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Vulpes Lagopus
21/M    just a writer.


John Dewberry May 2019
Agony Bearing My Serenade (Opus 1)

Cruel  is the flow of time
Like a river's flow
Life can be a never ending hardship
For people die everyday
The pain continues
As our dirt roads hit constant bumps
Sometimes we don't see the path
We're lost in the dust storm called regret
We try to wish for better
But wishful thinking usually bears agony and loss  
When I was young and innocent I was blind  
To the perpetually cold world

Claronim Hominum Morte (Opus 2)
Genocide overseas
Global pollution
We strive for better
Through struggle we all attempt success as we face the truth and stop hiding in a shadow
Society isn’t built to fail
The correctional system isn’t a bail
and politicians just kiss ***
and philosophers spew their rhetoric and tales
This world is selling itself to the devil
As we shake with the treble of life
We keep pulling forward
In a syncopated march to death

The False Illusion of Spring (Opus III)
False Images of hope
Seen in the flower petals
The colors will die
Just like us
You just have to wait
It's kind of like a tease
Nature's tease
Please- nothing lasts forever
I just wish people would see
Inside themselves enough to know
Will fate will eventually come
Unlike seasons
We only get one chance- how will you change the world

Painting Pictures of Society (Opus IV)
Our societies corrupt
Illegal drugs thugs
And prostitution
It makes me so sad to see
The girl next door transforming to a streetwalking ***** help society change for better
Don’t rule the world- Don’t let the world rule you

Media Bastardization (Opus V)
Stop brainwashing us with opinions
Give us the facts
Stop telling us lies  
Fill the cracks
Tell us the truth
FYI- nothings fact unless proven, know to know just what you believe

The Solemnly Played Notes of Regret (Opus VI)
It strikes a chord
When one does hoard
Knowledge for himself
Instead of sharing
And caring
He chooses to be an introvert
And he's smart
But introversion will hurt because he is choosing to stay silent  

Talk it Out (Opus VI)
Got a problem with someone  
Talk it out
Make it better
Words can severe heads together
To solve the world’s problems
Cunning Linguist Nov 2013
Hella business
Got hella *******
Poppin double bottles
With a couple of mistresses
Stellar mistreatment
Here's the key
Lock em in the cellar
Forever their memory lies
But a troubling mystery

Hysteria erupting
Like waves gushing
From the tip of my *****
My genius is better
I'm the King here's my scepter
Now watch the teeth
You worthless Queen
Or I'll stifle them screams

I **** ******* on trampolines
Motion sickness?
Overdose on Dramamine

Slave to the magnitude
Of my impressive **** munching
Exploring deplorable nether-regions galore;
Can't touch me you got nothing
Broke *******
Grind your brain like morning coffee beans

Shame is a word just outside the boundaries
of my fabulous vocabulary

Oh, am I contrite?
How trifling
Check my charm I'm enlightening
Enigmatic and igniting sporadically like lightning
Magically radical voyaging down
                                                  down the rabbit's hole
Inciting excited riots to light fires spark fuses and chew on live wires
You do not frighten me.
Delivering excruciating asphyxiation to every pwn'd n00b
Is my modus operandi
And this is my magnum opus

I have Tourette's

Conceive these merriments of abhorrent mental abortions
Precisely concise and incisive concocting incoherent comatose monstrosities to flatten your lifelines
Conduct these ensembles of debauchery and narcotics -
I'm fascinating;
Crippling your mind like a lobotomy and tripping the light fantastic through bombarding planes of consciousness
I'm on acid thraxXx'd the **** OUT and faded
Levitating fading and oscillating in time while inflating my ego

But lets be realistic
the caliber of my linguistics is intrinsically aesthetic
but none too altruistic
Be reasonable lest I demand be-headings on grounds of treason
Its not hard for me -
It's profound, the sound of suffering;
I'll swallow your soul
'Tis the season!

Inference for instance -
****-hand upturned to oceans of incessant peasants
Pestering to ****** and fluster your festering ****-hole
Exact my revenge; begin phase mayhem
initiating total brain annihilation
interring bodies posthaste with skilled persistence
And sporting in poor taste

You who peers through eye of the pyramid-
Would you be so kind as to interpret my footprint at face-value?
Do you take me for a fool yet seek prophets reaping profits?
Listen to them sleep, baaah-ing away like flocks of little sheep
My hearts not on my sleeve but I have a trick or two up there;

Now bow before my marvelous flow
As I behold my throne whilst throwing bows and exposing hoes.
Roz K Feb 2010
We laid in the grass
touching, kissing, holding.

In the background there was a song,
you dedicated it to me.

Little did you know that the major chords lift,
and the minor cords show the depths of melancholy.

Maybe you should have dedicated a different melody.