The Diary of a Broken Soul tarot deck was forged by esoteric artist Ash Abdullah, kicking off Ash’s transformation into a highly skilled tattoo artist. Published in 2009, the deck took 2-3 years to be realized. The black and white cards were mainly illustrated using ink, charcoal, and white highlights from pens and white out.
Tarotsmith.com delivers free online tarot reading with the Diary of a Broken Soul and other decks created with a primary focus on esoteric and occult symbolism. Diary also has its own page dedicated to free tarot card reading. And if you’re not familiar with the cards yet, you can always study the deck structure and card meanings right here on DiaryofaBrokenSoul.com.
Diary of a Broken Soul Tarot Reading on Tarotsmith.com *
|*||The complete Diary of a Broken Soul differs from the Majors-Only deck in that a few cards were redesigned for the final, full release.|
The album Imagination Lost by Edmund Welles features Diary’s 8 of Cups on the cover art.
Just as you believe you have ascended to the plane of true insight, your eyes are opened wide
All around you here you see aspects and facets of yourself, the existence of which for years you have denied
Having got this far, let us present you with your choices, including those of turning back or following through
Any decision you make is to take into account something precious you own – free will, and in that my friend, lies an important clue
Nobody will interfere with what you do, or guide you as to which path you should follow
Any word or deed originating from you, will either be taken up by the light or absorbed to become shadow
Many have gone before you, and we have no doubt there will be many more whose time will come
All believing as humans they have the monopoly on traits they see as valuable, including those of compassion and wisdom
Well, here in Janaham, us natives know otherwise – we see the effects of the wars caused by man, and the fall out which then ensues
Actions which could be so different to bring about change, but sadly, instead are twisted and distorted with the intent being only of abuse
I hope your visit will bring about change, both in you and in how you affect the world around you on your return
Telling your kith and kin that although they may come to believe they know everything, there is in fact so much they have yet to learn
Some day change across the landscape will be permanent, but time will need to pass before that becomes the norm
Yesterday will be but just a memory, with the heartache and guilt being washed away by the destructive but cleansing storm
Only you can take that message back, so a great weight of responsibility may be your destined cross to bear
Until such time you do return please enjoy your stay with us, and give of yourself to our guiding love and care
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Poetry for The Diary is a journal into Jahanam; 78 secrets of the soul kept hidden from prying eyes.
A compilation of songs sung by The Fool as he/she embarks into the inner sanctum of the self; divine comedy inspired by life to celebrate the art of living.
Here are the songs of the soul as it makes its way home;
It is written for those who came before me;
It is written for those who will come after me;
Here is a tale of 2 worlds; the shadow of the first cast upon the 2nd.
A wraith walking amongst men, a ghost haunting these crumbling walls. A face in a sea of faces, fading from sight.
With nothing to mark its passing, save for the echo… of a name long forgotten by man.
In-between heartbeats, that’s my favorite moment….
Its when Kings are banished from their kingdoms;
And clerics rise to the throne;
Its when loneliness creeps into the wounded heart;
And Lovers will part ways forever;
Its when the Heir to the Throne is shamed before the people;
And he is driven from the castle walls like a wolf hunted by hunters;
Its when the proud Queen Jezebel puts on her jeweled mask;
And plays demon goddess… secret lover to the wicked serpent;
All the roles turned upside down in the space of a heartbeat;
And the world will crumble like dust under absolute anarchy;
Our hearts will thunder like a million war drums beneath the bloodied sky;
Buckling under the pressure within its wounded, velvet chamber;
And we’ll look up to the heavens, just in time to see the Fool fall from grace.
The taint remains though none will speak of it; to save our brethren from their shame.
I have liquid fire burning away the lies;
Watch me die, then watch me rise;
For sacred desires are wasted amongst the unwise;
Let moderation weave sapphire silk with amber tainted sunrise.
I have ribbons of cool blue water and fiery red flames to untie;
A million vivid colors to visually tease the eye;
For twisted desires are cloaked beneath a cleverly painted disguise;
Let the tapestry unfold before the Lord of the Fireflies.
Silence was once my beloved companion, now it feels like winter and my bones have turned brittle from the cold.
My thoughts are poisoned; I am my own destruction, I am my own murderer, I have slayed all the demons only to find they will not die as long as I breathe.
Do you know what it feels like to know that the enemy is none other than yourself? …
In need of solitude, I am drifting away from all that is skewed;
Watching the naked flame dance to a rhythm that is erotically lewd;
I really don’t care what your opinions include;
As long as you ensure they do not intrude.
What do stars do but shine in all its glory?
Secrets etched upon the universe telling us a story;
Gaze upon its beauty for it is nothing less than a fading memory;
Let us make a wish upon a falling star, that it may take away our fury.
What do stars do but shine in all its glory?
Stories kept by the universe written upon a celestial diary;
We pick diamond dust off the black velvet sky to remind us of our story;
Let us make a wish upon a dying star, that it may heal the broken and the weary.
