We see it
As a victory
Of the human spirit,
Tales of glory
That makes us proud.
But it’s a pity
She’s denuded bare,
Ravaged her virginity,
And up there
There’s a crowd.
The height is made to pale,
They’re dwarfing the peak,
Adventurers on glory’s trail
Litter the path they scale.
We take it as a test
Of man’s superior might
That would not rest
Till it scales the greatest height.
But the mountain is no more clean,
Tons of wastes scar its air,
She’s turned into a dustbin
By the crowd going up there.
Should we feel proud,
And not hear the warning bell,
As the mountain is trodden like hell
By the mindlessly adventuring crowd?
From a land far away in a long lost time,
So far in the past that no one can find,
Deep in the forests of ash and of oak
Lived an old man that the elders had spoke.
Ageless this man, though ancient he was,
Told stories of the time that once was;
Stories of love, stories of war,
Stories of greed and so much more.
He would tell his old tales to young and to old
Every night by firelight whether t'was hot t'was or cold.
To those who would come he would delight
With lore of lives past or lore from last night.
But of what he did tell where a few gems,
Chronicles of a man whose life had once been.
This man in the stories in which he did speak
Lived in the hearts of both strong and of weak.
So now as I relay these timeless old tales,
Imagine a time when dragons did sail.
An age of brave knights, of kings and of queens,
Of magical realms and things left unseen.
When warriors fought valiantly with weapons of steel,
And peasants to royalty would bow and would kneel
Enter this lost medieval land
Buried beneath time’s own sand…
And sit a spell, let me tell this story that I know so well…
He thought I wrote of fairy tales.
Tales of temptation that would lead to his downfall.
If only he saw that the tales were true and I
Never promised perfect
I never wrote of it either.
I wrote of my passion, and of my pain
Just showing how I felt
I never expected him to feel some type of way
He flirted with my fairy tale
But he was timid with the temptation
He feared the mess our now could make
How it could change, interfere, and influence his forever
Although he triggered it all
He pulled me in for the first kiss
He was his own downfall
When was the last time I saw you?
We've been long overdue
Losing our time to talk with each other
You've been locked up by your mother
I wonder what girl I’ll be talking to
It sometimes felt old and new
I guess I deserve the bad side
Our love, we shared had died
What can I do but listen to the pain?
I’ve never felt so much shame
Maybe if I write you one happy story
You’d feel a little bundle of glory
Recognizing the good I can do
You never came to appreciate the new
I felt so alone and cold
Maybe happiness will help the old
Hoping one day you’d read it
Just feeling one ounce of bright lit
Sharing that old soft smile of yours again
I hope you enjoy the tales
I write these under tired pales
Endless nights of rewrites
Kind of like spiraling kites
Tangled up and floating away
Every day, day after day
I write a hundred words down
There is no better way for a fool and his crown
The truth is I write because of you
You never make feel so blue
I’ll sit here at these keyboards
Trying to hold onto all of these musical chords
This is my best way of showing I love you
But all of this will come to drown
This is just my wishful spirit typing these memories down
the rain washed down upon the faces
of the broken
irreparable and ruined
stories of heartbreak and loss behind
and the tales of a thousand sorrows
that will be hidden away for
with no hope of escape and the promise
of being taken to the grave
they are left to feed upon the
pure and beautiful souls and
leave behind nothing but a rotten mess
shattered minds, broken bones and hazardous souls
Sun coming up with my head over the lake
Breathing cold air in as last night fades
Split tales flip against blue sky
Trees of green shadow my eyes
My mind's troubles
ripple far from the shore
and I – hurt no more
She rambles on her guitar
Feet toes barely touching the water
Sounds and light flicker in space
She sings songs of “finding peace”
And my mind's trouble
ripples far from the shore
I - hurt no more
Couple of beers, shooting pool at the bar
Drinking with friends who don’t know who you are
Outside the night air is driftin’ off of the lake
Easy now to smell the coming of change
My mind's troubles
ripple far from the shore
and I - Hurt no More
Hear the waves crashing on the sand
my heart skips a beat when he grabs my hand.
Listen to you breathe lying next to me
Curled up close I begin to dream
[she even added the line at the end "Hear the waves crashing on the sand, My heart skips a beat when he grabs my hand"]
People are like the books
Some are easy
And as the book we love
Always at hand
Some we never open
Or try to understand
With some we share
The best of ourselves
Some remain forgotten
Like a dusty book on a shelf
You were my favorite book
Full of wisdom and beautiful tales
And when you died
You helped me to learn
To let go
The hardest lesson in life
You took a piece of my heart
Leaving behind a painful hole
Our time together left an imprint
Of love and gratitude on my soul
We shared happiness and joy
Heartaches and pains
But the lesson you taught me
In my heart remains
It's getting kinda old,
I'm drained and tired,
Worned out by your fights.
Your words always accepted,
While I bury mine unspoken.
The one sided fight,
Where the opponent is silent.
This isn't fair.
But fair doesn't exist.
Fair is a word that is created in fantasies,
Fair is a word spoken only in fairy tales.
I want this to stop.
We want this to stop.
Wait, don't you.....?
You don't speak the words,
But your actions strongly differ.
With every moment we spend together,
You explain to me the answer.
Why you treat me different now.
When nothing has really changed.
Your abhorring stares and frowns of detestation.
You tell me,
I don't belong here,
I took away your freedom.
I deserve to die.
You want me dead.
I've been told of love stories but what happened to all the mistakes made along the way?
Those stories of passion turned to regret...
Fondness turned to hatred....
What about being screwed over after being screwed?
Am I supposed to believe that fairy tales are all that exist when I observe what reality really is?
Fairy tales only serve the purpose of riling up kids to think that their Prince Charming exist but then they are broken down by reality. I think there is a type of Prince Charming that exists in reality....When you find a guy that meets more than your physical needs such as engaging you intellectually and emotionally....and respects you as a strong women that you are, then you have the right to call that guy your Prince Charming. It might be a distorted version then what you expected as a young girl but perhaps it is a better version.
tonight, i think i'll just watch as my world
falls to the ground.
a plastic band. a hope for observation.
they watch, they watch, oh, gods be good.
(just another one with daddy issues and
a slight stab in the dark at her own wrists.)
i was never much one for sanity, especially
when this is just another fever dream.
you play kiss and tell with saint peter and i
watch from mount olympus in shame. a goddess
is hardly the right word, but i am hardly the right girl.
doesn't every father hit his children? and other
cautionary tales from earth's own devil.
(desecrated be thy goddamn name.)
we're only pure in our idiosyncracies, only perfect
when we're told how to exist.
and though this heart is totally broken,
it could be all yours.
(i could be all yours.)