30/04/22 • poem for the anniversary of lucan's death, cut out from his wikipedia + talk page
Lucan's Death - clarify
a youth born in a century he regarded as a kind of death,
who grew up in a city burning with rhetoric.
he studied poetry until it bled
into history, the biography of a dying Republic
the wound at the core of the Silver-Voiced war-ode
he was not allowed to recite or publish.
A conspiracy is when you are discovered breathing
fire (and the rest of the story is better unsaid).
bleeding to death—30 April 65 AD—what survives,
or who? an Orpheus looking back on a City in flames,
the poem superfluous. his last words were disrupted.
an unspeakable judgement given to crime. but
his masterpiece of grief escaped, circulating
unfinished in the veins of other poets. read it and he lives.
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no idea if it's my hormones, what I've seen in the news lately, the weight of living the past few years, or just because it's Judi Dench...but this impromptu performance really made me cry for a good ten minutes, no kidding.
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here is a picture of my cats that i am blazing in the hopes that it displaces a marginally more annoying blazed post you could've had instead. enjoy!
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Nothing like being woken up in the middle of the night to fistfight your godless killing machine of a girlfriend.
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[Before Lucifer got cast out of Heaven]
Angel!Y/N, just found out Lucifer and Lilith are together : You lied to me!
Angel!Y/N : You told me that I am your soulmate! Just get back to that other woman!
Angel!Lucifer : Don’t you understand? You’re the other woman.
Angel!Y/N : No no! You’re supposed to be with me! She’s the other woman!
Angel!Lucifer : Why can’t you understand? It was a mistake, I would never be with you— *immediately regrets it*
Angel!Y/N, distraught :
Angel!Y/N, silently leaves the room :
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The stare. The smile. THE WAY HE FOLLOWS HER MOVEMENTS WITH HIS EYES.
don't ask me about the hot cement I'm about to ingest.
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Thank you everyone for helping me name the cat:
she is called Sonnet 🎵
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**
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Feyd Rautha: You know, there's this wisdom. If a man kills a couple people for you, he loves you. If a man kills a hundred people for you, he just loves to kill. However, I find that I can combine the two.
Paul: Put the knife down
Feyd Rautha: You first.
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[Angel!Y/N & Lucifer going through their old stuff]
Lucifer, digging : Hey.. this looks oddly familiar *pulls it out* wait, isn’t this—
Angel!Y/N, flustered : oh— yeah..
Lucifer : This is my old shirt when I was an angel! You.. kept it all this time?
Angel!Y/N : Yeah, its— uh its means a lot to me..
Lucifer, teasingly : oh really? You even wore it?
Angel!Y/N, chuckles : I actually wear it as my pyjamas to this day
Lucifer, blushed : Y-you do?
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