A little less than ComplicatedThe hour, past its tense.An arrow shot into the dense,eternity of a benign affection.False lightto stand my shadowwhere you pacethe clockand close to midnight,it's stays the same.we wither. we decaySynthetic,and monotoneexpressionto tear the absent fleshfacing, like nothingnesshad never been away.'chorus'Never said I love myselfwhen I stand my ground and its more than a littlefakeNever said I hate myselfwhen I drag me down and its more than a littlefakeNever said I lost myselfwhen I can't be found and its more than a littlefakeNever said I held myselfas I hit the ground and its more than a littlefake
They Yearn for Old Glory Her story, her emblem razed and former to glory's prone. Prominence, outstretched by the arm and lambent glow. She is sluice for their hordes and athirst, a gait so impressed upon them. Their endless attain, like freedom coursed will end in flame. Where is her promise earned, and into that destiny yarned; but a dream, aloft with fire brazed and all the way her pyre shone.
Faith around her FingerThe hollow, perfect circle.A ladies perceptionmoldinginfluence to spheremy will and consolidateher finger-blinding likemadness won't remember. I sank into my chestpounding regresslyto still my heartlike thedeepest drum.I cast wearily, and fecklessuponwrath so recklessas to kiss withoutwarning- deceit,now lashedits hollowtongueand cruelest featurelike her foollead,leant not a taste of his desire.
Global-Eyed-Nation Surveillance and world order. My ipseity.
The Winter Balladclaiming theskywas alabaster mist'sof many cloudsnowgathered graywhere wintertoiledatheavens frayfelled anearthO're frozenfearfrom silkenmesh to flurryfro'and gelidshanksthatweather cold an icy browfor whettedtearsand solstice weptinto theiryears
Love is a Memory I am the callus over your feme sole, where once we bed as lions. vestigial voraciousnostalgic is our clash to wrestle breath onto its knees and sleuthing lungs exahale the past, castratedwroththat sowthe airedacious when we roar. Audacious,now each candid ear whence whispers bathe of every liethan ever shallowed into tears.
Sunlight and Torpid Bliss.Carless nature. Pessimistic ofalabaster columns,tinctured into azures gradation and penumbra façades.Thoughtless as wings to strumthe vocal air,nor whim of its limbs.I care not about darkness aged onto the grass;Not for all the quiet hoursof a greyand thoughtless, memory.
The Pole of Two ExtremitiesI am allleft in meOurs. The sea. Died in its dream.I am whereyou left me shore unwanted of its memoriesas promises are meant to be.We could have had it alleternallyenthralled from that shit you called a heart fathomless and dark eternity to crawleternity that fall (break...)Let me find youlet me hold youlet me love youlet me kill youChorus: 2xLet us have the oceansLet drift an endless, past Let drown the shallow love of lies where once, I follow like guile, deep and endless fathoms-Made fools of the earth.break....... For lovenever meant to beWhere it ventured deepand held too tightlysmothered depths that dreamt so lightly, a darkest dream for abyss, shone brightly. I'll remain where you cannot be and breathe as you exhalethe final breathof what
Bordom has its Songtimeassortedits long hand shadowssoftand lapsebeside a gobbet of endless monotonoushymnsconditionwound by the steadywhirand puckered lip
LiarStriking designStunning, the messageOutrageous to the knowingUniquely colouredSuperb, the techniqueHilarious to the informedWisely composedSkilfully arrangedMaster of his ArtLiar.
DownfallAnd in this dark harvest of seasonMy life has completely lost reason,For which or against to decide.All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tideIn sadness and in kindnessIn light and in darkness.In a boat made of hopeI shall sail to tomorrow,In a winding hurricaneMade of treachery and sorrow.There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...Piercing, slashing though my head.Starting somewhere in heaven,Ending somewhere in hell.Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.Are the armies within.In my head they are all thrashing.On the heaven's and hell's whim.To be light or to be darkness.A perpetual array.It's not merely my choice,But the choice of the way.It's an option of the voice,It's a thin line of gray.Is it a choice forced by fate,Is it a pre-set time and date?Or a choice to which I myself sway?But here's our story anyway
."Nothing that I do will matter.As all things will merely shatter!"All my hopes thus darkness scatter,As it shoves me a decree.As it si
TakenIt was just a strategic readjustment.It was just a necessary tactical move.It was just your finger moving half an inch leftand curling slightly.It was just the centimeter or two of differencebetween the moment that just was,and the one that is,but you reached for my handand you took my heart.
I think of youAs suns set afar and mountains flameAnd eagles, turning, turn to fireAsh cold, alone I lieAnd think of you.
All Hallows EveThey say that on this night the witches ride,that spirits walk and churchyards spew their dead. It isn’t true. It’s said the stench of hell infects the earthand healths of heated blood are downed. But Hamlet lied. The dead know nothing, the living less. There are only poets with blood-nibbed pens;souls hung between high heaven and deep hell.
SapiosexualI don’t know what I’ll dowhen the first fistfulof dirt hits the bottom.Maybe I’ll follow you to the grave.Or maybe I’ll prayfor a zombie apocalypse,so we can dine on eachother’s brains one more time.
powerless, and reaching."He's the kind of personwho tells me to 'cheer up'when I'm depressed,"he says, scoffing,and I shake my headand say,"What a useless comment."He chuckles, agrees,but I keep thinking abouthim,about all the "cheer up"sand "just be happy"s he's heard in his life.I want to say "cheer up,"I want my words to magicallycure him, heal him, crush his depressionin a way that no pills ever could,but I know it doesn't work like that.Happiness is not an itemto be obtained with quartersand coupons,it is not a country to travel toin airplanes and sailboats.Happiness is a change in the wind,a flicker from east to westthat cannot be upheld permanently.For him, it is a roadblocked by people who roll their eyesand tell him to get over himself.When I wrap my arms around him,he laughs again,sinks into my body.I think about hollow rooms,sound echoing off the walls.
alcohol and words sometimes mixHe said good night because he couldn’t say goodbye.It was one of those times when his tongue was an anger,his insides an outburst of words and every particle of the universehe has inside him. He was fourteen when he made the excuse it was probably the overwhelmof being anti-poetic and Shakespeareanat the same time that robbed his voice box of his voice. He’s twenty-three now,taller with his own share of metaphoric broken bones and drunken one-night stands but none the wiser on the starshe keeps wishing on. There are two things you can have when you’re afraid:courage or more fear. And he realised with a smirk and a pitfall in his stomach,that he’d been allowing himself to ride more on the latter.But yes, he loved her very much.He just got too drunkon the poesy of unrequited love.
Not My Kind of Fairy TaleDon't give me the KnightWhose armor shines so bright.Give me the Knight,Whose armor is dull and broken.Whose horse is weary,Whose heart is heavy.Give me the Knight who looks at the dragon with pity,For that dragon has done nothing,And is just as imprisoned as the princess he guards.Don't give me a princess who only wishes to be saved,By that Knight whose armor shines so bright.Give me the princess who wishes to escape yes,But wants to free the dragon,Who does not wish to marry her savior--Nay, give me the princess who wants to explore,Who wants to live and to learn.For the years of imprisonment only made her yearn,Not for the Knight whose armor shines bright,But to see the world and live in the light.Do not give me the evil dragon,Whose soul purpose is to give that bright Knight something to fight.No, give me the dragon who is weary,Who longs for the freedom of the sky,Whose leg is burdened with chains,And whose heart aches for the princess he must guard,Lest h
A White Wedding Your flowing gown ofWhite Lies.