The writing's on the wall
Though you couldn't always read it
But now that you know
The fate bestowed
Ask, do you truly need it?

man was the first to preform suicide
natural born martyrs
too sick to bring themselves to eat their own filth
our strongest are easiest to fall
men were not made to survive
but sequential installments are in
follow suite in order to remain on top
in order to fall farther

i think they understand that all religion says that the earth is god, and man is his son

there are laws made by man, and laws made by nature...both can make us whole, and both can make us salt

salt of the earth - salt is white when dry, but when mixed in, it makes a whole without color

earth - ground

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, happy day:}


a born man
is a free man
yet somehow
is living in slavery on a timed boiling pan
is a deaf slave to a throne of what can't do and what can
is a blind king on his throne to the people's command
is a mute reigning with silence to speak up to his land
is a ******* to stop chaos with one stand
is living in the darkest poles denying the sun's shake of hand
and with all that he is still a free man

                                                                ­     ------ravenfeels

when already in his mind
he'd dusted himself off like a rooster
run down the hotel stairs
gotten on the train
to quickly
escape from her
to where the black pepper grows

she, snuggling up to
him with both eyes firmly closed
had already built with them
a house
smelling of dinner
and fresh children
to which he'd just come running
up the stairs

(in reality
he and she had slept
together for the first time
and lying
keep silent about this precisely
in two foreign
mutually unknown
languages)

The Q Man
The Q Man was somebody who was different
He travelled the galaxies and universe doing a job
Flying a Type 6 spaceship interstellar style
Normal space travel took forever and a day
But his ship was a souped one off
With engine and fuel enhancements
Zipping from world to world to work
He lands in a remote place and hides
His pointed ship from observers or spies
And hikes to his location to do the job
The tool of his trade is a long range rifle
Made on Planet Earth three millennia ago
It’s fitted with modified 7. 62mm bullets
These **** every single life form from a mile
On normal blood and body organisms
Normal explosive bullets do the job
With insect like ones with an armoured body
Armour piercing acid bullets eradicate them
He has 3002 different bullet types to use
Each one killing a designated target
The contract killer with no home
Except between the stars in his ship
Living for a dozen centuries extendable
You don’t want to mess with him
Nor be on his **** list as you’re ******
Zapped by an old skool high tech bullet
Fired by the best assassin there ever was
The Q Man and his rifle always on call