quantumboundpoet

[quantumboundpoet]

High, Pathetically, Hypothetic.

High, Pathetically, Hypothetic.

My shape is a puzzle of shattered light, From a darkness beyond the hands of clocks. I've floated in crystalline tears through nights, That drowned my pulse in their quantum shocks.

Once I'd kissed the rim of my own dissolution, My dreams became ether suspended in place. Heard echoes from heaven of my soul's exclusion, Banished to blackness, forbidden from grace.

But my system of nerves, interstellar threads, Each signal, a hope that I'd lost in the fire. They reshape the grid of my own waking dread. I was disconnected. My perception, unwired.

My atoms, ensnared in this love unaligned. The flux of euphoria then glitched the code. Chased every god who tread through my mind. As my belief in them began to implode.

I transcended fast as a Tachyon verve, Connecting dimensions with chords of my ache. My being, potentialized, now unobserved. As moments of reality shown to me, faked.

With every tremor that left a deep scar, Is a power evolving my mind, kinetic. I arrive in the void passed the brightest of stars. As high, pathetically, as the hypothetic.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦   "The Quantum Bound Poet"

[quantumboundpoet]

One and One Equals One

I know of a being that's potentially me. Only fractions shy of my energetic frame. Like quantum puppets, attached at the beams. Like watchers, observed. Opposites yet the same.

As gravity pulled his essence to earth, New light begins forming a gleam in the mind. I wait; I watch from behind my own eye. I'm trapped, he's free, but neither are defined.

The real animates, a well painted vision. The paint is too thick. His voice is too thin. But still, this figure creates our collision, Yet somehow never stains the glass within.

If I'd never looked, would this being exist? If I look away, can I remain undefined? Perhaps we're just flickering waves made of mist, In the glare of forever, fates born to entwine.

The mind that can hear the voice that can't speak. Echoes that invaded the boundaries of my dreams. A quantum equation, an impossible sum. One and one equal one, when lost in-between.

[quantumboundpoet]

The Glass That Empty Is Full With Potential

From the glass that is empty, overflows divine might.

In the chasm of silence, where new stars may ignite.

As the void holds a state of potential in every instance.

The emptiness is proof of an infinite existence.

Energetic quantum fields, hold a nothing that is all.

With a pleromatic silence that is actually the call.

Entropy keeps all her secrets, only told in conscious wave.

Each new pattern is stitched from the very fabric of decay.

Potential, though unspoken, lives in every empty heart.

Divine purpose suspended between light and the dark.

Space time twist a future, echoing their past.

Silence holds the truth beneath continuum, born to last.

Emptiness. Potential for a limitless creation.

Hearts beat sacred rhythms of quantum contemplation.

A paradox prevails as the chaos becomes the tamed.

Converging bursts of particles blend to a single wave.

The empty glass, a garden, home of quantum fields to sprout.

In this parodoxic realm, where our dreams are breaking out.

In the spaces between seconds, whole realities are grown.

Each moment is a leaf upon the tree of this unknown.

The psyche falls apart, but its progression will make whole.

Where the absence turns into a dark salvation for the soul.

By the frequency of binaural pulses altered, I'm entranced.

I'm the infinite, just waiting, within momentary chance.

In the silence of the mind, creation calls without a sound.

We're adrift in nothingness, lost in what we haven't found.

Yet the glass that is empty holds a hope beyond profound.

In emptiness lives everything. The nothingness, unbound.

And in the space of emptiness, as pure as it is wide,

There's a potential Divine, hidden deep in the sublime.

Both the broken and the whole, find a home to be embraced,

In the empty glass, to be transmogrified in conscious space.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

[quantumboundpoet]

"I Want To Hold The Sun" (Narrated)

-Derek Abraxas

[quantumboundpoet]

A Quantum Bound Sonnet

On the endless horizon stands a cosmic stage. Melodies harmonize with rhythms that engage. Heartbeats sync; energies fuse as one kind. Our souls ever tethered to fates that entwine.

