A Tale

“Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full is this Buke.”
                              —Gawin Douglas.

When chapman billies leave the street,
And drouthy neebors neebors meet,
As market-days are wearing late,
An’ folk begin to tak’ the gate;
While we sit bousing at the *****,
An’ getting fou and unco happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps, and stiles,
That lie between us and our hame,
Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

This truth fand honest Tam o’Shanter,
As he frae Ayr ae night did canter,
(Auld Ayr, wham ne’er a town surpasses,
For honest men and bonie lasses).

O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise,
As ta’en thy ain wife Kate’s advice!
She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum,
A blethering, blustering, drunken blellum,
That frae November till October,
Ae market-day thou was nae sober;
That ilka melder, wi’ the miller,
Thou sat as lang as thou had siller;
That ev’ry naig was ca’d a shoe on,
The smith and thee gat roarin fou on;
That at the Lord’s house, ev’n on Sunday,
Thou drank wi’ Kirkton Jean till Monday.
She prophesied that, late or soon,
Thou would be found deep drowned in Doon;
Or catched wi’ warlocks in the mirk,
By Alloway’s auld haunted kirk.

Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet,
To think how mony counsels sweet,
How mony lengthened sage advices,
The husband frae the wife despises!

But to our tale: Ae market-night,
Tam had got planted unco right;
Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely,
Wi’ reaming swats, that drank divinely;
And at his elbow, Souter Johnny,
His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony;
Tam lo’ed him like a vera brither;
They had been fou for weeks thegither.
The night drave on wi’ sangs an’ clatter;
And aye the ale was growing better:
The landlady and Tam grew gracious,
Wi’ favours, secret, sweet, and precious:
The Souter tauld his queerest stories;
The landlord’s laugh was ready chorus:
The storm without might rair and rustle,
Tam did na mind the storm a whistle.

Care, mad to see a man sae happy,
E’en drowned himself amang the *****;
As bees flee hame wi’ lades o’ treasure,
The minutes winged their way wi’ pleasure:
Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,
O’er a’ the ills o’ life victorious!

But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flow’r, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white—then melts for ever;
Or like the borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place;
Or like the rainbow’s lovely form
Evanishing amid the storm.—
Nae man can tether time or tide;
The hour approaches Tam maun ride;
That hour, o’ night’s black arch the key-stane,
That dreary hour he mounts his beast in;
And sic a night he tak’s the road in,
As ne’er poor sinner was abroad in.

The wind blew as ‘twad blawn its last;
The rattling showers rose on the blast;
The speedy gleams the darkness swallowed;
Loud, deep, and lang the thunder bellowed:
That night, a child might understand,
The De’il had business on his hand.

Weel mounted on his grey mare, Meg,
A better never lifted leg,
Tam skelpit on thro’ dub and mire,
Despising wind, and rain, and fire;
Whiles holding fast his gude blue bonnet;
Whiles crooning o’er some auld Scots sonnet;
Whiles glow’rin round wi’ prudent cares,
Lest bogles catch him unawares;
Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh,
Whare ghaists and houlets nightly cry.

By this time he was cross the ford,
Whare in the snaw the chapman smoored;
And past the birks and meikle stane,
Whare drunken Charlie brak’s neck-bane;
And thro’ the whins, and by the cairn,
Whare hunters fand the murdered bairn;
And near the thorn, aboon the well,
Whare Mungo’s mither hanged hersel’.
Before him Doon pours all his floods;
The doubling storm roars thro’ the woods;
The lightnings flash from pole to pole;
Near and more near the thunders roll;
When, glimmering thro’ the groaning trees,
Kirk-Alloway seemed in a bleeze;
Thro’ ilka bore the beams were glancing;
And loud resounded mirth and dancing.

