A good conversation is one never said
And the best place to go is in my own head

The more that I grow, the more that I find
With only myself can I have peace of mind

But sometimes I consider all that could be
If I found someone who was abstract like me

Passing by as we share the same thought
But as we are who we are, It is all for naught.

What worries the weapon more than peace?
That sheath that seeks to still its story.
When kings grow old and tire of schemes
And children dream no more of glory.

What becomes the warrior
When heroes live only in song?
When there is no one left to conquer
And every battle has been won.

When the wind no longer speaks of steel
And mountains have forgot our name.
When all that's left are memories
Of the fallen, Of the shame.

Worry not though for the blade.
Spare no thought toward the sword,

For peace shall fall to slumber.

War will wake once more.

Fingertips
In  doughnut jam
I licked my lips
And it began

You came up slowly from behind
And moved serenely to the side
I held my breath
And you did say
It’s for your soul
That I do pray  

The devil in
the machine

I heard the crowd roar
And then they clapped
And wanted more

Foolish games
Wicked spells
The youth I own
Had left as well

Now stand I
A foolish fellow
Who wishes
More than ever
That Id stayed mellow

But no I jumped up
Ready for battle
My armour made a mighty rattle

I saw you off
You I will slaughter
Now keep away from my daughter x