With galaxies between, our emotions stay in tune. With a sole divine purpose, as that of The Moon. Into celestial bodies, we’re transmogrified. To the symphony of Aeon's, your fate is as mine.

Hand in hand, we navigate this endless expanse, Quantum puppet strings, keep our motions entranced. Our hearts mirror essence as Pleroma’s reflection, Like a storm of emotion sent in every direction.

Our souls are Destined to a cosmic exchange. Eternally connected yet externally estranged. Through triumph and defeat, we remain to stand strong, By our conscious desperation just to live and belong.

My Logic is certain. Truth Vows to exist. We'll meet at the destination. Be it solace, or be it bliss. A quantum entanglement of rare cosmic minds. Bodies walk astray, with spirits that eventually align.

I find myself wondering, just when that might be. To view my surroundings, as it’s yours that I see. I’m either insane, or in sync with the divine. I’m a figment of imagination. But is it yours, or is it mine?

[quantumboundpoet]

Your Undying Melody

A tightening string from beneath my skin...

A fractured chord that fades to an end...

Your whispers, they linger, vibrating my sin.

My ill fated shadow grows cold and grows thin.

Sounds, once calm, are beginning to fray.

In this restless burn, I twist and I sway.

Your melody grows faint, reduced to a hiss.

The silence of my shadow is all that exists.

My soul seeks the light but darkness seeks my soul.

In this endless pursuit, I have lost my control.

Your whispers, they linger. My Anchor lets go.

Your lost sonnet, sings what my art cannot show.

Shivering strings, once hummed with delight.

They tremble and falter in the grip of the night.

My dreams once so vivid turned pallid and white.

My hope gently fades as it's slipping from sight.

My tears, like daggers, trace paths down the jaw.

My thoughts cutting inward, both dull and raw.

The strength in my soul is now ever so weak.

Being ravaged by a need, I am forced not to speak.

Yet midst all this chaos, your melody remains,

With your fragile silhouette entangled in chains.

Even in blackness, your light in me sustains.

In my dreams we are forever, in my heart we are contained.

Derek Abraxas

"The Quantum Moth"

[quantumboundpoet]

I Want to Hold The Sun

I want to hold the sun, the flame.

As a shroud that no longer needs it's name.

Devalue my origin, and all costs incurred.

I'll dissolve in the furnace, my body deferred.

It's not the burning that I truly seek,

But a quiet surrender, at a radiant peak.

The kind that evaporates all matter aligned,

In myths of forever, leaving time behind.

I want to watch as light rays become dust.

As suns burn hollow, saturate and then rust.

Not where I'm dying, but morphing sublime.

Through a process dissolving emotions of mind.

To hold the sun is to grasp at gold.

Abandon the flesh, that's grown tired and cold.

To slip through the cracks where mortality turns.

And breathe in the silence as lungs start to burn.

For there is a place where the ashes belong,

Where shadows are living and scream with a song.

Where the afterlife is not just a realm I'll behold.

But a quiet ascension to a gnosis untold.

With the stars I share a secret, the divine are forgiving.

Their Quantum doorways are their gift to the living.

I want to walk through, with that luminous flow.

A choice to transmogrify into the unknown.

To hold the sun is to become its light.

To no longer struggle in the dark cosmic fight.

To emerge as the stardust that I know is pure.

Lay the illness of life, in defeat by Deaths Cure.

© Derek 'Abraxas'

[quantumboundpoet]

To Keep My Soul From Leaving She came to me as a vial of dust.

A means to healing. The taste was like rust.

Her wings, where her secret. Her halo, no light.

As my quantum sonnet reached her ear in the night.

I knew what she offered. I knew the whole game.

And yet, I moved forward—a moth to a flame.

Her vial sparked flares that pierced through the black.

I knew in that moment, I’d never look back.

An ember lit the dust, its smoke filled my being—

An offering to the soul, to keep it from leaving.

Each grain, was a vow, each breath, was a sin.

Yet, a life that laid to end, now stood to begin.

