So sick of me
being sick of you
being sick of us
and all the things we do
Now listen, baby...
     baby
Wish it were all made up
nothing but a dream
living like a ghost
nothing's what it seems
I'm going crazy...
     baby
Want to forget the truth
starting with your name
and all the things you said
nothing but a game
Everything you're saying...
     baby
Everything I said
once upon a time
was what I believed
now its just a crime
Hope you're realizing...
     baby
These are all just tears
falling from my life
'cuz there was a day
I'd 've made you a wife
Heart's lamenting...
     baby
Gotta fix my life
gonna start right here
throw away these pictures
and crack me a beer
*Erase your memory...
     baby

I am the slayer of the shadows
Conqueror of the Night
I wield the sword of the Suns
and I cast upon the grounds
the tormentors of fright.
But it seems the the dark has the upper hand
for this world needs more heroes like me
I alone fight as hard as I can
but the brighter I shine in this land
the stronger the shadows I can see
For every darkness that I defeat
in the name of a thousand suns
The blacker the world becomes.
If there were other heroes like myself
wielding the sword of truth, justice, and light
than there will be no place for the dark to hide
and the world would be a free of evil and hate
But alas, I fear that heroes are few and far between
And I should lay down my sword, for without my light
there would be nothing to fear, as there would be nothing to fight.

So there once was a rut
that a simple mind did make.
But has the mind grew stronger
It realized that it was stuck.
There once was a well
where the mind drank inspiration.
But the well has since dried up
and creativity the drought did quell

...and upon seeing her ragged clothing
he di'th proclaim, "Alas,
young *****, maiden of America's blood,
where be your books, or the flame and torch?
I'd known thee face anywhere, and avas',
I'd known ye father to be wealthy, of course!"
And with shame in her eye, she took a gander
up the street and then back down, befor'a reply,
"My stars are gone, and my stripes been forsaken,
father has taken innocents and turned them'a slander."
With a glance that appeared to the man to be a plea,
she nervously turned to him with a hoarse whisper,
"Upon these streets I've been cast, shamefully a *****.
Men in suits take my food, and the men of fame keep me cloaked.
The men who speak news on'a radio fill my ears with promise,
and the teacher at the school house fills my head with old lore.
The preacher speaks of God as I stand naked before him
and the peasants throw rocks by direction of a crooked shamus."
The man, with a tear in his eye, reached down from his station
grabbed the ***** hand draped in chains, and with a gentle tug
pulled her up into heaven, lit white with undieing salvation
And he cried, "You're safe here child, free of a crippling nation.
Safe from corrupt companies and celebrity endorsed robbery,
News mutely broadcasted by a governmental eye,
Mind numbing words of public teaching,
ungodly men of unenforced preaching,
And the long arm's short-sighted snobbery."
And with an Eagle's cry and the ringing of the cracked bell,
Libertas stood up and proclaimed, "Only when my child is unbroken,
Shall all men again be free! Let these be my last words spoken!"

Deep in the woods, where the lazy creek bends
is a clearing where a solemn manor stands
Wind worn bricks now a rustic brown
are tinted red in the mid-morn lown
At the bend where the water trickles so slow
a single tree stands, shading the suns glow
Its mid-autumn colors match the manor walls
as we sit beneath and watch their gentle falls
A cool breeze blows, swaying the tall green grass
rippling, like a stone tossed in a lake, with each gentle pass
Moving enough to brush back your summer hair
revealing a face so beautiful and fair

Strange, really
How there's no warning to the faucet
Or which words holding the trigger
will suddenly appear and show its face
O' words, how violent you are
There was a time when I looked forward
to the curvy letters of your body
stretching across the plain plane
Turning a white empty line to colorful inspiration
With words like love, happiness, and joy
given to me by thou, giddy and gay
But now I see,
That words were used as weapon
Violently beating upon my soul,
Drummer or Gunner, the effect the same
Ringing ears and burnt eyes from you letters
Using this canvas as a carnival of hurt
Using words such as Hate, Anger, Sorrow
Their dangerous curves bringing with a terrible allure
But I can asure
That I too can wield these weapons
Twin hilted swords of Fruitless and Revenge
Double barreled Pain and Failure
and the ones that shot me down from the skies
The cannons of Hate and Anger.
I however,
Tired and beat down
Love licking my wounds
Sleeping joy of memories past
Keep me from retaliation.
I love your letters, But I hate you Words
Without letters you are useless
But without words, I'm speechless
O' how I hate thee, cruel words
Strange, really

What is a Jent?
It could be a gent, but alas
It is far from refined.
Is it feverishly loud?
Does it make a sound?
Well no, it doesn't so
Silent does make a Jent
Although, they still make a point
to show they're 'eaven sent.
A Jent is likely to throw away
the pretty flowers you sent,
with not so much as a smile
or a whiff of the wafting scent.
A Jent is nice to your face,
but don't turn your back
Because in their hearts are a dent
and they are resilient and bent
to make a scene and cause a cry in any place.
And never lend a penny to a Jent
For before you can say 'Heaven sent a bent gent'
He'll take your money and before you know
He's showing off all the pennies spent.
And when you ask for'a re-pay
He'll scoff and silently say
He needs it for gas or he has to pay rent
Be on the look-out for this Jent
Jerks, and silent they are
Take the money you lent
and insult your dress in one breath
So if confronted by a Jent
just tell him to stay pent,
forget his rent, he can sleep in the tent
for he is not 'eaven sent
and he'll deserve what he gets.