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 Mar 2014 Azrael-Always
Xyns
A broken home
A shattered family
A drifting soul
I'm lost in the journey

The shifting
The changing
The non-balance
I'm focused on the solution

My answer
My resolution
My damnation
I'm just waiting on Fate
 Mar 2014 Azrael-Always
Xyns
You think I'll be like you
You believe that I'll fall like you did
Well, You're wrong
I'll never be you
I'll never waste myself as you have

All those times you thought you helped
You were wrong
I clean up after you
I do damage control
You're only in my way
everything in me is ******* dying and all you're
doing is saying saying saying,
"are you okay."
do you even care
Imagine a high robotic voice
while reading this...
I WORK FOR THE MACHINE

HI!!! I'm a computer chip.
Yes! My brother's H.A.L.
Satan downloads to my brain,
But I am in control.

I am working for The B.E.A.S.T.
Big Brother's database.
Watch me take my orders.
Watch me interface.

I cannot get away now.
Hooked to the terminal.
I have lost all sense of self
And all my hope as well.

I am just a microchip
With no will of my own.
I am just a barcode
Made of flesh and bone.
Yes, I have been branded
On my forehead and my hand.
I gave my soul to Lucifer
I didn't understand...

I work for the anthill.
The anthill is my home.
I am the collective mind
I am just a drone.
I work for the anthill
Things aren't as they seem...
I work for the anthill.

I work for the Machine.


I will live much longer, yes.
I'm healthy, I'm not shy.
I will do as I am told
Although its all a lie.

The B.E.A.S.T. will take care of me
I will never want
I will follow to my death
Because I wear the MARK.

I will starve and persecute.
I will do it blind.
I hate all Believers
'Cause I don't have a mind.


I work for the anthill.
The anthill is my home.
I am the collective mind.
I am just a drone.
I work for the anthill.
I have lost my dream.
I work for the anthill...

I WORK FOR THE MACHINE.
The B.E.A.S.T.

B russels
E conomic
A counting
S ystems
T erminal
 Mar 2014 Azrael-Always
Danni
There are two places where I feel safe,
here, this very site,
and that room.

It's weird to say I feel safe in a room
such as that,
it's a classroom.

But it's the one of my hero,
so I guess it makes sense.
Right?

I don't know.
All I know is that when I'm in there,
like when I'm on here,
I want to spill everything.

I want to tell her of the
**** that wasn't ****,
but I know I shouldn't

because who wants to hear that?
And will I even have the guts
to use my vocal chords to say it?

Can I say it aloud?
I never even told her the real reason Kung Fu came to an end,
that ****** assault has been a common occurrence the past few years.

I can even see the awkwardness now.
She'd ask how it was but was not,
and I'd have to tell her how I let my innocence go, to an extent.
I said no ***,
but it went in,
his underwear being my savior.

I'll tell her how I'm leaving to the next tower,
because my roommate kicked me out,
even though she was the one who caused the problems.
I'll tell her that, no problem.

I'll tell her how my neighbors
are strangers who think they know me.
I'll tell her my excitement to leave all this.
I'll tell her that, no problem.

But how do I tell her of my assaulter?
I need to outwardly tell somebody,
and I need one of her hugs.
Maybe it'll slip out.

I want to tell her, though.
I want to tell a lot of people.
But do they want to hear it?
That's my question.

There are two places where I feel safe:
here,
and that classroom.
Where you want it, you won't find it,
Where you find it, you will return unbidden,
Hopelessly addicted
to the chemicals of connection.
Tentative mental kisses
Become heartfelt communion
Elusive and fleeting and forever.
Breathe it, live it, be it,
Love it, shape it, coax it gently into life.
Do not run from it, do not be afraid
to grasp and hold it, to let it overwhelm you,
Or, to let it go.
It may be gone in a moment, or
grow, and change,
It might live forever, or instantly die.
 Mar 2014 Azrael-Always
Danni
You told me over and over again,
even after you called it off after me,
you care for me deeply.

But tell me how that's so
if you tell me we'll talk tomorrow,
then have seven days pass

with only two messages
sent to you from me.
You read both.  I saw that.

Again,
Thanks for the text,
all of the ones you never sent.

Again,
Seriously, I did want to talk to you,
but now I don't know what I want.

You read these messages, I saw.
Twenty minutes later,
Read 7:27 PM

I send another,
four hours later,
Read 2:25 AM

Remember when you told me you cared?
And you had to convince me you were honest?
Good luck trying to do that again.

I won't let it happen.
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