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E Jul 4
I write
A symphony
Of you
And me

We sing
Our symphony
Colors and sounds
Float through the trees

Red and blue
Make a purple symphony
B D Caissie Nov 2019
When faced with turbulent seasons
I weather the storm like a paladin knight

Constantly searching for my holy grail
So I may quench my thirst for happiness

Lost in a shadowed forest of poor choices
Yearning guidance from my round table

Drawing my sword I ****** forth my quill
Shield raised guarding my fragile heart

I pray my fate is not yet written in stone
For I've not yet vanquished life's dragons

Rob Sandman Mar 2018
your eyes flickering you're nickering
your nit pickin' lost it quick as the Dickens
My tracks a hell of a kickin'
you're just the next feckin victim,
of the flow bound Hurricane of sense and rhythm,
The Sensemilla Sensei Kempei of verbal Kempo's home,
Like Alladin and Saladin mixed with a Party Boobytrap a Paladin of Palindrome...
The Storm rider glider blasts you through the  other side of the Thunderdome
My - Spitfire drips Ire as ******* ***** fire Surprise in your eyes quick blast from the past from a .50 Cal Microphone-
Fiend in me soul under control you failed your roll,
will check failed-I check wills,its a Checkmate mate you-best quill your will and will to build some soul
Its a dill of pickle you're in - you're a nickle worth of Nickleback stickleback sticklebricking best Lego
I let go last, I'm the Legolas of the fast pass in the underpass stick you fast now you're stuck fast I buck fast at your glass of Buckfast
the Truculent, ever vigilant-words are Succulent got you diggin' in
diggin' out a liddle bit of Lidl in a stolen digger,move quicker stop the friggin' in the riggin' little Pigpen Pigeons time to drop the bridge in...
Just a bit of an experiment to see if I could start slow and simple and end up demented(all rhymed at full speed and full volume)
and...yup, Mr Sandman's 3rd Lung always kicks in :) by the way Sticklebricks were like an off brand Lego,only ever saw them in Ireland.
Banner Fastened to pewter and steel.
Bound by leather with gold and teal.

"Hail" my Kinsmen, "Aye" says he.
"The next time we meet here, we all will be free"

Reigns fastened, stained satin, lain flattened, by brains bashed in .

and Blood...

A Clean Victory.

Dark Jewel Oct 2014
Hailed by your power.
Beside Bhafel the ill,
Cause chaos and fire.

Beyond a shaman,
Only power of the Falcon.
Shall save Erinn,
From the War of the Fomors.

Will await her arrival.
Precious Triona's dead knight.
Move on and reconcile.

He will fight,
Ending the fire.
Ending the hell,
But destroying the Goddess.

Thy Falcon,
Thou must saveth Morrighan.
To keep balance,
In Erinn.

The soul stream call,
To its Guiding Hero.
Man and Woman,
Will Save this world.
Any who play or research Mabinogi will know who the two Dragons are and the Black Knight. Triona was a Fomor.
JerrHoll Jul 2014
Wounded.  Staring at the gaping hole - shock.
This was not supposed to be that fight, those rounds - from where?

Laughter I hear, carefree cackles of one who never knew
Responsibility, dues and costs, penalties dear.  For whim to be entertained
not wise enough to realize entertained is enslaved.

I hear voices calling my name, telling me to hold on, this wasn't my fault
It was - is.  I chose to think myself wiser, trusting my judgement
Foolish. Now, dying.

I can feel my heartbeat increasing.  I know, less to move it must go faster
thermodynamics even in death must be satisfied.  Why in life we are not all bound by such an equalizer - I'll now never know.

I had a foot, legs - no longer felt yet there. Toes protruding from worn sock. 
All I feel is the burning of the phosphor.

She laughs still, thinking in life her vict'ry but nay, her laughter betrays her
Uncertain, alone, thinking she is in control when truth revealing, 
She controls nothing.

Take what you will and can little idiot. Foolish jester of the court of your own mind.
Be certain in your own supremacy for therein your demise.
And, I smile knowing that if is I who'll laugh at last. As into final slumber I slip
A caress from my Princess, my blade ****** deep into the enemy
And I sleep. No more voices, no laughter, yet I see the amazement

Faces before contorted in mocking humiliation, now stare in disbelief

Reality has hit.
Death alone liberates but man's soul, Christ, his spirit takes.

At last I kneel before my Princess, her hand upon worn pommel upon mine,
Fuller stain'd with the conquered blood, point to foible worn dull from the slash
Her hand brushes the scarred worn face

Eye to eye, though still on my knee I sleep - and breathe my last 
        Her kiss upon my lips unto eternal sleep until called forth again I rise
            To raise my sword again and ****** against the horde unleashed as blood cold
        Runs like river deep in Spring thaw o'erflowing banks from a far land 
laughter cackling on the shore and my curse endure again bared

Poor lost and wicked child.
Your victory my death
My death, your defeat.

For I shall live on forever and your dreams haunt as surely as if I were there
E'en though you deny it

My Princess stands protected again, with raised sword and shield, enveloped by my wing
My breath from her I draw - sweet like honey's kiss - and I sleep in eternal bliss.
Thoughts following a consideration of teenage insolence, a Princess to my heart, and the inevitability of repetition

— The End —