4 of Clubs
I have walked these barren lands in search of the desolate one;
I have seen the skies raining crimson tears and abandoned homes standing like white-washed bone;
I have seen angels by the millions plunging to the ground like wounded falcons;
I have seen demons with bloodied broken wings telling tales of lost idols and mythical icons;
I have seen it all yet I have never seen the face of the elusive ONE;
Yet I swear I have faithfully followed all the lies told to me by the ageless old crone;
Too many promises made to me and broken three times over;
I would gladly stay if I decide to surrender;
But if I were you… I would never say never;
Even if the path ahead lies torn asunder.
6 of Spades
There is a place where burning cards fall;
Like leaves of fire lighting up after nightfall;
But in a place where the burning cards fall;
You cannot turn back past the crumbling wall.
Is this a dream from which I cannot awaken;
All the roads before me seem already broken;
Its when one can no longer hear even when one listens;
Its when all the voices sound nothing like songs from heaven.
I’ve seen the shadows of those who were lost;
As I walk upon this bridge of silver crisscrossed frost;
To stay at the edge of the abyss comes at a cost;
It is like watching Eden burn as one of the holy ghost.
Page of Spades
I write what lies hidden in the heart;
Words craftily replaced by riddle-ridden art;
Most would take me for a young, foolish upstart;
Though it feels like eons weigh heavily upon my heart.
I write what lies hidden from the naked eye;
Etch everything I’ve seen before I say goodbye;
Most would find me anything but shy;
Though it feels like tears flow too easily from my eyes.
5 of Hearts
I am a walking, talking contradiction; the divine child of endless dualities… precariously close to falling off the edge.
To have everything in the palm of my hand and watch it slowly wash away… too many times I have had my mind give way, all the pain and hurt hidden behind false, forced laughter.
I laugh in the in face of the storm that rips my world asunder.. ’tis like listening to the voice within whisper against the sound of roaring thunder.
I will walk down this dark and beaten path… I wish to see what I have not seen before, I wish to leave my mark upon the bark of an old and dying tree so that you may follow me.
I can do no more, I can do no less… I will give up everything just to believe that I am more than what I appear to be.
Page of Hearts
Tiger Lily,that’s her name.
Wandering through a maze of liquid gold in search of god knows what.
Dreams are made up of little pieces of heaven torn from the heart.
Do we know what we are looking for?
To fill the void, to make us happy, to live happily ever after forever and ever.
Beneath the lilac moon lies our holy grail; and the soul thrives on such delight.
There is sweet seduction in all things forbidden;
Secrets buried in your beating heart, deeply hidden;
I know what resides in there even if you do not;
For I am the voice that lays out your inner plot;
So I’ll play the harp-strings to your heart;
Wondering when you will fall apart;
But it is not my promises that will entice you;
It may be your own desire turned against you;
So hold no grudge against me, friend;
From the moment that we met, you knew me for a fiend.
10 of Spades
There’s no respite from the hauntings of my past;
Wicked, jagged blades leaving scars from self-destructive rust;
I’m spinning a yarn that will stop only when I am dead;
I can hear the constant humming of the wheel as it turns in my head;
Its like being in like a movie that just won’t end;
I wish there was a way to kill the pain;
I wish there was a way to wash this history right down the drain.
Knight of Spades
I write what lies hidden in the heart; words craftily encrypted with riddle-ridden messages…
I am an unknown therefore unheard of; therein lies the enigma…
Sexy narcissism versus sadomasochism; why choose between hedonistic gratification or altruistic deprivation…
I’ll taste the forbidden fruit simply because it was offered…
And I’ll make no excuses for all of my trespasses …
For I am a rogue both in love and in lust…
Perhaps we are kindred spirits grown tired of endless mind games…
Or just old friends from another lifetime…
Whatever the case may be, why ask why when it matters not at all.
The Hanged One
There is an old story that spoke about creation; how the gods of ancient times spun music the way a spider spins its web.
Weaving golden threads of light and sound, they formed the universe; sprinkling star dust across a vast canvas that was once pitch black. Then they took a tiny part of their essence and breathed life into it; and their essence grew in multitudes.
The songs sung by the ancient gods soared across the Universe for they took delight in their creation. They did not cover the blackness entirely when they saw how darkness brought out the brilliance of their light; like jewels sparkling against black velvet.
But that was in the beginning; and much has happened since. We will not speak of all that has come to pass for nothing stays the same… not even the songs that now hold this world together. Tears shed yesterday are like tranquilizers to an agitated heart pleading to be cut wide open; and once crystallized, they hang upon the walls of our memory to remind us we are alive.
There is light in you and I; in equal measure there is darkness that seem to overwhelm at times… yet it does not. Good and evil are for dogs and children, a friend told me once and I delighted in that phase for it made me laugh.
On nights when I cease to hear the beating of my heart; I will listen to the Prophet who hangs by a single silver thread. From light and sound, he weaves a tapestry about children much like you and I; we who were long abandoned by the gods.
I wish only to show you the invisible made visible for I can see what is hidden from the naked eye. I can imagine all the things that are written in the stars for that is where our secrets are kept. In the darkness of the darkest night, in a trace-like state; I’ll see a jewel burning bright… a deity so imperfect in his own beauty, he rises above all else.