WOULD YOU RATHER DIE BY THE MOAT AROUND THE CASTLE, OR BY THE ***** OUT IN THE RAIN?
TORN APART BY THE TERROR OF THE WATERS,
OR BY THE JAWS OF THE ENSLAVED?

Lets reek havoc, we can all take turns
annihilate the whole human race
let us watch this ******* place burn
an eye for an eye, a mangled face
an eye for an eye, a mangled face
destroy this whole decrepit place
decimation of the known race
Lets reek havoc, and see the toll it takes

WOULD YOU RATHER DIE BY THE MOAT AROUND THE CASTLE, OR BY THE ***** OUT IN THE RAIN?
TORN APART BY THE TERROR OF THE WATERS,
OR BY THE JAWS OF THE ENSLAVED?
WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY TO SEE YOUR GOD DETHRONED?
TO SEE THE CHANGE IT BRINGS?
DO YOU WISH TO HEAR THE WARRIORS OF THE APOCALYPSE, AND THE SONGS THEY SING?

SOME PEOPLE JUST WANT TO SEE IT ALL BURN
TO TEAR IT DOWN AS THE WORLD TURNS
REEKING HAVOC ON THE WHOLE **** PLACE
DESTROYING HISTORY LEAVING NO TRACE

COME ON BACK TO THE WALL AND SEE IF THEY'LL LET YOU IN. GO ON AND ROLL THE DICE, AFTER ALL ALL IT IS YOUR LIFE MY FRIEND
GREEN MEADOWS YOUR BODY LIES BELOW, HANGING BY A THREAD ON THE END
IT WAS REALLY OVER BEFORE IT ALL BEGAN.

DO YOU WANT MISERY TO JOIN THE WORLD NO LONGER ALONE?
TO FREE THEIR TROUBLED SOULS?
DID YOU THINK YOU WOULD ESCAPE YOUR DEMISE
YOU MUST PAY THE TOLL
THERE IS A PRICE FOR LIFE, THAT YOU'LL SOON KNOW
YOURS IS THE LIFE I STOLE.

SOME PEOPLE JUST WANT TO SEE IT ALL BURN
TO TEAR IT DOWN AS THE WORLD TURNS
REEKING HAVOC ON THE WHOLE **** PLACE
DESTROYING HISTORY LEAVING NO TRACE

THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE THINGS

WOULD YOU RATHER DIE BY THE MOAT AROUND THE CASTLE, OR BY THE ***** OUT IN THE RAIN?
TORN APART BY THE TERROR OF THE WATERS, OR BY THE JAWS OF THE ENSLAVED?

They say that teenagers are selfish, complicated and dumb. They make us look like kids, waiting to follow their orders without even blinking. They expect us to do everything they want. They expect us to follow their rules... to follow them.

But there's one thing they've yet to realize, we are the future and that means that, someday, they will have to follow our rules. And we are going to be great leaders, great wariors and great artists. We are going to clean up their mess, a are going to live worth lives, we are going to restore peace,  we are going to save Earth.

And in that day, when they woke up feeling the sunlight in their faces, with nothing but feelings of joy in their hearts, they'll see we never nedeed their rules, we can make our own rules, but better, but fairest, but stronger, cause we are unbreakable...

There are some people out there that have wanted to **** themselves for some time now.
And there are some who have bled blood from their bodies to drown out the tears.

There are some people out there who were once the brave ones.
The cool kids.
The strong warriors.

These people, they were once dreamers.
Who are now haunted by nightmares.

These people, they were once believers.
Who are now wearing the handprint of life bitchslapping them in the face.

These people, they were once fearless.
And now fear is the only thing they want less of.

But these people, they haven’t given up yet.

These people fight every day to better themselves.
They fight to be strong once again.

These people haven’t ended it all, even though they feel like the world is pushing them to.
They haven’t given up.
They haven’ killed themselves.

