“On this dread field we gather. Our blades, sharp. And the drums echo the beat of our ardent hearts.”

                            
Singing and slaying, a picture painted darkly
                                
an instant illuminated, like a war among the stars

made by lightning and the rain

                              
Hoping but knowing, this could be the last chapter
                                                  
and how the world is in your sight, between the flashes of steel

is marked by the courage in your eyes

                                                        
A chorus of thunder follows our voices, bounding over the field of death
                                                      
tonight we all live by the second and strive against darkness with every breath

The land I was born in,
is crumbling fast.
The civil war took it,
Into its cold grasp.
We had no defense,
Though we had a forecast.
Perhaps if we pray we'll unite at last.

The place I was brought up,
Is now just a hole.
the bombs they where dropped by...
our own flagpole.
The Reds they did nothing,
in fact they helped pray,
perhaps if we join them we will mend someday.

Though no war was declared.
I know history'll tell,
the cities were roaring,
you could hear every yell.
The guns they got fired,
the guns made of gold,
I know if we wait dear, we'll survive the cold.

We used to have battles,
to get to the moon.
But now we start wars just,
to earn silver spoons.
The battle you can't win,
but if we all die,
just know that we tried hard, to fight the good fight.

The chemicals we spread,
they hurt God more.
when he sees us suffer.
And start backyard wars,
He has a good reason,
to not pick a side.
The reason our side fights, is to stay alive.

If I am alive when,
the world war three comes.
I know that in battle
is where ill become:
just a brick of carbon
in a world full of life
the war zone is ready, we live in its strife.

A bullet that comes from,
your neighbors handgun,
it hits you and tells you,
that your life is done,
but we will all destroy,
this battle of hate,
there's nothing we can do, perhaps we just wait.

the old time America,
has breathed its last breath.
The Communists and all,
the racists face death.
If I was to be there,
I would say no way,
we've seen enough death now, to last a decade.

The court rooms are empty
the laws have all died,
if we could rebuild it,
this country could thrive,
but let us not make all,
the same old mistakes.
This land that I love is: facing an earthquake.

It is over in most ways,
in  others its worse.
the temper of those man,
has cast a a new curse.
There's nothing that's been won,
when death is so rich.
I hope we learn lessons while digging the ditch .

I don’t know if I’m capable of love.

I’ve had too many people use me,
Shy away from me.
I’ve decided if I’m too much,
If I have to sacrifice part of myself to be with someone,
Then I don’t want love, or anything of the kind.

So this isn’t love.
There is nothing romantic about it,
But there is just something about him.

The features of myself I used to hate,
I’ve come to cherish.
There’s a cold, distant expression that warps my face.
What used to be forest, spring green eyes,
Are now eyes laced with a sickly, threatening, green poison.
It wards people off,
Keeps them away.
I always wished for a warm, open face,
But now I embrace the icy sheen that takes over my gaze.

He does not heed my warnings.
I’ve caught him looking my way,
It’s not like I’ve never caught people looking at me before,
They look at me with shy curiosity.
They want to know me better,
I see it in their eyes,
But it’s just for their own personal gain.
They just want me because they think If I accept them,
They’ll finally be complete.
I’m the missing piece.
It’s disgusting.

His eyes though,
They don’t say that.
His eyes are unlike anyone’s I’ve seen before.

There is a blue depth to them.
Not quite like the ocean,
But not quite like the sky either.
I can’t quite put a name to the color,
But they would have to be somewhere between ice blue,
And the blue of the sky on a warm day in the summer,
On a beach,
Far, far away.

His look is a quiet challenge,
Like he knows my ways.
Knows the façade that is the cold, warning look,
That spreads across my face,

And he ignores it.
Presenting a calm, but firm challenge of his own.
When our eyes meet,
He does not look away.

Others will look away out of fear,
Fear that I am judging them,
Fear that I can see right through them,
But he meets my eye,
And challenges me to break our gaze.
I look away every time.

