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Apr 2014 · 22.6k
Rasta
Taylor McDonnell Apr 2014
Rastafarians
Take a ****, forget your pain
Let peace flow through you
Apr 2014 · 13.2k
O Brother
Taylor McDonnell Apr 2014
Even though we fight
whenever we're together
I miss you like Hell
Mar 2014 · 855
The Thirteenth Hour
Taylor McDonnell Mar 2014
The clock keeps ticking on,
piercing the shield of my mind.
It ripples through once-calm waters,
always with the threat of the impending hour.
The thirteenth hour,
a chime no one else can hear.
the chime that takes hold of all hopes
dreams, liberties, experiences, and goals,
and throws them all away, engulfing them
in it's shattering sound.
It's the sound of finality,
and it consumes us all, sooner or later.
So don't just sit there and watch the cars pass by.
Chase that thing that you can't afford to lose.
Because when it's all said and done
you'll want to embrace the thirteenth hour,
not perish in it's ever-looming shadow.
Mar 2014 · 828
The Blight
Taylor McDonnell Mar 2014
Out my window, plain and clear,
I see a visage there appear.
In the dark, cold, winter night,
through thick, blue mist, an icy blight,
I see a figure, obscured and tall
and feel a sinking in my gall.
It's arm extends, and points at me,
a silent curse, condemning me
as I stand and turn to run
a rapid beat my heart's begun,
I look away and see the pile,
the gleaming product of my guile.
A gold bar tower of ill-gain,
crumbling now, 'tis my life's bane.
Pushing through the golden sea,
the door I grasp for desperately
Behind me the ice-blue mist is blowing
The glass then shatters, the room's now glowing.
The ice, it crept, crept up my toes,
up my fingers and  above my nose,
the bitterness within my soul
and hatred grasp, and take control.
The gold starts melting, my precious treasure.
Now I'm  judged by different measure.
The floor below me starts to crack
At this point there's no turning back.
My soul dives down below the glow
of icy mist and molten flow
Below the ground it is much hotter
on the edge I teeter totter
between the world and blazing tomb
where pain and fear and flames consume
finally I tumble down
The end is here, in smoke I drown.
Sep 2012 · 627
With You
Taylor McDonnell Sep 2012
When I’m with you, I feel beautiful.
I feel as though the world around us fades away,
and all that’s left is you, me, and the sound.
The sound of our hearts singing out in harmony.
The warmth of our lips touching, ever-so gently.
So gently that the butterflies inside of me weep out
the sweetest nectar that has ever been made.

When I’m with you, I feel alive,
I feel giddy, and wild, and free.
So free that I can barely keep from leaping off mountainsides
In hopes that I may soar,
Away from all the troubles
And into your loving arms.

— The End —