MercyWhisper and I will come to you
Raise your voice and I will come then, too
Seek refuge and find my warmth
Within my love, and nothing more
No less to love, no greater to hate
Rely on hope and trust in fate
Relax and breathe, an instinct to think
Of wants and needs and wonders and dreams
No fear at all, for all is I
And all you are, outside the mind
Begin to know the blasphemy
Like demons chasing after me
As a devil disguised as a god
But "god" is a synonym for "fraud"
Reality is yours to create
Happy or not, you hold a clean slate
R.I.P WordsDo you know what it feels like?:thumb271340882:
To feel something, but...
be unable to express what it is;
to be silent;
to fight it alone.
I know how much it hurts,
but I don't know how to show it.
Poetry used to be my refuge,
a place where I could be alone -
express all my emotions,
without being judged.
I'm losing it.
I can't connect to poetry.
Everything sounds so stupid...
Everything I write sounds stupid.
I have to erase all my feelings,
because they don't sound right.
The words aren't real.
They don't show what I feel
And maybe this will be the last.
Maybe I'm gone:
lost of all emotions.
I'm truly alone...
I used to have poetry.
Now I have nothing.
There was a time before Moria fellIn here rests a piece of Dwarven lore
about the purest vein of mithril ore
found deep within the rocky earth
not too far from its molten core
Down, down in to the depths we tilled
with desires of empty pockets to be filled
So far beneath our burning hearths
hauling up stone and gems to be milled
A blinding light then pierced the dark
"Cannot be real!" We thought, "Just a lark."
Falling hammers and chisels soon gave birth
The expectations soared beyond their mark
Its lustrous gleam of pale radiance
left us in an inescapable of trance
"Just look at this vein, look at its girth"
We dug till we could craft mithril pants
But shadows filled their gold laden hearts
and crimson fires flared through ancient arts
before they could proclaim an age of joy and mirth
The Balrog of Morgoth had come to play it's part
The cracking whip, its fires flared
A searing sword, Dwarves in cloven pairs
What could this vein possibly be worth?
We ran with tooth and nail up the layers
Some fled, many died but our
Driving LessonsSunday afternoon, July 15th:thumb345566881:
"So you mind telling me what happened again?"
"I was punching my father in the head when I managed to ram into the damn pole, okay?!"
"Why were you punching your father?"
"Because he is an idiot, all right?! If you had to handle his crap for the past nine years, you would wanna hit him, too!"
"Look, what happens in your family stays in your family, kid."
Isshin pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that even thought Ichigo respected the law, there was only so much of the police and their frustration he could handle. "Ichigo, call Yuzu and tell her we'll be late. I'll handle the rest of this."
Ichigo gave a look of pure joy at that before jogging away from the mess of police cars, an ambulance, and their ruined mini-van.
It had started out as a simple outing an hour earlier. Isshin treated Ichigo to a nice birthday lunch at his son's favorite Chinese place, Ichigo getting a rather cryptic (and strange, as far as he was concerned) fortune cooki
Soldier-boyGo on ahead little soldier-boy
make your mama proud.
Serving your country with loyalty,
your courage knows no bounds.
Keep your head up, soldier-boy,
a cold gun is in your fingers,
and although days have passed,
the memories will always linger.
Keep praying good ol' soldier-boy
as bombs paint across the sky.
Your friends are in a better place
no time for you to cry.
Don't stop moving my brave soldier-boy
the sun has not yet set
the enemy is closing in
one shot is all that's left.
Hold your breath scared soldier-boy
the fiends are at your tail
they'll hunt you down mercilessly
as your mission is marked 'fail'
Close your eyes dear soldier-boy
and pray up to your God.
The pain is building in your chest
and your vision is getting flawed.
It will be over soon sweet soldier-boy
as some bunker down and cry
the fight for you is over
some men were born to die.
Goodbye my brave soldier-boy
your life burned out like an ember.
Your sacrifice wasn't for naught.
And we will always remember.
role model [part 1]the sun shone bright on the jet black road:thumb346841640: :thumb338271988: :thumb350948503: :thumb350554967: :thumb349881179: :thumb261722824: :thumb316337500:
and the grass just off course was where i sat alone
admiring the world, wondering at the speeding cars
staying 'til after sunset, waiting to see the stars
but one single driver decided to change my plan
the truck stopped and out got, twice my age, a man
who seemed discontent, but still pleasant enough
terribly mad at the world, yet not labeled as such
with bright blue eyes behind sun-bleached hair
he couldn't help but match my mesmerized stare
he called me beautiful, and i called him quite nice
then heard myself agreeing to take an unexpected ride
cos, you can never foresee the strangers you'll meet.
before he was tying the rope 'round my wrists and feet
and then tossing me gently into the backseat,
i laughed and hoped he spoke the truth
when he said, "i'll make a model out of you."
so he drove some time, and we talked a bit
the world blurred to nothing, so intricate
colors fading from our eyes with the dying sun
golden blue to pink to purple,