But that’s not something you can brag about at fancy parties.

we attached a meaning to life,planted peace and uprooted the strife
we had pleasures, we enjoyed our life we took no measures
risked falling off the cliffs gladly faced them dangers
but that was the point ,it wasn't living if we weren't believing
we could successfully turn the pages, make memories walking on the edges
we faced the challenge, we had to manage,
trekked through the sun till it was orange
You'd appreciate for we had the courage
we was buried in beating the current, we were hurried
to define our ambition, the mission was reaching the mirage
it was illusive,we were incisive, brothers fell out we were inclusive
we kept fighting and biting,made laws but we weren't abiding
mistakes we went on citing,tough choices we weren't deciding
the higher the ladder, the more life was harder
expected to lead by example,we had to sample life, at times lost the tempo
danced to beats affected the cardiacs, hit the streets mistaken for maniacs
evading defeat propelled to take cover for we were rebels,
running from criticisms coming at us harder than pebbles
we weren't famous but they knew us,ambassadors for the new earth
we were the weight,we were the scales, our actions were the bells
the story that everyone tells,we guided their trains for we were the rails,hickory dickory dock
we were the ship and yacht at every Dock,
the movies to watch and the stories to talk,
for we lit avenues from where they would walk
so the shines went interstellar,the inspiration to every fella
for we rode on luck and provided to many who lack
we were a drug to every dealer, some thought we were Rockefeller
took nothing for granted for we were hunted,
life was a charm so many enchanted we couldn't forget we were wanted
we stuck to the guns, saw it till the end, it was a fire to which we would fend
we had an entire generation and a legacy to defend
persistent to resistance,so much it defined our existence
we fought monsters and didn't give up,so that our world would get a revamp
we were peaceful warriors,we were notorious

The forested breeze blew eastwards. On each swing of the wind, the birds flew and fluttered. Each of their wings swaying to find a harmonious balance. The sweet melody of ethnic hymns from the native village rose above the trees. The sequenced output with equalised acapella became an anthem that ruled the forests.The gravelled path structured it's way between the trees right to the heart of the village.

The village elder sat outside the middle hut. His hut stood out from those encircling it. Humbled in stature but yet symbolically decorated with colourful redness of the roses. The beautiful scented ambience rose to fuel the air within and around. The door of the hut was formatted with sculptured inscriptions that had a covert meaning. A story line about the long historic lineage of leaders. The entrance of the doorway was guarded by two warriors. Each of them had a shield and spear, alert and portraying courage. Their bodies were bare ready to attack the enemy, their groins fully formed and covered with *****. The sight of the hut itself was magnificent...... it's aura radiant with an embodiment of hereditary and hierarchical authority.

As the village chief watched the birds sway and whistle, he sat on his antique stool. In the openness of the nature he appeared puzzled. As he shrugged his symbolic leopard hide on his back.... it swung side to side. Still in situ, but there was something about it's presence that nagged him. He touched it and then speedily moved his hand from it. He then raised his voice. "Amita!"

His voice echoed and roared penetrating all the homesteads. By the time the volume of the echo subsided he called out again "Amita, Amita, Amita!"

Amita came running and knelt at the feet of the Chief. She replied "Yes Chief Hashi. I am here for your service Sir!"

Amita was a 21 year old girl. She was wearing a straw skirt. Her arm was tattooed with a prominent artistic representation of a snake swinging from the tree. The shades of the red snake pictured on the hues of the green tree. This symbolised that she was a servant and lived at the Chief's Quarters. Amita had sacrificed her life as her lineage did to serve the Chief and his household. A dedication of servanthood to the Chief and him alone.

Amita bowed as she knelt, her bare ***** ***** and shadowing the Chief's feet. The chief looked at Amita as if hyptonised by the touch of her *******. He glared at her beauty, the outstanding womanhood she poised. After a long pose of silence the Chief responded, " Amita, can you fix my hide ensuring that it's attachments are secure"

There was a level of vulnerability that the chief showed Amita. He appeared to be humble, a denudation of authority, that very call of submission. There was evidently a reciprocal of roles as Amita raised her eyes from the ground to face the Chief. As their eyes met the Chief hastily paused and froze as if speechless. As he gathered his senses he was firmly able to look at Amita and said, " Can you join me inside my hut please?"

Amita remained kneeling as the Chief stood up from his stool. Chief Hashi steadily walked to the doorway of his hut. Pace after pace, stroll after stroll. As he walked by the doorway the warriors raised their spears to his presence. He was proudly ushered to his exquisite residence. He then  faced the warriors and asked them to leave guard. Chief Hashi requested, "Can you come back after two hours." As the guards walked away the Chief in his freedom danced around, hysterically moving his hands multi-directionally.

