oh lord, this word i think carries to much of a negative, positive, or indifferent connotation to really mean the same thing for every person. to me its an exclamation used when something stronger won’t work.
My fingers clasped around the iron sword. Blood pooled around my feet, dancing in dark crimson spirals around my calloused leather boots.
His head laid smashed in, the delicate purple robes stained with a mockery and his own liquids. I spat at his face into his vacant, royal eyes.
“As you WISH my lord.”
My lord and my God provides for me. thyyddeewsxfffffmjjjjjgggg vvxxdcxdbbbbbbnnnnnnnnnuuuuulmmmmmmmmmmuiiiinnnnnnnntttttttttvvvvvxxxxxxxxxxxxxxeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggcccccccccccccvvvvvvvvvvvvvvfffffhnnnjmmmmmmmmml,obgffffffffsdreeeeeessssssxxxxklldsjkh tnvucbbbbuweytttttt87645555012 gdf hhhhhhhhamm 8eeeekwt98rrrrrrr 89qpmttkrwe09999 8ew98uqt9ewt98kkkq ewuqt98888888qmtr-98yuuuuuuuu——reqqqqnm qqreyu8re9999999yyysgddnnngkgkkjrk rhrriuotyypppppapppaasidddalmost done… eitjqvca
My entire life I have wondered, ‘What is man’s fascinations with Gods and religion?’ Why is that that we feel like we need to make up stories as our solutions to everything. In the olden times when people weren’t certain as to why there were things such as lighting or waves, they made Zues and Poseiden. Now a days, we have all the answers and Zues and Poseiden have been written off as fiction, but the ancient Greeks were so fixated on the fact that they were right and that that was the only way. God now, is just something use as an excuse to be forgiven for their wrong doings, but perhaps in a few centuries people will evolve in their ways of thinking and realise that they shouldn’t blame anyone or anything but themselves.
Master and Slave. We to our emotions; our emotions to us. Build the bridge– reinforce the supports, the apex of our insecurities– try to cross. Just try to peak inside that door. I dare you to try it! For inside contains the answer. The answer to the question: which are we? The Masters or the Slaves? Players of their infinite game… or the ones who are played.
Oh mon cher, vous êtes trop hautain désormais. Vous ne m’intéressez plus. J’ai beau être hautaine personnellement , je ne cherche pas vraiment l’argent, j’aime vous le faire croire pour voir ce que vous m’offrirez pour combler cette addiction. Cette fausse addiction, si je puis me le permettre.
I didn’t stop to think about it. I knelt and bowed my head. The habit fell forward, shrouding my face from the observance of others. I closed my eyes, waiting for the words of commitment to be spoken. Those who sought my downfall would never find me in service to the lord.
Well, it’s not like he was some kind of underworld drugwar lord or whatever, he’s just a kid who got lost along the way and needs some help. Bryan looked at Sam and decided to tell the police officer who’d answered the phone that he’d made a mistake.
it is so hot outside, is there no breeze in Louisiana! Have we even gotten a break in the complete sun. I could just spend the day away laying in the pool with a tall glass of
Sometimes god is referred to as The Lord. It is something I have never really been comfortable with. Being subservient to a being that possibly doesn’t exist… but the entire class system and idea that some people are better than others is also worrying to me.
Lord is the type of word that gives a great feeling to the owner or recipient. Should it be that way?
I wish my father would have felt he was lord of the manor.
But in an apartment surrounded by annoying neighbors that was hard to do.
And in our home, surrounded by three women and a female cat, he was so
outnumbered. In my mind, he was the lord of the manor.
My lip trembled at the sight of you, quaking in my bones, I felt your sight, your flashing grin through your limp body. You rested in your pine coffin, waiting to see the the lord. I wondered if you still loved me.
When a rock is thrown into a lake, the ripples come out, one by one. In a flash you see it on a screen, on the news, the crying grandmother, the broken parents, and then the small ripple, the one unseen, uncared for, was me. I just couldn’t handle it. I still don’t know how this happened.
No one knew you would take your own life, except me.
I just didn’t stop you.
Drunk as Lords was an expression that Guy sometimes heard. And on nights like this, as he surveyed his kingdom, the speakeasy he supplied, he felt like a fucking King. He should get people to address him as My Lord.
I looked into his eyes and thought to myself lord he’s beautiful. My baby boy, of all the things I have failed at, I managed to make a beautiful baby boy.
god. that’s what she calls god. ‘dear lord,’ she prays. i look around at everyone’s closed eyes. i scratch my knee. ‘lord, o, lord,’ they moan in return. i get up, quietly, and go off to look for the bathroom.
