Tell me what you think. Or.. not. Whatever.
----------
Nostalgia
If the art of warfare was only restricted to war
I would maybe live much longer.
But those days went past when we started locking our doors
And has forced me to become much stronger.
I think it better to live as sheep
It means not hurting those who can’t heal
It means not taking what I cannot keep;
And futures I will not steal.
But life like that is not worth living
There is no passion, zeal, or mirth.
A life bleeds dry yet still keeps giving;
We work, we die - we birth.
So I cast out my comfort and enter my hell
With a burdened soul and thoughts too big for my mind
And I hesitate to sigh, yet am quick to yell
In this place of madness what more can I find?
There is no more etiquette in the rules of conduct
There is no more hope in this age of dread
There is no peace in this - our construct.
There is no more life, So we're all dead.
bang.
-----------
Crushed hopes, Futile dreams
I made this with my own two hands
It doesn't do much, but look how it lies
so perfectly still.
I made this with you in mind;
Look at the detail
You done yet? Now look at the time.
I made this with only a little help
And while I can see all my flaws
You couldn't tell.
I made this with not a thought in my head;
Like a dummy possessed;
Like a man in hell.
I made this, but it also made me
A better young man
Worse for wear.
And when I made this I was quite surprised
All it took was nine months
But... this is no prize.
----------
Red Light Crossing
There are two ways this can end
And my heart pulls in the one direction.
The city lights block the radiance of the full moon
but they magnify yours. You simply outshine.
The cheap red lipstick unfit for your lips has faded
no doubt from your lover, or your dinner, or just because.
Your knee high boots do not cover up your torn stocking.
The sliver of smooth skin reveals enough. More than enough.
The wrinkles in your blouse are made more clear under the fake light of the street.
Passing cars illuminate your broken heel. You are an angel.
You wear your clothes like they were tailored for a queen
Nothing hangs off you; everything accentuates.
You pull on your cigarette. The ember burns like my heart.
You exhale a cloud of smoke. I know this because your chest writhes accordingly.
I make my first step toward the curb
A bus blocks the intersection for a moment. It is enough.
Light is pointless now
It illuminates only darkness.
There is nothing left, except the darkness.
Except the unfinished cigarette - ember extinguished.
---------
Just three. I'm not gonna go crazy or anything. Unless.. that's already too much. Oops.
----------
Nostalgia
If the art of warfare was only restricted to war
I would maybe live much longer.
But those days went past when we started locking our doors
And has forced me to become much stronger.
I think it better to live as sheep
It means not hurting those who can’t heal
It means not taking what I cannot keep;
And futures I will not steal.
But life like that is not worth living
There is no passion, zeal, or mirth.
A life bleeds dry yet still keeps giving;
We work, we die - we birth.
So I cast out my comfort and enter my hell
With a burdened soul and thoughts too big for my mind
And I hesitate to sigh, yet am quick to yell
In this place of madness what more can I find?
There is no more etiquette in the rules of conduct
There is no more hope in this age of dread
There is no peace in this - our construct.
There is no more life, So we're all dead.
bang.
-----------
Crushed hopes, Futile dreams
I made this with my own two hands
It doesn't do much, but look how it lies
so perfectly still.
I made this with you in mind;
Look at the detail
You done yet? Now look at the time.
I made this with only a little help
And while I can see all my flaws
You couldn't tell.
I made this with not a thought in my head;
Like a dummy possessed;
Like a man in hell.
I made this, but it also made me
A better young man
Worse for wear.
And when I made this I was quite surprised
All it took was nine months
But... this is no prize.
----------
Red Light Crossing
There are two ways this can end
And my heart pulls in the one direction.
The city lights block the radiance of the full moon
but they magnify yours. You simply outshine.
The cheap red lipstick unfit for your lips has faded
no doubt from your lover, or your dinner, or just because.
Your knee high boots do not cover up your torn stocking.
The sliver of smooth skin reveals enough. More than enough.
The wrinkles in your blouse are made more clear under the fake light of the street.
Passing cars illuminate your broken heel. You are an angel.
You wear your clothes like they were tailored for a queen
Nothing hangs off you; everything accentuates.
You pull on your cigarette. The ember burns like my heart.
You exhale a cloud of smoke. I know this because your chest writhes accordingly.
I make my first step toward the curb
A bus blocks the intersection for a moment. It is enough.
Light is pointless now
It illuminates only darkness.
There is nothing left, except the darkness.
Except the unfinished cigarette - ember extinguished.
---------
Just three. I'm not gonna go crazy or anything. Unless.. that's already too much. Oops.