнат, грошът ражда лев.
Ще пеем, докато сеем, турчино неден!
Васил Левски е! хайде, Обеси го с кеф!

Ще висне там на бесилка връз гарван!
Нали, на полето Софийско, наше, победно!
Уби ли героя ни? Аман!
Нищо не заеш! Но е редно!

Редно е да знаеш, че загуби!
Загуби и злото, де вътре е в нас!
Че идеалът Левски ни пробуди!
Равенство, храброст и страст!

Справедливост геройска - нищо не дири.
Що е награда за сърцето Лъвско?
Хайде, обеси го!
И гръмна подир ни...
наградата му - Да сме Българско!

Вятърът засвири - от Софията до Априла!
Как разбуни гарваните напосоки,
че как блесна Слънцето на Василя!
Низини и планини - отекнаха жестоки!

Кръв да се лее, Българио, майка на юнаци!
И не за мъст, а за нашата Своб`ода!
И ако оръжието секне,
хващайте брат си!
Опълченския труп - по турската орда!

Като няма куршуми, оръжието е плътта ни!
Че и мъртъв, българин въстаник атакува!
Взехме го! Взехме го, ума ви!
България - тя не робува.

Кърваво сме потушени,
ала Богът всичко вижда.
Не в мъст, ни в омраза устремени!
Силата от справедливостта приижда!

За братско равенство, българи сме, осъзнати!
Не искаме да станем същи османлии.
И ето защо Будителите ни са святи!
Ние ... ще ви помним, Народни ни светии!

За турчин и българин - същият закон.
Ала секиму - своето; и никога прегърбени!
Чест - не цар; ни позиция; отговорност и дом.
Всичките от майки сме откърмени.

Помнете го, Левски! Той е Човекът,
дето Българията я освободи!
Не с интриги и политика става леко!
А с туй, що извира от нашите гърди!

Достойно обикаляше балканският юнак,
да сее благодатна добродетел у човека,
храбър, украсил се с красота под калпак,
задружие, безкористност и трудолюбие во веки..

Левски, що за чиста помисъл и устрем!
Справедлив за благото задружно!
Точен, безусловен, освободил е... теб и мен.
И на него... друго не му е нужно.

Преди присъда блъсна главата в стената,
недоживял да види въстанието ни Априлско,
Обесен, без да знае на Българията бъднината,
неуловим, закачи си цървула, символа Василски!

Заловен от заптиета, него обградили,
След предателство на попа Кръстьо...
Но достойнството - победа на Васила,
направи тъй...
България въкръсна!

Брой мнения : 3203 Age : 28 Registration date : 12.10.2009

Оо, много е хубаво, пиши още неща на български I love you

Код:: Българийка е топличка,
особено в сърцето,
а сестринската метличка
измита гнезденцето.

наистина е топличка, няма друго като родното място, топло до огнището.

Аз другаде не мога да живея. Бях в Испания при тате за 1 месец. Беше все едно съм изоставена на празно летище. Само тук усещам топлина!!!

Брой мнения : 3203 Age : 28 Registration date : 12.10.2009

Как беше там, разкажи ми, моля те?

Беше много празно и тихо. Никой не познавах и тълпите и фиестите по улиците бяха много призрачни за чужденец като мен. Тате беше на работа и по цял ден гледах филми в тишина и писах разни неща, рисувах, но все едно бях супер сама. С хората, с които говорех, попрактикувах езика и това ме зареди... Но са непознати. За екскурзия е прекрасно. Замъци, интересни сгради, хубав сладолед. Но само толкова. Иначе буквално бях никой никъде.

"Fear of Loss"

Always the same scenario...
repeated in my head.
Long days now rarely do
stop haunting in my bed.

The wind is rather quiet;
alas, a whispered song.
I'm blind, my eyes are shut.
For I must be wrong.

No one has died yet;
but I attend a funeral;
for my love is upset
to lose, though presumable.

The weepers shriek,
but can't revive,
along the corpse still vivid.
A mourner, I'm weak,
deader inside,
than the soul forever lifted.