“Dear lord, Lia, what have you done to the nursery?” Imogen had just gotten home from work, seeing the nursery that they had just put together yesterday all moved around, the crib now against the opposite wall, and Lia looking up from her spot in the rocking chair. “It seems better this way, it makes more sense…” Smiling, shaking her head, Imogen crossed the room to her girlfriend, kissing the top of her head. “You’re adorable.”
She walked around haughtily, enjoying the fact that she could lord over us as she liked. I snarled, but only internally since her powers controlled even my facial expressions.
“Go clean my chambers, Alexia.” She ordered.
My body betrayed me by standing and walking to the supply closet so I could clean her room.
life its self had imploded in my hands, where is this so called lord to protect me. I’m on my knees begging for the life I know I deserve but my prays our never answered…
Lord, can I ask you something, would you still love me, if I hated those who followed your every step? They are not holy, they burn, burn, burn, every day hating ones around them and feeling like without the presence of the lord, that the person is sin. I believe in you, but I don’t believe in your people. I may have inked skin and a pierced body, but I respect you.
Wouldn’t you still love me?
My savior, creator of the world. I would like to have Him more central to my life. Part of the holy trinity. The creator of the commandments. Father of the Son who came to earth to save us from our sins.
Lord is a God, my God. Not just anyone’s God, but loving religion. Not like the master of a serf, but a kind father. A father who gave us one truly amazing gift: life.
Lord. Master. Commander. These were all things he had called him, in the two hundred years they had known each other. But being in Vegas had brought a new dynamic, one that he had never expected. Certainly the Lord of Storms never had, either; he was distant, rude, and unruly. But now they could add another title, and it felt right.
Good lord I haven’t used a capital letter…does that mean I don’t believe in you, or am I just careless? Well, you should know. Oops, did I just give it away? Am I speaking to you or am I speaking to space, air, skin flakes and photons made by some…some…something bigger than me. You have little things in your head sometimes and this time I think it’s you that’s in my head. You know that white noise, lightning stuff behind your eyes? I think it must be the remnants of the Big Bang. Lord…lord…l-o-r-d. All you are is letters. I could spell you backwards and you’d mean as much as you do right now.
He felt like he had to lord my debt to him over me. I never again asked him for a favor but I couldn’t afford to pay him back right away. It put a serious strain on our friendship.
She slowly got down on her bruised knees and rested her tired arms on the pew in front of her. She sighed and put her hands in the position she had done every Sunday every year since she could remember. And she prayed to the lord who had forgotten her. The lord who had countlessly betrayed her. The lord who didn’t exist. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Jesus Christ is my Lord. King of Kings and Lord of Lords. I love HIm with everything I am. I wish i could express it better to people with more words so they can see it through my perspective. All any one ever does is push me away. it hurts because i not only want them to know our Lord, but our Lord wants to get to know them.
oh lord. she thought to herself as she stared out into the field. Oh lord. She felt her knees tremble. She looked up to the sky, running her hands through her hair. Oh lord, why here?
The lord of the hall stood tall staring down at his subjects. He detested them. However, he loved what they gave him. The gifts. Piles upon piles. Everything he could imagine, money, food, and workers. But he hated the way they talked, and stood around, the way they lived, and the way their grimy dirtiness.
He came into the candlelit church, got down on his knees in front of the altar, and began to pray. He needed this. He needed it more than anything else in the world. He had never been one to look to a lord or anything of the sort to solve his problems, but right now he could think of nothing else to help.
I can’t believe this has happened… again! Why can’t people just live in the moment and take the chance on life? All I want is to be happy… doesn’t he want to be happy? Why can’t we be happy together? Lord help me convince him…
There is no lord on earth but myself. I get so angry whenever someone tries to rule over me, it’s just wrong! Let people be left alone to their own devices and almost all will be fine.
oh lord, this word i think carries to much of a negative, positive, or indifferent connotation to really mean the same thing for every person. to me its an exclamation used when something stronger won’t work.
My fingers clasped around the iron sword. Blood pooled around my feet, dancing in dark crimson spirals around my calloused leather boots.
His head laid smashed in, the delicate purple robes stained with a mockery and his own liquids. I spat at his face into his vacant, royal eyes.
“As you WISH my lord.”
He was lord over all the realm, a vast expanse of farm and town, crowned by a huge hulking castle in the middle of it all.
