Death's Little SacrificeSitting alone weak and wearyOn a dark night cold and drearyWaiting for the spirit of deathTo take away your final breath.You've spent too long doing crime,And now you've run out of time.You've done your deeds now you'll pay the price.Now, you'll be the sacrifice.Do you hear the spirit of death arrive?He knows this fate is for what you've strived.He'll bring you to the gates of HellWhere he'll perform the final spellTo set his legions upon the earth.Your life will be the apocalypse's birth.A splash of blood and a guilty soul.You've brought upon a future most foul.
ForeverYou asked mehow far I would gofor you but you never tookinto considerationthat the earth is round soI’ll end uprepeating myself.
the architecture of eggshellslet's talk aboutthe words we won't talk about.in the grey cube skybuses flow as quicksilver.orchestrated society--science.make a flowerwiltin frosted dew.giggle in rattlesuntil it diffusesinto disappointment.sigh in reliefat the lack of contactwith regret. friendsvia geography.a smashed duality.opposites attractthe ugly qualities.the most humane bombs.
the shadows beneath my eyes remind me of you.i got bored in class last friday,so i wrote a poem upon my hand,and when my teacher walked by he read it."that's deep," he said."i know," i told him,"i'm drowning."
Adulthood's HourglassWelcome to the twisted, corrupted paths of something called adulthoodWhere direction is entirely lost and the way cannot be understoodIf your education is the chain that weighs your body downThen your labor is the shackle that binds your body nowThe journey will be rough, but don’t look backForgiveness is lost on those who might lackIt’s time you prepare to make a choiceIn one you certainly won’t rejoiceRelease the dreams you plottedThey’re simply not allottedIn the land you’re to enterWhere work is the only centerThis black and white city of miseryA schedule fit so the strong grow wearyA country ruled by the king named MoneyWhose lies are fatal as poison, but sweet as honeyYes, here in the real world, your life is now controlledNow, listen to your new master, do everything as you’re toldUntil the time comes for you to take your leave of this cruel placeJust another pawn in this game of life, death will be your saving gra
Coming Home and Leaving HomeI often times wonder;Do you rememberThose days of old,My friend?When we used to layOn hills of greenAnd gold from wheat,When we laughed and yelledAnd raised glassesFor the enjoymentOf a simple life?Do you remember those times,My old friend?The days we spentFar from homeIn foreign lands,With brothersAt our shouldersAnd enemiesAt our front?Do you remember,My friend?When we raised glassesNot out of cheerBut in mourningFor our fallen brothers?Those days we layFar from thoseGreen hills of ours?We spoke oftenOf those days passed,For comfort and peace.We found restIn each other,In our brothers,And we made it home.But we no longerRaised glassesAs we used to,The wounds we boreToo deep to heal.Do you remember,My old friend,When you saidYou were leaving?You decided to set out,Leave for goodOur home andGreen hills.Do you rememberHow we held each otherAt the docks?I wanted you to stayAnd I could notGo along with you,Never did I thinkOur paths
will to be strongdoubtless,wooden hearts beat too --they're just ten times harderto shatter
His Gallifrey, Her EarthHe was born to be madman from sky with the bluest box ever,She was born in the bustling world of people rushing there-here,He knows all, he's a genius, he rushes in like a dagger,She left school and had losing her boyfriend as her hugest fear.Yes, his GallifreyAnd her Earth, that's true,Seem to be so different -Orange and blue,But there's something else,Something special too -There is matter in common...Maybe those two.He will know taste of chips while a date in the cafe of London,She will know different days - their patterns will not be the same.He'll get used to the friend who has totally difficult finding,She'll get used to the whooshing of engine which never gets tame.Yes, his GallifreyAnd her Earth, that's true,Seem to be so different -Orange and blue,But there's something else -There are things to do,Places to discoverAnd times for those two.He is nine hundred years old, but he looks like youngster - no lying,She is only nineteen and she's just a "small c
The Bone CrowNight. Wisps of whispers hollowSlink through lichen headstones.Ethereal, they beckon only you,For blind you are - Still you follow.Milk beak crooks, sallow skull,Atop chord-less spinal cordGlaring out the last flameOf dark and binding Samhain.Beads ebony; blisters in painBlinking from the void discordWhere death has no lifeAnd the living bear it no name.From without time and space within,Stands decrepit in unholy state,The bone crow - talons outspread:Etching out diabolic runes of sin.Echo blood snakes, rancid ribs,Shows warm intestinal wormsHiding the primordial fearsOf black and dangerous Samhain.Claws snowy; glitters with rainHeralds forth the inferno squirmsWhere demons take no wifeAnd the angels weep empty tears.To internal dawn before dusk eternal,Stalks egregious by deistic fate,The bone crow - feathers unthread:Alabaster blades risen love infernal.