Inspiring bold John Barleycorn!
What dangers thou canst mak’ us scorn!
Wi’ tippenny, we fear nae evil;
Wi’ usquabae, we’ll face the devil!
The swats sae reamed in Tammie’s noddle,
Fair play, he cared na deils a boddle.
But Maggie stood right sair astonished,
Till, by the heel and hand admonished,
She ventured forward on the light;
And, wow! Tam saw an unco sight!
Warlocks and witches in a dance;
Nae cotillion, brent new frae France,
But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels,
Put life and mettle in their heels.
A winnock-bunker in the east,
There sat auld Nick, in shape o’ beast;
A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large,
To gie them music was his charge:
He ******* the pipes and gart them skirl,
Till roof and rafters a’ did dirl.—
Coffins stood round, like open presses,
That shawed the Dead in their last dresses;
And by some devilish cantraip sleight
Each in its cauld hand held a light,
By which heroic Tam was able
To note upon the haly table,
A murderer’s banes in gibbet-airns;
Twa span-lang, wee, unchristened bairns;
A thief, new-cutted frae a ****,
Wi’ his last gasp his gab did gape;
Five tomahawks, wi’ blude red-rusted;
Five scimitars, wi’ ****** crusted;
A garter, which a babe had strangled;
A knife, a father’s throat had mangled,
Whom his ain son o’ life bereft,
The grey hairs yet stack to the heft;
Wi’ mair of horrible and awfu’,
Which even to name *** be unlawfu’.

As Tammie glowered, amazed and curious,
The mirth and fun grew fast and furious:
The Piper loud and louder blew;
The dancers quick and quicker flew;
They reeled, they set, they crossed, they cleekit,
Till ilka carlin swat and reekit,
And coost her duddies to the wark,
And linket at it in her sark!

Now Tam, O Tam! had they been queans,
A’ plump and strapping in their teens;
Their sarks, instead o’ creeshie flainen,
Been snaw-white seventeen hunder linen!—
Thir breeks o’ mine, my only pair,
That ance were plush, o’ gude blue hair,
I *** hae gi’en them off my hurdies,
For ae blink o’ the bonie burdies!

But withered beldams, auld and droll,
Rigwoodie hags *** spean a foal,
Lowping and flinging on a crummock,
I wonder didna turn thy stomach.

But Tam kenned what was what fu’ brawlie:
‘There was ae winsome ***** and waulie’,
That night enlisted in the core
(Lang after kenned on Carrick shore;
For mony a beast to dead she shot,
And perished mony a bonie boat,
And shook baith meikle corn and bear,
And kept the country-side in fear);
Her cutty sark, o’ Paisley harn,
That while a lassie she had worn,
In longitude tho’ sorely scanty,
It was her best, and she was vauntie.
Ah! little kenned thy reverend grannie,
That sark she coft for her wee Nannie,
Wi’ twa pund Scots (’twas a’ her riches),
*** ever graced a dance of witches!

But here my Muse her wing maun cour,
Sic flights are far beyond her power;
To sing how Nannie lap and flang,
(A souple jade she was and strang),
And how Tam stood, like ane bewitched,
And thought his very een enriched;
Even Satan glowered, and fidged fu’ fain,
And hotched and blew wi’ might and main:
Till first ae caper, syne anither,
Tam tint his reason a’ thegither,
And roars out, “Weel done, Cutty-sark!”
And in an instant all was dark:
And scarcely had he Maggie rallied,
When out the hellish legion sallied.

As bees bizz out wi’ angry fyke,
When plundering herds assail their byke;
As open pussie’s mortal foes,
When, pop! she starts before their nose;
As eager runs the market-crowd,
When “Catch the thief!” resounds aloud;
So Maggie runs, the witches follow,
Wi’ mony an eldritch screech and hollow.

Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou’ll get thy fairin!
In hell they’ll roast thee like a herrin!
In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin!
Kate soon will be a woefu’ woman!
Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg,
And win the key-stane of the brig;
There at them thou thy tail may toss,
A running stream they dare na cross.
But ere the key-stane she could make,
The fient a tail she had to shake!
For Nannie, far before the rest,
Hard upon noble Maggie prest,
And flew at Tam wi’ furious ettle;
But little wist she Maggie’s mettle—
Ae spring brought off her master hale,
But left behind her ain grey tail:
The carlin claught her by the ****,
And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.