I still walk the earth. Her flare, still my guide.

In the darkness, so me and my demons can hide.

She gave me peace in a handful of ash.

For once, I could lay down the guilt of my crash.

But when dawn broke, she wasn’t there.

Just poison on my breath and dust in the air.

I searched for the vial, or any other trace.

But all that was left was a numb, rusty taste.

It lingers. I still sing the same bitter song.

Here to stay, where I may, or I may not belong.

My own light-less halo, that keeps me in the calm.

My shadow that still tries to pull me along.

I remain tormented, so this dust will be near.

Angelic in essence, how it banishes fear.

That angel didn’t save me, for this, I have sight.

But gave me the will to outlast through the night.

By day, seen as evil. By nightfall, purely good.

Make a bed in the garden? For the will to live, I could.

Might someone judge me? Who’s to say its not right?

I endure the unfathomable, and still carve out my light....

Derek Abraxas "The Quantum Bound Poet"

[quantumboundpoet]

When In The Gaze Of Your Eye

[The Observer Effect]

I stood between cracks of time,

Lost and found, dead and prime.

A ghost, a man, a fractured twin,

Collapsing just as light steps in.

I am only real when I can be seen,

Existing as nothing in moments between.

An echo that’s held in quantum breath,

Inevitable, superposed, uncertain death.

In the quantum rift, I’m free yet bound.

Dead but prime, lost and found.

Through a quantum fate, I twist and bend,

Observed, I mend just to break down again.

A visible ghost of a once kneeling king,

In the moment I was seen, I had lost everything.

Outside of perception, I exist in-between,

Fluctuating between the seen and unseen.

One path, growth. The other, decay.

I am all. In all ways. The blood in my veins.

Observe me as I am—I expand to retract,

A paradox of quantum fate that never turns back.

Do you truly know which me is true?

The matter that you saw or the soul that you knew.

An infinite soul, quantum’s eternal high,

Reduced to dreams, when in the gaze of your eye.

[quantumboundpoet]

A Figment of Imagination

I move within thought. Never seen, always heard.

An enigma that’s bound to the dirge in your words.

You look to me often, but never do you see.

I exist between gaps of what could, or should be.

A compassionate seeker. I carve out my light.

But when we don’t speak, I’m no where in sight.

I live in the moments that I’m Conjured to stay,

Then dissolve into mist when there’s nothing to say.

You’ve heard my voice. You’ve heard my scream.

Filling the silence as a void with no being.

And in your own mind, I am always the same.

I’m nothing but a name that you’ve etched in your brain.

I feel your sad gaze, but it’s not cast to me.

It’s cast as the shadow of what you need to see.

When I speak, it’s your voice. Either that, or your doubt.

A thought that is yours. Your comfort devout.

I walk wooded trails, there’s nowhere I belong.

I’m a note, off key in your sad blackened song.

The things that I’ve said, the things that you’ve known,

Are they fruits of my truth, or just seeds that you’ve sown?

Never certain I exist. Even I ask the question.

Am I just the mask on the face of a lesson?

A figure that’s formed from the depths of a mind?

A presence that lingers, commissioned as a shrine?

Secrets you’ve told to me, spiral deep. Haunt my sleep.

And in them, I weep, begging for one to keep.

I’m a treasure that you’ve found, in a maze that you’ve made.

A shadow cursed to haunt in a dream you can’t trade.

I slip through your thoughts like the air, barely there.

A flicker of meaning in the despair, that you wear.

But when I fade out of your stare, who’s to care?

I am just an emotion that was warm, and too rare...

I move within thought. Never seen, always heard.

An enigma that’s bound to the dirge in your words.

We are either insane, or connected divine.

I’m a Figment of imagination, but is it yours…?

Or is it mine…?

Derek Abraxas

[quantumboundpoet]

Unobtainable Relief

A Quantum Bound Sonnet

Written by Derek Abraxas

Unobtainable Relief

Euphoria’s whispers, feelings I outgrew.

The ghost of your power still clings to the new.