But it didn’t help, didn’t take away the constant feeling he had of somehow not being adequate, not being worthy, not being good enough.
My lord and my God provides for me. thyyddeewsxfffffmjjjjjgggg vvxxdcxdbbbbbbnnnnnnnnnuuuuulmmmmmmmmmmuiiiinnnnnnnntttttttttvvvvvxxxxxxxxxxxxxxeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggcccccccccccccvvvvvvvvvvvvvvfffffhnnnjmmmmmmmmml,obgffffffffsdreeeeeessssssxxxxklldsjkh tnvucbbbbuweytttttt87645555012 gdf hhhhhhhhamm 8eeeekwt98rrrrrrr 89qpmttkrwe09999 8ew98uqt9ewt98kkkq ewuqt98888888qmtr-98yuuuuuuuu——reqqqqnm qqreyu8re9999999yyysgddnnngkgkkjrk rhrriuotyypppppapppaasidddalmost done… eitjqvca
He is over all…the one and the only…my anchor…ruler of all…master of my life…the leader…the one I want to follow…worthy…
OH SWEET LAWD. lord antonio was walking across the street one day and slayed this dragon, because that’s just what bad ass mother fucking lords do. :)
My entire life I have wondered, ‘What is man’s fascinations with Gods and religion?’ Why is that that we feel like we need to make up stories as our solutions to everything. In the olden times when people weren’t certain as to why there were things such as lighting or waves, they made Zues and Poseiden. Now a days, we have all the answers and Zues and Poseiden have been written off as fiction, but the ancient Greeks were so fixated on the fact that they were right and that that was the only way. God now, is just something use as an excuse to be forgiven for their wrong doings, but perhaps in a few centuries people will evolve in their ways of thinking and realise that they shouldn’t blame anyone or anything but themselves.
of the rings
Master and Slave. We to our emotions; our emotions to us. Build the bridge– reinforce the supports, the apex of our insecurities– try to cross. Just try to peak inside that door. I dare you to try it! For inside contains the answer. The answer to the question: which are we? The Masters or the Slaves? Players of their infinite game… or the ones who are played.
Oh mon cher, vous êtes trop hautain désormais. Vous ne m’intéressez plus. J’ai beau être hautaine personnellement , je ne cherche pas vraiment l’argent, j’aime vous le faire croire pour voir ce que vous m’offrirez pour combler cette addiction. Cette fausse addiction, si je puis me le permettre.
I didn’t stop to think about it. I knelt and bowed my head. The habit fell forward, shrouding my face from the observance of others. I closed my eyes, waiting for the words of commitment to be spoken. Those who sought my downfall would never find me in service to the lord.
Well, it’s not like he was some kind of underworld drugwar lord or whatever, he’s just a kid who got lost along the way and needs some help. Bryan looked at Sam and decided to tell the police officer who’d answered the phone that he’d made a mistake.
it is so hot outside, is there no breeze in Louisiana! Have we even gotten a break in the complete sun. I could just spend the day away laying in the pool with a tall glass of
Sometimes god is referred to as The Lord. It is something I have never really been comfortable with. Being subservient to a being that possibly doesn’t exist… but the entire class system and idea that some people are better than others is also worrying to me.
Lord is the type of word that gives a great feeling to the owner or recipient. Should it be that way?
I wish my father would have felt he was lord of the manor.
But in an apartment surrounded by annoying neighbors that was hard to do.
And in our home, surrounded by three women and a female cat, he was so
outnumbered. In my mind, he was the lord of the manor.
My lip trembled at the sight of you, quaking in my bones, I felt your sight, your flashing grin through your limp body. You rested in your pine coffin, waiting to see the the lord. I wondered if you still loved me.
When a rock is thrown into a lake, the ripples come out, one by one. In a flash you see it on a screen, on the news, the crying grandmother, the broken parents, and then the small ripple, the one unseen, uncared for, was me. I just couldn’t handle it. I still don’t know how this happened.
No one knew you would take your own life, except me.
I just didn’t stop you.
Drunk as Lords was an expression that Guy sometimes heard. And on nights like this, as he surveyed his kingdom, the speakeasy he supplied, he felt like a fucking King. He should get people to address him as My Lord.
What would his subjects do without his alcohol?
Be sober, he supposed.
I looked into his eyes and thought to myself lord he’s beautiful. My baby boy, of all the things I have failed at, I managed to make a beautiful baby boy.
god. that’s what she calls god. ‘dear lord,’ she prays. i look around at everyone’s closed eyes. i scratch my knee. ‘lord, o, lord,’ they moan in return. i get up, quietly, and go off to look for the bathroom.