The dead are gone;
but I am here.
Lonely,
on a graveyard.

So, please respawn,
Grim Reaper dear,
my homely
nostalgia inward...

And suddenly, I am awake.
My healthy relative is home.
Under the cozy sun they bake
and our heart feels warm.

God, please put the pain to end.
For I carry an illness inside.
As the years pass, I try to fend
for myself before they die.

I can't retain the sands of hours.
So I hug them,
A new morning...

The smell of bread is ours,
the early sun then
soothes my pre-mourning...

It is always the orange ray
that gently caresses my room...
and as I start the day...
I blush and I bloom.

I love our sun encouraging,
it keeps my family safe.
So please, keep nourishing
us.... for my brutality's a grave.

"My cancer superhero"

A sudden glimpse of trains is hitting
but the avenue is rainy, colder
than my hopes that, weeping,
give you my homely shoulder.
Years passing in the mirror,
a reflection of a retro car,
is your death approaching near?
My cancer hero superstar.
A nebulae fogging eyes,
fragile guitar resting shyly,
politely my heart ignites
your gentleness but why...him?
You never loved as kindly
yet caressed my hoping face.
A videotape is now rewinding,
after disappearance erased.
Your lengthy hair fell down,
its golden promises just dulled.
Your cute abundance left my town,
and your dreams were nulled.
A sunray pierces the sky,
to warm up glassy lens above
a reunion that drearily denies,
yet lights anew my buried love.
In the darkness fire blue
twists itself in a release,
but do you have a clue..?
I won't ever let you leave...
Denial is like winter ravens,
in twilight's ocean of divorce...
A nightmare are God's heavens...
Don't you dare open its doors...!
I need you more than ever.
Cruel in the past, you're crueler now.
You have cancer, I have fever...
Now I confessed to you... but how?
I've been praying all day long,
my notebooks exhausted my pencils,
a campane my grieving songs,
in deploration and repentance...!
I will never let you go...!!
Or is it denial's losing urge??
Love is life, don't tell me no,
I lit a candle in the church...!
I'll simply forbid you to decay then!
I will heal you with my heart.
Don't die on me, my lovely man!!!
Please recover... health... please.. start...
I am constantly checking on you
whether your avatar is green,
this colour is now my favourite hue,
for you are to be seen.
Stay by my side,
you brave survivor.
You pain, your fight...
For your life, I'd die for.

A Quickie

"A trained muscle is a hassle,
on a treadmill is the way;
shall you aim to be gracile,
you have some fitness to obey!"

We can go through cancer, my dear!

Don't give up, my dear sunshine;
your pain is like a knife to me,
your weary face expecting times,
when healthy you will be.

You are a hero on a quest
to regain your cozy smile,
and may your eyes find rest
but because they are alive;

beyond the lengthy struggle,
when each second is eternal,
hopeful trouble; gently huggle
me, in my love maternal.

Love that won't give up;
for we will find the root...
when the horror stops
you'll win a fresh route...

Each illness is a deviation
of mentality that needs reboot.
So we'll get over it, patient.
Your blush forever soothes.

We are helping each other now
to put this opportunity to use;
for I believe the illness' dawn
will make you blossom in truce.

We will activate the light
of your blueprint acquired.
And then your heroic fight
that has made you tired

will lead to a brand new You
with a saintly life mission...
And you're a person who
can do it, for you listen;

you gentle and politest man,
your bravery is unbroken;
and you will be the One
whose heart will reopen..

I am standing by your side,
until your cancer is transmuted...
Despair is not God's, our guide...
For you will be boosted.

Day after day and step by step,
transforming blessings in disguise...
And slowly, we're away from death.
I can't wait. For you'll be wise.

The Father teaches us to pray,
to focus on the humble spirit,
to get back to the righteous way...
and then your trial will be lifted.

St. Gabriel activates records
when one purely opens to God,
when seeing one's sincere efforts
to follow the path of the Lord.

So hold on a while longer, dear...
Heaven's council will notice, I know.
For your adamantine future is near.
Just hang on a bit. You can do it ... wow!