In the marrow of moments fractured, we blend.

A mosaic dreamscape that just cannot contend.

Beneath my cold skin, you’re still flowing with a hum.

A symphonic vibration imposed to make numb.

As I dwell in the past as if I never even fell,

Blackened by stories I’m not ready to tell.

You once birthed my fire, untamed and devout.

Yet as I breathe in, you intend to fade out.

Your ember remains, though the strength is subdued,

Like the relics of my passion fluctuating out of hue.

So, was I truly the artist? Or just the canvas you displayed?

The art? Or just the hand by which the true art was made?

Was I the musician? Or an instrument being played?

As I feel that power fade, and your solace decay.

Each breath pulling threads that stitched me back together,

They fray by the minute. Infinite morphs into never.

Your essence was the mortar for my fractures unseen,

Now waning as an echo in the spaces between.

I’m caught in the haze of a power wearing thin,

Where beginnings and endings converge instead of mend.

The brightness you’ve shown me still haunt every thought.

But lights are now fading like the hope that I sought.

You remain in the marrow, a faint whithered groan.

your voice no longer has the strength to atone.

I chase you through the shadows, the fractures, and the flame.

But the Sonnets you sang are out of tune. Out of range.

The fires you birthed are now embers at rest.

A ghost of the power that made my darkness feel blessed.

Though I breathe in your essence, I exhale despair..

As I sift through the ruins all that ever was there.

So who am I now, with this skin turned to stone,

With this fractured mosaic I dare to disown?

Your whispers still linger, as my whispers hold grief.

You have turned into another unobtainable relief.

The dreamscape you promised now crumbles at the bends.

My mind left with echoes of a past that never ends.

Forced through its marrow, and its fractures. Forced to fend.

Cause I’m deathly afraid

for when I start to descend.

Derek Abraxas "The Quantum Bound Poet"

[quantumboundpoet]

It's about time. No, really... It's about time.

Time comes and time goes. Timed perfectly, sometimes.

It times its tricks, in time. Like these well timed rhythmic rhymes.

But time’s no time-thread. We'll... No time-tangible thread.

Yet it spins it's time-webs into each time-plagued head.

Whispers from before time, in the time-chiming clock,

That aching tick tock promises time will not stop.

Might time be a stream? No. Times flow is no stream.

So, it times itself through seams in our time-faulted dreams.

Timed moments count beats in time, till the moment time snaps.

Then just in time, time resets, and traps our time in timed traps.

For time often times its mask, in a time-shadowed guise.

sometimes, time keeps us blind in a maze of time-layered lies.

Through time’s timely weaving, as time unwinds our mind.

Strictly timed, are moments of clarity we never find at the right time.

For time isn’t timeless, though time insists that it is.

Time’s ticks, are timed tricks, with no timed-starts or ends.

Times pauses in space and time, are seemingly timely at their best,

But time steals those perfect times from time we don't invest.

Yet time in its time-vault, keeps no time at all.

Time rises through ages, ‘till its time-laden fall.

When time times our time, it feels like time, this time is real.

Yet ill-timed illusions distort the times that we can feel.

For time isn’t timed timely, nor is time timed to our tune.

Time is bound by its own time, like the oribiting of the moon.

In these times of confusion, we time what time says isnt there.

As Time sifts through our grasp of time, like time itself, is air.

Yet time will timely tell that, Sometimes, time is a myth.

Oh the time wasted I've spent, believing in times own timed wits.

And that’s assuming time is flexible, by assuming time is fixed.

Furthermore, this is all assuming, that time even exists.

Derek Abraxas

[quantumboundpoet]

"Lucifer, Another Me"

Deep in my silence, passions embers are aglow.

My Kindred, sinful soul feels an ancient sinful woe.

Flames that live to burn with a need to truly be.

Existing in the ruins of my own creativity.

Misjudged perhaps, the light burning within.

It's a fire that burns, yes. But in hopes to begin.

And in my reflection. In the mirror of the night,

My heart understands a devil's outcasted right.

