My friend, the fates are cruel
There are no dreams
No honour remains
The arrow has left
The bow of the goddess
My soul corrupted by vengeance
Hath endured torment
To find the end of the journey
In my own salvation
And your eternal slumber
Legends shall speak
Of sacrifice at world's end
The winds sail over the waters surface
Quietly but surely

(Sword)
         This
            is
           the
Sword of Hope.
       Slaying
       all who
       infringe
       &  stand
        against
        peoples
        dreams.
         I  will
         wield
            It.

Truth is the trigger, and it's scent of the pure gun powder.
Guns hired, shots fired, crossed fired, everything hey wired.
Rippling of bullets, Trail of ****** rounds, Tracer rounds, all rebounds.

Faltering skies, Blistering eyes, all those lies, bullets fly!
Like sharp blade, taking turns to trade, those bullets raid.
Smoke in the barrel, those sweet gun carol, music of bangs vector zero.

reigning bullets, covered in red, shots on the head.
Spinning around, dazed and confused, all but train wrecks.
Street lights blur, speaking in slur, losing mind without a cure.

Love with the gun, all came close to none, and ready for the fun.
Squeeze to aim true, and everything blew, all those bullets flew.
Purity in those bullets, truth in the trigger, faith in the gun.

Those bullets in the dark, lighten by the spark, stray bullets embark.
Dripping of red, streaks of red, all those people dead.
Judge not the bullet, not the gun, but the man pulling the trigger!

How come we fight for our country and put our lives on the line, for a corrupt political system and officials that lie.

We fight overseas for our freedom, and we do so with honor. Yet how can we be free, when our government is secretly keeping all of its citizens monitored. Its no secret Americas broke, so its a joke that we still spend, billions of dollars a year on our nations defense.

I guess when your obsession is power, the best direction is war. When were face to face with recession, how can we justifiably spend more.

We stand by our leaders. We expect their actions to  honor there name. Only to be left with corporate corruption, financed for political gain. Now a days the word justice, fails to hold its function. When big business contributions, purchase the people that govern us.

So how do you tell the people, that our debit is so vast. That our currency is becoming worthless, without panicking the mass.

By consistently creating conflicts, that create a flow of cash.
This is how it all works, with the current system in play. The poor go to a war, that the the middle class pays, the people in power see a profit, and the soldiers feel the pain.

The sun has set and darkness calls
Alone I walk down these empty halls
Silent speech on deaf ears falls
Surrounded by high built walls
The thing that shouldn't be has come
His very presence makes us numb
Speechless we're all struck dumb
To his rule we shall all succumb
The fires roar to the sky
Evil in every man's eye
Enemies all they must die
In the bed we made we lie
The waves crush upon the shore
Ever seeking evermore
Always out to settle the score
Never ready for what's in store
The temptation to give in
To every heedless mortal sin
To never loose but always win
To never stop but always begin
The master calls to his slave
Tells him to dig his own grave
Doesn't matter how much he gave
His soul just couldn't be saved
The temptress sings her siren song
Her nights are cold, lonely and long
Only looking for a man strong
But the love she gives is so wrong
The story ends where it began
As darkness rules and covers the land
It comes down to one last man
Will he cower or will he stand

I got a letter from the government
A week back, Tuesday morning
It came in a grey envelope
It was stamped with a red warning

The envelope was tattered
And the words were inked in red
To be opened by recipient
That was all it said

I checked the name typed on there
It was mine, so I could see
John Augustus Reed
Beale Street, Unit 43

I opened it and sat right down
I had been drafted so it said
I had to report on Thursday
I heard a ringing in my head

I didn't understand it all
To me it made no sense
This plain grey mottled envelope
Sent from my government

I followed the instructions
And showed up promptly at the place
Something was asunder
I could tell from the man's face

I showed him my draft letter
Explained, I didn't understand
He looked at it and laughed a bit
This wasn't what I'd planned

He said son, is this you
Are you John Augustus Reed
I told him I'm John Junior
He said that's all the news I need

This letter is a glitch, boy
It wasn't meant for you
It was sent out to your father
Back in nineteen seventy two

Somehow it was mangled
Got lost along the way
Until somebody found it
And you got it on that day

I'm glad you chose to come here
Showed up exactly when it said
But, I think you now can go on home
I think it's best, instead

It's amazing how one letter
And you can take this to the bank
Can fill a man with honor
For that I must give thanks.

---

what is it makes a person
great in this sad world?
where there's such mediocrety
it is a precious pearl

is it that they have money?
that they have accrued
a trillion dollar bank account?
does this make a person good?

perhaps they have a famous face
or well regarded name
maybe they play basketball
and have a winning team

is it artistic talent?
was Vincent van Gogh lauded?
in his painful lifetime
was this man applauded?

perhaps they are as Edison
and have a brilliant mind
but Edison used Tessla
to him he was unkind

this is what I think
makes a man or woman great
that they give life their ALL
that they do not faint

if you sweep the street
and make it clean and bright
If you are an educator
and bring poor children light
if you are a poet
on a humble poetry site
it is forgiving others
not having to be right!
if you are a boxer
and don't give up the fight

this is what is greatness
it's not playing a part
it is truly living

with your entire HEART.


soulsurvivor
(C) 8/31/2015