"Prince Duryodhana"
(Mahabharata: spoiler alert)

Strangely silent at the end,
Duryodhana reconciling,
where enemy must be a friend
and a family could be rewinding.

Let go of childhood,
where vice seems to nest.
And yet now he stood
maturely before his rest.

A man's got complexion,
yet pride turns to greed,
when facing rejection;
sheer physical lead.

He hated his cousins,
for he felt they stood out.
Childish whims summon
reckless patterns of doubt.

He tried to trap them
and burn them in a house;
failing it, a new scheme,
king Yudhisthira surely knows.

He tricked him with his father.
Yudhisthira awed the elder ones,
so he gambled all so bothered,
his kingdom, wife and anyone.

Even himself he sold out.
Duryodhana, so corrupted,
mocked his cousins out loud,
their wife he obstructed.

Almost naked, with a cloth,
mensturating and humiliated,
his servants dragged her forth,
ridiculing her; she was hated.

The Pandavi were freed by the elders,
who swore them to follow the jungles.
They humbly meditated in the shelters,
emitting some serious grumbles.

Yudhishtira, Bhima and Arjuna,
Nakula and the dear Sahadeva,
their Draupadi would assume a
bloody vengeance as to sever

the life of all the offenders,
led by Duryodhana and Shakuni,
his maternal uncle, or the mentor
who rolled the dice as a chop suey.

Igniting the ultimate collision,
after the cousins' trial was over,
he tried to prove his mission,
as to beat them 'till a closure.

Glorious kings and princes would cheer,
joining either the one, or the other,
even Krishna was Arjuna's charioteer.
But righteous wars knows who to bother.

Did Duryodhana stand a chance?
With his grandfather Bhishma,
wiping out Pandavis in his dance,
half of their forces; alas - Krishna.

Karna was unknowingly the Sun's son,
at birth disowned by motherly guilt.
actually a Pandavi brother and no one,
Duryodhana's best of pals was killed.

Everyone used weapons divine,
ascetically showing superpowers,
everyone protected, God's design,
alas, Karma's a lesson of ours.

Is it important who's superior
in physical powers at the end?
Victory indeed could be yours,
but yours to be it's never meant.

Duryodhana's dear ones decapitated.
After examples of strategical glory,
after seeming chances demonstrated
in brute force, and now you're sorry.

Starting the battle so corrupted,
to be purified until the end.
Silence suddenly erupted;
you were sanctified; transcend!

Farewell, devious patterns,
releasing miserable paths.
your soul's what now burns,
bursting in pure aftermath.

Indeed, it was a righteous war;
cleared heart, a sense of honor;
an entrance to the surest door,
what a start, rejoice, oh mourner!

Duryodhana, I knee by your side...
Your invincible body was crushed...
You stood a chance in this fight.
Your motivation, it was rushed.

Vice and deviation lost.
Not your spark that won eternity
in victory amid angelic hosts,
Trimurti's wisdom is paternity...

The end is here, happy birthday.
For your death was in bravest of states.
And may it be forever your way...
Virtue and moral 'till the end of days.

"Welcome, Duryodhana!!!"
The war's enemies are a family now.
You saw both fractions in Havona...
And who knows what else you saw!

"Lonely"

I miss you, nothing else to say.
Siberia's the heating of my heart.
Why was it impossible to stay?
To give us a fresh new start.
I guess I have to stay alone.
Your place is always there.
In fact, my chest contains a stone,
its pulsations I can't bear.
I depend on myself now.
I drew my force from you.
I have to go on but how?
I really .... have no clue.
It's sad to be alone.
Feeling lonely burdens me.
We won't really have a home,
where will I even be?
I had a purpose and a dream.
Now the wind replaced it all.
I'm nowhere to be seen
the best is gone beyond the haul.
Success is vaguely scattered,
I am afraid, I should admit,
and if I've ever bothered
to believe, you've said it.
You didn't love me and I knew it.
I just hoped for the impossible.
Am I even noticeable? Prove it.
For now, I see I'm tossable.
I seek God, I meditate a lot.
My gratitude keeps me going.
Yet, without you it's not
like I'm alive or ever loving.
Abandonment is clenching
my belief in all my future.
I'm gullible after your quenching.
Will I be? I'm not sure.
I want to hug you cozily,
even if just while protecting you.
It was late then early,
then it was over before I knew.
I guess I have to face the facts.
I feel dissonance over instability.
When you owe, terms quickly elapse...
and people are known for hostility.
I want to lock myself in books.
Hide in studying and forget.
Living suggests probating looks...
so I can't just avoid my debts.
I will keep on emanating fire,
in hope of good contribution.
Fingers crossed for less dire
situations of due retribution.
I am scared of mishap and loss.
Without you all my perspective
is gone, but I'll bear this cross
until the trial is effective.
Goodbye now, until someday.
I'll be here, somewhat overdue.
I wish next time you would stay.
If not... I'd still dream of you.

