For those looking for a skill:
For those looking for a laugh:
For those looking for compassion:
I've found a few things, but I'm still looking for love, happiness, friendship, understanding, contentment, joy, darkness, light, entertainment, the strange, the unique, and a few others. If you have any suggestions I would love them. Leave a comment.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Waking walk
in broken tower,
in misty manse,
in red corridors,
in dark expanse.
The boots they march,
with even thrum,
the walls shake softly,
to deep bass drum.
In eerie still,
we hear them stride,
with broken skin,
pale eyed.
And in primordial dread formed the broken corpsemen that haunt the nights of our darkest dreams, and walk in mindless drile through the shutter streets of towns of old. Armies on the march and dead men walk, lands a flame and lands to salt, the war cries "MORE" and blood falls again to the ground. Ground plant and trodden pup, children cowering in ruined sheds, mothers covering there children. The night men walk and prowl and wait for the one small child to be before them that they may take her, and free their dreams. in waking nightmare and sleeping terror she knows they come and fears them not, for to her they are friends long lost, and soon to be, they are part of her, and definition.
The night men walk,
and onward creep,
to plague your dreams,
and drink your sleep.
in misty manse,
in red corridors,
in dark expanse.
The boots they march,
with even thrum,
the walls shake softly,
to deep bass drum.
In eerie still,
we hear them stride,
with broken skin,
pale eyed.
And in primordial dread formed the broken corpsemen that haunt the nights of our darkest dreams, and walk in mindless drile through the shutter streets of towns of old. Armies on the march and dead men walk, lands a flame and lands to salt, the war cries "MORE" and blood falls again to the ground. Ground plant and trodden pup, children cowering in ruined sheds, mothers covering there children. The night men walk and prowl and wait for the one small child to be before them that they may take her, and free their dreams. in waking nightmare and sleeping terror she knows they come and fears them not, for to her they are friends long lost, and soon to be, they are part of her, and definition.
The night men walk,
and onward creep,
to plague your dreams,
and drink your sleep.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
demons and princes
The fire still burns
but now red as blood,
our wings are all clipped
boots covered in mud.
On we all walk,
the straps bound up tight,
forever grounded,
forever without flight.
In four hundred years,
the walls will all stand,
changed by their time,
but still ever so grand.
when I am ended,
perhaps then I will know,
why forever forsaken,
with no place to go.
While I clasp my spear tightly,
and peirce my friends' flesh,
some with sharp daggers,
with blood that's still fresh.
But who holds a weapon,
and simply cares,
who wants my blood,
and who holds me in prayers.
I know not for certain,
my place or my pride,
but I know now for reason
I care, and I've tried.
but now red as blood,
our wings are all clipped
boots covered in mud.
On we all walk,
the straps bound up tight,
forever grounded,
forever without flight.
In four hundred years,
the walls will all stand,
changed by their time,
but still ever so grand.
when I am ended,
perhaps then I will know,
why forever forsaken,
with no place to go.
While I clasp my spear tightly,
and peirce my friends' flesh,
some with sharp daggers,
with blood that's still fresh.
But who holds a weapon,
and simply cares,
who wants my blood,
and who holds me in prayers.
I know not for certain,
my place or my pride,
but I know now for reason
I care, and I've tried.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
hey, I may have discovered a fun new game
http://googleblog.blogspot.com/2005/09/googlebombing-failure.html
http://googleblog.blogspot.com/2005/09/googlebombing-failure.html
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)