Chief Hashi opened the window to his hut. This was adjacent to where Amita was kneeling. In his vulnerability he whispered, "My child Amita, get up and join me inside my hut. The door is open and ajar.... always for you my queen."

Amita stood up from the kneeling position and run her way into Chief Hashi hut.

We try to fight
We found a new way to see the light
Here we are now at the end
Warriors United
One at a time we win the battles
Show we are not alone in the war
United we are
United we stay
I am the one who fights for the scared
I am the one who fights for the depressed
I am the one who stands for what's right
I am the one who speaks for the dead
We are the warriors who will show you what's right
United we are
United we stand
One by one
We will win this war

During my Childhood.
a New Hampshire father of twin boys named Joe taught me that friendship, love, and respect,
meant wrestling.
He was a burly man
with glasses and a salt and pepper beard
Who loved guitar hero, dunkin' doughnuts and Motorcycles.
One day joking to his adult friends I heard:
"I'm a lesbian trapped in a mans body"

Now, Joe did not mean this the way
we think of it in this community.
He was not transgendered.
probablly didn't even know they exist.
He was simply saying.
"I have an attraction to girls who will never love me, because I have a *****,
and Isn't that tragic enough for a punchline?"
Though a young boy,
I identified with that.

In middle school, the media convinced me
that gay boys were getting all the ladies.
So I needed everyone to know I was gay.
that way, they'd be my friends,
and get naked in front of me.
It worked.
However, I still could not get a girlfriend.
And I did not want a boyfriend.
because again, It was all a 10 year old me's
Con just to see girls undress.

A year or two goes by
being gay
To get a girlfriend.
when on the television:
I see Tila Tequila.
A bisexual Bachelorette reality Show.

Wait! I said to my mother.
"I CAN LIKE BOTH?"
"Sure you can! I do.
This one time, aunt spider and I"
"Mom! That's enough."

So in my living room,
Surrounded by fold-out tables
And chicken parmesisan
I pronounced myself bisexual.

I had the best of both worlds! I could watch girls undress, AND have a girlfriend.
This was not relevant however, for a while.
As I still had not developed social skills.

Enter highschool awkward bisexual boy.
I'd never actually been attracted to a man before...
But I wasn't ruling it out.
zero percent of the woman I fell for seemed to like men,
Or more accurately, me.
I was resonating closer to the
"Lesbian trapped in a mans body"
line then ever before.
I probablly asked out every female senior, every girl I grew up with.
every girl who looked at me, to go on a date.
All to be turned down.
Except one.
I entered college with a monogamous Long-term relationship raising A beautiful Nerd girl's daughter.
Seemed like I had it made.
Young parents.
Both bisexual.
Together we flushed out Every kink and curvature of what pleasured us.
Then two years later.
My grandmother died,
I lost my job of four years,
She left me,
taking our daughter with her.
Devastated, I turned to the most destructive of known vices.
Tinder.

I went on first and last date after parking lot hookup after rooftop romance with these girls.
Writing poetry all the while to document my stresses.
I was no longer "A lesbian trapped in a mans body."
If anything, I was a lesbian
Thriving! In a mans body.

This came up at a party once
We were playing rockband when I said it.
A woman spoke up:
"You're devalueing the phrase for transgendered woman who use it!
It's dissrepectfull."
When I tried to explain myself:
That it helped me rationalize
years of rejection
laugh at my own failure.
Build the foundation
for my optimistic attitude
By saying it's not me.
I just like lesbians.
it made my failures a predictable Punchline.

But I was weak.
They convinced me.
I stopped identifying as
"A lesbian thriving in a mans body."
from then on, I was a man.

Years have passed and I've given a lot of love to a lot of people.
Learned a lot about my preferences
Sexually, romantically, personally.

At the momment:
I am a:
Hetero flexible
Polyamorous
Male.

But deep down I know.
Even though I'll never say it.
Because it isn't really true.
Or maybe because it's offensive.
Or maybe because i'm scared.
I'll always be a lesbian
Thriving as a man.