I'm back.Even though, you people couldn't really care.
Right?
Yeww
Era Of DeathArise, Pillars of chaos, As we drink ourselves to decadence, And bathe in perpetual existence. Yet scarlet burns scar, Proving the shallowness of mortality, And the reality of being god.Era Of Death
On an eye, Where such consequences don't exist, To the mind,
This hierarchy is nothing but fascism. With the soul,
Democracy doesn't exist, we are not one. On an eye, Where dead maternity, finally get's its rest.
Burn deep, the hands of perdition, strike hard on the weak minded, And the fall of the such predicted mortal, Lands in the fires of
Those Three WordsThis was it, The intimate moment between Man and Woman, Where all sense of reality and grief is lost, Where all sense of pride and commitment, Flows out in one smooth motion, No regret, no turning back, These are the three words that will shape the way, This Man and Woman will live the rest of their lives, She looks him deep in the eyes and whispers softly, 'Hold my purse'Those Three Words
UnboundA poet is not bound to his quill and ink; What are mere reed and simple dark liquid To the mind and the soul which gives them life? A poem is not the sum of its lines and structures; Meter, stanza, rhyme… the sum of which Compare not to the feeling and conceit. Words have form but no function; Without men words hold no power For men define each word’s meaning. Techniques equate only to flattery; They are all show but no content Without men’s immortal substance. Thus each word carries no real meaning; Love, hate, sadness, joy… Each but wrappUnbound
Mermaid, Dark.Mystic Magick, forbidden secrets, murky depths, eyes that drown.Mermaid, Dark.
Cold breaths, pull you close, slow stares, dark surrounds.
Elegant looks, over fearful souls, evoking wonder, of what lies beneath.
Eyes spellbind, hold you and steal, all that you love, all that you feel.
'I stare into her eyes, what looks like drowning lies, Tears hold in the fear, for her life is drear.'
Of The ViolinistThis air, this air is cold And I’ve seen him persistently shiver Among all the clicks and clamor The small whispers of early morningOf The Violinist
His motive I cannot say But as the dawn rises So does his sound
Self assured in his movements In the soft motions of breath and string I, we can hear this calm, this cadence And wake up a tiny bit easier
His voice I cannot see But as the sky rains So does his music
In this cacophony of the day The sable case is set forth, pensive Perhaps hesitant for want of change Wa
Wow!
LOL brudda
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Hang your heart out on a limb
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"What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?"
"The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants."
-Two gravediggers, Hamlet, V.i.42-45
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Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch..
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Challenge my brute, Paul the Doll here ~ [link]
my stock account ~ [link]
Got talent.
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Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch..
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Hang your heart out on a limb
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