Now, wha this tale o’ truth shall read,
Ilk man and mother’s son, take heed:
Whene’er to drink you are inclined,
Or cutty-sarks run in your mind,
Think, ye may buy the joys o’er dear,
Remember Tam o’Shanter’s mare.

let the state of mind release into peace.
all the stress please leave me alone.
breath by breath all my life flashes behind me.
i'm not going insane but i have that dark heavy feeling that just sufficating.
all the darkness that has pushed me down slowly tearing me apart all around.
all the people in class have said wispers behind my back.
but my fight will never stop sun set to sun rise.
the weight of darkness runs wild like wild fire burning every thing that was beauty. but now lies.
every step i take one foot after the other. my impresion in the sand. will fade away and come back.


i leave to find my cozy safe haven that i can spread my new colorfull wings and warm them up spread them wide.
my safe haven is full of joy no one can find it cause youl just have a fight to get to me.
my breathes show when the cold weather go's.my next *** is a feild of roses that drip the new spring dew.

my life is filled with chaos and hectic things i don't under stand.
what is the reason you only just hold me down and drive me ******* crazy.

i have a safe haven where i just think pondering about my ideas that can change life and improve the blood shed to leave and go away.

my life has been stronger that any one who has try'd fail'd and lost the fight.

but i have a place that is filled with life that never dies i have a place to vent and ponder and let my thoughts out to think about what could change.


YOU CANT DRAG ME DOWN TO GO FIGHT? BUT I"M NOT A FIGHTER I'M A LOVER!!!!!

you could tear me appart by my wings will grow stronger and maybe ill sheil'd you from the bulletsthat will hit you.


i take breathes of air and clear m mind of the danger i will never escape.

but every breath i take makes a new place that i can go to to just release the anger/ that floods my vaines.

im a vary shy person but that never will change the way i see this world threw my eyes of this world that lies to me like paper that burns in the hand of the devil or demonic  ******* that just rip your (*******) (HEART) out.

my shyness lets me just watch this world an all its moves.

to me this world is like a vary vary big (CHESS GAMES) every peace is a pawn that moves to the place where you want to follow a path to lead the king or queen to fredmon.

every breath is seen when the winter starts to let heavy snow fall consume your mind.

the train tracks i walk my tracks stay the snow fall is so thick i will follow till you look ahead and just see me vanish in to the white.

my breath breath the fog on the cold dryry days.

i may be alive but deep down i am scared and beat but yet i still walk this world with no regrets only ideas that can change this corrupt world that only teaches lies that make people riot.

my life is nothing but one big scare.
but ill never just sit down and cry ill just walk this earth till i die.

if it aint black and white peck scratch and bit.

my eyes a vary blue as the kristal waters of of the gates to hell.

my breathes have nothing but ideas and people i want to leave my life.

every breath fills my lunges with energy that i can harn's and breath out fire that is nothing but my stress.

stress has riped my life apart but every new scare of wound ill manage.

my min d is strong as lifes demonic eliments.

ill never let this world leave me behind cause ill always be watching your every move.
every fight i  take in is all the night mars that will **** your soul away leaving nothing but a broken lie .


my safe haven has hid me well away from your ****** up lies that have twisted that ******* smile off your face. my save haven has my life to recover from the **** society  throws my way when darkness fills my lungs i want to go on a ram page that will drown all you out from me.

nothing is great noting is promising nothing is good or bad nothing is good nor evil. life has the rads and paths that you can make life.

i might be quiet by my eyes listen as so ears my words have nothing nice to say but that's only cause were alive.

day by day the weather changes so dose my mood.

but every one in my life is a lie.

my safe haven is my sheild that blockes the words the texts have no effect.


this life with lies have no effect. on me that only creates wounds not love or like.

my simple words words of HATE ANGER  back stabbing words that only dig your own grave that you have started when you were able to starting to talk. talking

life has led  me to insanity or insane but if you just followed a path maybe you can make your own safe haven that will not scare you.

if i tell you it only take one person to start a wave of love caring and compassion to start people to love and follow a way.

it only takes one person who's voice had been silenced in the shadows.

ill take every breath it to take to show you all a world from my point of how i see it to show how life can be made  to survive and maybe ill show you my one idea and path i want to show love.


only one person it takes to spread a world of love .



thank you my  breathing saved my anger now my breathes leave out the  harsh but ill never get knocked down ccause my safe haven has saved me from this world of fear anger hate lies societys tricks but all of tho  have


MADE ME GROW WISE WITH  answeres of life