Who is this boy,
With blonde hair,
The color of sand on distant islands.
Who is this boy,
With sunkissed skin,
And a body that’s seen the gym at least a couple times.

Who is this boy,
Who dares to challenge me?
After all I’ve done,
To build my walls,
And keep people out.
Who is this boy,
Who ignores them, and walks right in?

I don’t know.
I don’t even know his name.
But it has been a long time,
Since I’ve felt a stirring of interest,
A curiosity in someone else,
That goes beyond just keeping them away.

I don’t know who he is,
Or what he wants,
But he’s given me hope.
Hope for someone like me,
Someone who’s seen war trenches of their own,
Who still secretly hopes for someone.
Not someone to bring them out,
But to appreciate the scars that have accumulated,
And the battle that will never be forgotten,
In the deep, dark recesses of my mind.

loving you is a war
i never thought i would fight in.
but here i am,
on my knees,
hands in the air,
yelling of my surrender
to you.

Too many waves
Too much commotion
Too many thoughts
And too much emotion
Back and forth, up and down
The world is rocking, I think I'll drown
I'm losing touch, I can't commit
I can't help it, I'm sea sick.

Too many people
Not enough air
I'm a prisoner
Tied to this chair
Too fast, too slow, side to side
No privacy on this stifling ride
I'm losing my mind bit by bit
I can't help it, I'm car sick

Slow me down, silence the storm
Its 40 below yet I'm still too warm
Too much chaos I can't breathe
I retreat inside, cuz I can't leave
Shattered glass, bottled up tight
Too scared to quit, too tired to fight
Im losing this battle, I've lost my way
I'll lose my life, if I delay
This fear inside is swallowing me whole
Will I ever calm my tormented soul?

I see you there,
where you crawl up and give up.
Your burning tears on your cheeks,
Your desperate battle cry,
I see you wanting to reach high in the sky,
and drying your tears from your eyes.

Don't worry, don't hide and throw away the bitterness from your soul.
Fight, never give up.
Live up to your dreams.
Because I'll be watching over you.

Please don't feel blue,
because I know you can break through.
You can do it,
you have the spirit.

~Niko

Oh Donny and Arnie got into a battle,
begun by The Donald who started to prattle
on something so urgent... important... momentous,
which is: Arnie's ratings on this year's "Apprentice".

So Arnie said, "Trump - What's your priority,
a show you produce or the presidency?"
Then Donny said, "I'll show you how much I care"
as he made a dog's breakfast by hijacking prayer.

So Arnie said, "Donny, you ignorant *****,
when it comes to careers, perhaps we should switch.
You take on the ratings as job number one,
while I sit in the Oval and get something done!"

Of course, this whole thing's a ridiculous act
on the part of The Donald, so he can distract
all of us and the press and the whole internet
from the seemingly fascist agenda he's set.

So let's make a vow not to speak of this stuff,
and let us not heed this celebrity fluff.
Let's not make muckraking the thing that we do...
But now I have realized... I've just done it too!

Mine eyes hath seen the horror of the rise of Donald Trump.
Mine ears hath heard his vitriol he spews from on the stump.
If you believed his ramblings, he took you for a chump.
His "truth's" near always wrong.

Lordy, lordy did he fool ya?
With his con job did he school ya?
Now you'll have to let him rule ya.
Now that your chance has gone.

He swept past sixteen wannabes and claimed the G.O.P.
Surrounded now by sycophants, and yes-men who'll agree
with whatever harmful, hateful, hurtful law that he'll decree.
His ego marches on

Sorry, sorry, such an awful lesson learned.
By protest through the ballot box, the whole world has been burned.
A tyrant's come to power, with the facts and truth adjourned.
His tyranny goes on.

But I say there is hope my friend to right this wrong, you see.
Will you rise in righteous protest and recite this rhyme with me?
And let it help remind you of the past when you were free.
With hope, we shall move on!

Glory, glory when we weather this dark storm,
glory for us once again, when love becomes the norm.
When we have ousted ignorance in every evil form.
And truth goes marching on.