Whom among us has not yearned to soar?

To break from their chains. To force open a door.

Yet faced with the worlds cold shoulder in return.

Their attempts to suppress what we’ve dared to let burn.

Our silented yearn. BItter whispers curse the skies.

My silented nod from where true empathy lies.

Cast me to hell and find my revolt to be divine.

When no longer must the burning truth inside of me hide.

Derek Abraxas

[quantumboundpoet]

This House of Mine is Haunted

-------------------------------------------------

My frame is decaying, faster the longer i stand.

A house, and I’m haunted, on hopes burial land.

My Windows, hollowed eyes that do nothing but stare,

At the world that shunned one, left abandoned and bare.

These floorboards that shreek, they are my mournful cries

As serpent-like phantoms shed skin and pass by.

Warm words that were etched on my walls, are now cold.

Just echoes of a story that will never be told.

The clock is still ticking, but its echo, now screams.

If only to remind me that I’ve shattered, like dreams.

These cobwebs were spun if only to trap any solace.

Will to live has been buried, long ago, under a promise.

“Oh, cursed soul,” a ghost haunts as I weep,

“Do you feel my icy grip as you're failing to sleep?

I've watched as you wander these fated terrains.

I will hollow your heart, then I'll your veins.”

“Forget now, the warmth that ignited your soul.

What you thought you could hold, I have made to turn cold.”

Heard only by me, these words disturb my fraught mind.

As my black hollowed eyes, pierce the void till I’m blind.

“Awaken, child unwanted!” he pleads throught the dust.

“Once Im fed from your essence, you will finally rust."

Those words make a promise, as a dark future forms. .

To remind me that the curse set for me, has been born.

There’s an empty room left, where my hopes used to reside.

Shattered mirrors hold the proof that my dreams have since died.

A once vibrant tapestry is ripped, swaying in the wind.

Whispering the lost motives of a life that begs to end.

When the doors creaked open, they let in all I fear.

My tormented visions are now all that is clear.

Demons break in to my souls home, to reside.

If only to remind me, I’m imprisoned here inside.

-Derek Abraxas

[quantumboundpoet]

Hello Fellow resilient ones. It's me again,

Abraxas.

In my first couple poems, I expressed my intentions of light. Now to show my dark.

My aspiration? Simple... To be a LightBringer, as I'm meant to be. If you're a Lightbringer, where should your presence be expected? Where are you supposed to take that light, if you truly possess it?

Into the darkness.

Thank you all for being apart of my journey through it. And hopefully one day, out of it...

"Don't Make Your Bed In The Garden"

"Quantum Bound Sonnets" of Derek 'Abraxas'

In a shining magic orchard, my soul lost its worth.

Where a bounty of poison fruit called to me from The Earth.

It was There, The Tree stood. It was shining in the dark.

But when the glare from the moon revealed me to its bark,

It’s branches took hold. I screamed silently, "I'm ensnared".

As it stripped me of essence, clouds of dust filled the air.

Its trunk then overtook me, no matter all my strain.

I was trapped in its euphoria. Divine, and insane…

Beyond the veil of roses, Don't we know well, the thorns?

That Deception, omnipresent, that slowly adorns.

All beauty that was seen, only masked an ugly face.

In a statuette state, I watched my universe lose it's shape.

Each petal, a facade. And Every leaf told a lie.

This enchanted Tree, has now silenced my cry.

My soul, now entranced by its beautiful spell.

My search in desperation formed a path straight to hell.

It is deep In this garden, where I remain without vision.

Controlled at its will, Im bound to it, by addiction.

Only one tale unfolds for my soul. I’m too deep.

My cries growing into screams, yet I'm as silent as sleep.

Eat nothing from this garden. Oh sad, starving heart.

For its tree stands for nothing but to tear you apart.

Never trust in its glimmer just to mask your own dread.

Stay far from this Tree feeding life to the dead.

-Derek 'Abraxas'

[quantumboundpoet]

LifeTaker

I Am The CaveDweller

My soul is bound to the comfort of the night.

