my song hymn

rejected modern prophets

kids who’ve taken a vow of silence, eyes bloodshot and throat straining with the weight of prophecy, shunned even by the burdened. charcoal-dirtied fingers and sheets and sheets of doom, destruction, deliverance. their blood collecting under the unbroken skin of their cheeks, results of fist fights with unbelievers, attempts at accommodating omens on their skin like divine Rorschach inkblots for those who look long enough. 

kids with hand-ravaged hair and ancient tear stains wrapping their arms around themselves, whispering, whispering, whispering. hodu l'Adonai. their hymns on the wall aren’t vandalism, not blasphemy though written in blood, they’d like to tell you. but unlike the prophets of long ago, their gratitude has failed them, and so they remain silent. 

anonymous asked:

Hi, here's a fun fact, the song "Touch Me" off the Spring Awakening soundtrack came on while I was reading the steamy part of your fic and it ruined my life. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the musical but with lines such as, "Touch me, tell me please, all is forgiven" playing simultaneously as I read the scene, I was ready to combust.

oh. my. goodness. “Touch Me” is actually the single most Jared/Evan song I have ever experienced! I love that so, so much, especially because I normally listen to Spring Awakening while writing the fic!! Thank you so much for sharing, that just made my day, you’re absolutely amazing!! <3 <3

who could love me
with your teeth in my neck and
your fingers imprinting lovenotes
in my spine like song hymns

who could love me
with your words sticking out of me
like glass shards and
your actions beating me down
like rain water destroys mountains

who could love me
when i fall asleep to your voice
and wake up with your thoughts
in my head, look in the mirror
and all i see is ugly
because all i see is you

—  who could love me when all i am is a product of your mistakes
Homeric Hymn XXI - Apollon

[1] Phoebus, of you even the swan sings with clear voice to the beating of his wings, as he alights upon the bank by the eddying river Peneus; and of you the sweet-tongued minstrel, holding his high-pitched lyre, always sings both first and last. And so hail to you, lord! I seek your favour with my song.

Medley- Je N'en Connais Pas La Fin - Hymne à L'amour
Jeff Buckley
Medley- Je N'en Connais Pas La Fin - Hymne à L'amour

Jeff Buckley | Je N'en Connais Pas la fin /Hymne à L'amour,  live at “The Bataclan”, Paris (February 11, 1995)

Homeric Hymn XXIV - Hestia

[1] Hestia, you who tend the holy house of the lord Apollo, the Far-shooter at goodly Pytho, with soft oil dripping ever from your locks, come now into this house, come, having one mind with Zeus the all-wise – draw near, and withal bestow grace upon my song.


Stir within my heart a love that’s real,
a love that’s true, a love to keep

Call my name with one loud voice,
so I may hear, that I may know
When this burden is far too much to carry,
and I have fallen in too deep
Make firm your grasp upon my life,
take my faded faith and make it grow

Stir within my heart a love that’s real,
a love that’s true, a love that’s wide

So when these legs of mine grow weary
and my feet begin to stumble
Keep me fixed upon your path
and use your hands to gently guide
There is no fear within your love,
for it is kind and it is humble

Stir within my heart a love that’s real,
a love that’s true, a love complete

In this barren heart please build a home,
claim my fear and make it grace
Take this life and call it yours,
I lay it all upon your feet
I need you Lord, to hold me close,
and hold me tight, in your embrace

Brie •redemption song•

φοῖβε, σὲ μὲν καὶ κύκνος ὑπὸ πτερύγων λίγ᾽ ἀείδει,
ὄχθῃ ἐπιθρώσκων ποταμὸν πάρα δινήεντα,
Πηνειόν: σὲ δ᾽ ἀοιδὸς ἔχων φόρμιγγα λίγειαν
ἡδυεπὴς πρῶτόν τε καὶ ὕστατον αἰὲν ἀείδει.
καὶ σὺ μὲν οὕτω χαῖρε, ἄναξ, ἵλαμαι δέ σ᾽ ἀοιδῇ.
o Phoebos, even the pure-voiced swan on the wing sings of you,
leaping upon the bank beside the whirling river
Peneios; and of you the sweet-singing bard
with clear-sounding phorminx always sings first and last.
Hail to you then, lord: may I please you with my song.
—  Homeric Hymn to Apollo