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  Jun 2014 Jacob Daniel Ellinger
Lydia
I turn off all the lights
And lock all the doors
By myself now
It no longer makes me jump
When every footstep in the dark is my own
And I know that
I braid my own hair
And make my own bed
In the blackness
Pierced by hopeful glows
Of charging lights
Or connected to Wi-Fi notifications
I don't want to go to sleep
Because I will wake up soon
Some nights I should wake up screaming
But I know what nightmares feel like
Please comment :)
The story of The Viper and The Mountain, is a sad tale to tell,
but it's really quite a story so listen very well.

There The Mountain was, armor clad and tall.
Before him many men had stood, but every one did fall.
But then a Viper came a calling.
"revenge" he said "revenge"
for the mountain had slew his sister, it was her he meant to avenge.

The Viper stabbed the The Mountains sore, right in his mighty chest.
and so The Mountain fell like any other wall of flesh.

The Viper was a quick man, though not quite that wise,  so blind was he by revenge The Mountain caught him by surprise.
The Mountain grabbed The Viper's head, and crushed it like a grape,
And so it was The Viper died, never to avenge his sisters ****.

A sad song to be sure, a gruesome tale indeed,
so lets raise our glasses high and forget it over mead.
The south wind blows gentle,
June winds I long for have come.
the suns heat is soft
because why the hell not.
A tempest strung like so many small sick men, would never hold water,
were the eyes of ants to open,
and the mouths of the dead to speak.

Yet find, I dare you!
one person bigger then a mote,

and I will show you more ants
then can be counted.

It is not for lack of men and women with a tree amongst the bones of the chest that keep birds from singing;
but the greater number of def lambs and earless worms.

A word can be spoken in a white castle,
set on a mountain made of sand,
through a billion
empty
windows


and they call it truth.

And yet,
at the bottom of the largest ocean man has made,
these words ring truer,
yet more silent,
then where all men must go.
The tempest is the feeling that my government is too powerful to stop.

Small sick men describe the people in power.

The ants with the eyes closed and the dead describe those that refuse to admit there is anything wrong and are content to live there daily lives working day in and day out as if nothing is wrong.

The men and women with trees in there chest are those that have grown a back bone. they stand up against what is wrong with this country.

The birds represent change.

The white castle is the White-House in Washington .

The mouton made of sand represents the instability of our country with the idea that a single wave could wash it away.

The empty windows represent the televisions in every home.

The sea that man has made represents the internet.

The phrase "where all men must go" describes the ultimate fate of men.
Your glistening skin,
the soft of your kiss,
the eye's of a goddess who's smile I do miss.


Your masterful skill,
the strength of your arm,
the path you chose to keep people from harm.

Wake me my dear, come safely home,
wake me my dear from being alone.

Wherever you go . . .
Wherever you are . .
Know my dear lady; that my love is not far. . .

When bullets are flying, my prayers do too.
When bombs are falling, I'm praying for you.
When the suns heat seems too hard to bare;
know this my love I wish I was their.

Though I am safe, and though I am home,
I'm lost and afraid, and so very alone.
I pray for you daily, I pray for you nightly,
And when dreams come it's of holding you tightly.

Come home safely for my sake.
Wake me from this dream of being awake.
want to hear it sung? https://soundcloud.com/jacobelinger/a-lovers-prayer
Action may speak louder then words but words can inspire action.
I wonder which is more powerful?
I say words; for words can be spoken by the weak to defeat the strong, the happy to lift up the sad  
But no one ever heard of the week overcoming the strong by strength alone  nor the sword bring happiness to the sad.
But then again is not speaking an action? sometimes speaking out is the hardest thing . . .
Rocks; these are my rocks.
Sediments: make me sedimental.
Smooth and round, asleep in the ground.
Shades of brown and gray abound.
~Maud Pie
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