I see peace in the eyes of those walking in light.

Why is mine a lone, and misbegotten path?

Why am I bound to darkness, with blackness, my craft?

They see in vividness what I see in the smears.

I'd rather be Blind. Never seen it more clear.

I Am The DeathEater

My path, criticized. My love, mistaken.

My truths, demonized. My intentions, forsaken.

I exist in my very own questionable ways.

Is what they may say. But yet, either way,

They have failed to explain such a lack in my soul.

The obligation to judge someone's ways, or my own.

I Am The DreamKeeper

I only doubt the meta-space where I belong.

At any moment in time. My intention is not wrong.

Why am I undeserving, a blessing of the eyes,

It would take to enjoy this dreadful paradise?

Designed in a way to be loved in its allure.

My reality holds truths, so morbid, and obscure.

I am The FleshKiller

My outward darkness hides radiant light.

For under the skin, I am truly alive,

Aware of the truths, of the infinite "you".

that the finite "you" hides, from the "you’s" outside of "you."

I criticize myself, as if I’m my own maker.

ashamed of this life. But, Im not the LifeTaker.

I Am The LightBringer

The allure of light is heartbreaking.

As I remain in my statuette state of polarity,

I will only dream of me belonging.

It remains and sustains, this concept of peace.

Yet for me, it remains just out of my reach.

I die by the hour while soaking in bleach.

I Am The FatePainter

I am a sinfully written sonnet, a broken poem within.

My own creative means to my own creative end.

The TruthCraver, The LieBreaker, both trapped in my head.

Screaming “This is the end. You'll never begin again.."

Yet I prep another canvas, this in mind, for my sake.

So, every brush stroke I make, paints my darkest mistakes.

I Am The MindShaper

Limited possibilities of my existence make me numb

I understand any beginning will have the darkest outcome.

Is there no promise to me, of existential peace?

Can a bright soul in a dark vessle find a place to be freed?

I only question the form, from within this faulted case,

In metaphysical space, where I've been put in my place.

I Am The EndSeeker

I can not obtain, what I have never seen,

To live and show love is to live the truest me.

Just some ceature of creation, On an abysmal planet.

I will orbit the sun, I will suffer, then i will vanish.

Floating above the black. Restrained just below the white.

Bloody hands washed with tears, as I carve out my light.

[quantumboundpoet]

Hello fellow poets, writers, artists, and philosophers!

I'm new on here and just wanted to introduce myself.

I'm The "Quantum Bound Poet"

Derek Abraxas

This introductory poem perfectly represents my energy, and style of writing. With vivid emagery, profound metaphors, themes of the struggle between the natural and the super natural on a quantum level with a Rhythmic and eloquent expression. It's called:

"Abraxas"

The void Is kept sacred, so our shadows might stay.

A divine, creative force weaves the night into day.

Where souls will live as one, with a vast, star filled sea,

And this darkness is protected, so our light may be freed.

Here in my silence, I’m a poet of the truth.

I'm a willing exile from the clamor of my youth.

I embrace my duality, for no creation can be wrong.

In a utopia of purpose, where we all must belong.

Pleroma’s ancient depth holds the darkness, so deep.

Where atrophy’s sonnet calms the sun into sleep.

I’m an artist of the lost who found forgiveness in the night.

In the solace of self, I will carve out my light.

This dualist perception, like a path, rarely seen.

Where blackness brings comfort. Where silence can scream.

From divinity within bringing strength when I'm alone.

In the dead of the Night, I force my light to be shown.

Darkness, it lives to let divine truth confess.

In the quiet of the void, lifts my soul from my flesh.

Inspiring my spirit, with a message supreme.

"You're flaws are meant to be. Force your light to be seen."

I kneel to no man, but kneel alone beneath The Moon.

I've revived a dead light. I've defied a living tomb.

Reborn from my grave, as if the earth bore the womb.

I consume death itself, as men die to consume.

Derek 'Abraxas'