"Отхврълена"

Чиста душа под снежна мъгла
се скита да търси любов.
Дали в сърцето му има стъкла
след буря без ничий покров?

И сега го търся в света,
ала май се стопи от мечтата.
Сълзите са също вода,
дано го роди тишината.

И дано веднъж излинял,
да не бе загубил душа.
Защото рядко би се видял
някой с такива крила....

Да, за теб е.

"Eru Ilúvatar"

Father Sabaoth loved from the Sky,
transcendental empty Creation.
Directing the circle's Cube, Alive,
he had In Thought Preparation.

Why should he shape it all,
gifting alone lack of meaning?
His sphere of action is the Law.
"Elohim!" he uttered, winning.

The Flame Imperishable ignited,
at the centre of Netzach's membrane,
The Makers of Form He United,
Life's Outpouring Nexus reigned.

The Creator and Sustainer of Perfection,
Hierarch of The Elohim The Twelve,
Divine Directors serving reflections
of diffracted fractals and atomic shelfs.

The Source connecting I AM wires,
Three-Fold flame in Heart to Form,
Maha Elohim Ouranos' Eternal Fire,
in his hand victoriously storms!

He looked around and saw the Gloria:
Hercules, Apollo, Heros and Astrea;
Cyclopea, Peace, Arcturus and Victoria,
ready to serve seven rays of epopee!

He observed the Void Preexisting,
Ready to Emanate with Their Voice.
The Hierarch, steady, started twisting,
Eru, the protector of his Choice.

The All-Avatar Uttered "Ea!"
and He Trembled within.
Then the Forms were there
and He started the Music to win.

"Heart Craves Home"

Silently, a girl is reading,
how to love and how to serve,
is her heart profoundly bleeding?
Surely, she has a nerve.

Her vision is floating
above castles of light,
covering in overcoating
her heart against the dark.

Shields aren't effective,
compared to the Agni Fire,
pain is still infective
underneath illusions dire.

She reads of karma's ways.
The insight, hovering, lands
on her head, a victorious day,
let Agni burn deceptive plans.

A time of trial has commenced.
A silent test proceeding there,
the Skies have dispensed
Mercy, retribution is aware.

If she fails at truly giving,
her knowledge will be mere weed.
A cult to the self, unforgiving,
is mixing rudeness with greed.

The heart craves its home,
its fiery nature doesn't pardon,
enough of souls that, alone,
are lost in pretenses that harden.

Cheating the system fills the cup
of Justice's sentence of Life.
So maybe... don't read the book
if, vindictive, you decide to lie.

When someone doesn't pay back
it doesn't mean you were cheated.
Give and try to live, while you lack
material prize, yet, you were lifted.

Flames imperishable cleanse,
while Agni forgives no excuses.
And I ... believe in Fire's dance.
The Law's defense it chooses.

So here's the oath of the girl.
Let's protect her fragile path.
The clam's as major as its pearl.
God.... let's trust his aftermath.

Give up all the bad habits,
give up music that destroys,
you won't gain, for it's gratis,
only... The Earth? It won't be noise.

» Into my Heart
» ~You just want attention, You don't want my heart
» ^Broken^heart^(представяне)
» Total Eclipse of the heart