“Dear lord, Lia, what have you done to the nursery?” Imogen had just gotten home from work, seeing the nursery that they had just put together yesterday all moved around, the crib now against the opposite wall, and Lia looking up from her spot in the rocking chair. “It seems better this way, it makes more sense…” Smiling, shaking her head, Imogen crossed the room to her girlfriend, kissing the top of her head. “You’re adorable.”
Oh lord, what on earth am I going to do?
I think this probably the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make. Do I stay, or do I go?
And if I stay, what then? Do I try to change things, or just put up and shut up?
She walked around haughtily, enjoying the fact that she could lord over us as she liked. I snarled, but only internally since her powers controlled even my facial expressions.
“Go clean my chambers, Alexia.” She ordered.
My body betrayed me by standing and walking to the supply closet so I could clean her room.
life its self had imploded in my hands, where is this so called lord to protect me. I’m on my knees begging for the life I know I deserve but my prays our never answered…
Lord, can I ask you something, would you still love me, if I hated those who followed your every step? They are not holy, they burn, burn, burn, every day hating ones around them and feeling like without the presence of the lord, that the person is sin. I believe in you, but I don’t believe in your people. I may have inked skin and a pierced body, but I respect you.
Wouldn’t you still love me?
My savior, creator of the world. I would like to have Him more central to my life. Part of the holy trinity. The creator of the commandments. Father of the Son who came to earth to save us from our sins.
Lord is a God, my God. Not just anyone’s God, but loving religion. Not like the master of a serf, but a kind father. A father who gave us one truly amazing gift: life.
Well that was productive. He’s just a pimp with access to good coke. He’s not a drug lord by any means. Not even close.
We have wasted a month following this “perv with power” and for what? It’s you who’s gonna have to explain this to the captain.
Lord. Master. Commander. These were all things he had called him, in the two hundred years they had known each other. But being in Vegas had brought a new dynamic, one that he had never expected. Certainly the Lord of Storms never had, either; he was distant, rude, and unruly. But now they could add another title, and it felt right.
Now he could call him “friend.”
Good lord I haven’t used a capital letter…does that mean I don’t believe in you, or am I just careless? Well, you should know. Oops, did I just give it away? Am I speaking to you or am I speaking to space, air, skin flakes and photons made by some…some…something bigger than me. You have little things in your head sometimes and this time I think it’s you that’s in my head. You know that white noise, lightning stuff behind your eyes? I think it must be the remnants of the Big Bang. Lord…lord…l-o-r-d. All you are is letters. I could spell you backwards and you’d mean as much as you do right now.
He felt like he had to lord my debt to him over me. I never again asked him for a favor but I couldn’t afford to pay him back right away. It put a serious strain on our friendship.
Seems like I only use this word in prayer; beseeching, apologizing.
She slowly got down on her bruised knees and rested her tired arms on the pew in front of her. She sighed and put her hands in the position she had done every Sunday every year since she could remember. And she prayed to the lord who had forgotten her. The lord who had countlessly betrayed her. The lord who didn’t exist. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Jesus Christ is my Lord. King of Kings and Lord of Lords. I love HIm with everything I am. I wish i could express it better to people with more words so they can see it through my perspective. All any one ever does is push me away. it hurts because i not only want them to know our Lord, but our Lord wants to get to know them.
i’m sorry, who?
dear lord, if I should die, please let my external hard drive know I love it. Love, computer.
oh lord. she thought to herself as she stared out into the field. Oh lord. She felt her knees tremble. She looked up to the sky, running her hands through her hair. Oh lord, why here?
The lord of the hall stood tall staring down at his subjects. He detested them. However, he loved what they gave him. The gifts. Piles upon piles. Everything he could imagine, money, food, and workers. But he hated the way they talked, and stood around, the way they lived, and the way their grimy dirtiness.
He came into the candlelit church, got down on his knees in front of the altar, and began to pray. He needed this. He needed it more than anything else in the world. He had never been one to look to a lord or anything of the sort to solve his problems, but right now he could think of nothing else to help.
OH LOORDIE LOU.
I can’t believe this has happened… again! Why can’t people just live in the moment and take the chance on life? All I want is to be happy… doesn’t he want to be happy? Why can’t we be happy together? Lord help me convince him…
There is no lord on earth but myself. I get so angry whenever someone tries to rule over me, it’s just wrong! Let people be left alone to their own devices and almost all will be fine.