He's walked along this lonely road,
Stone-laid on a bed of lime,
That stretches forever through these hills.
He walked to the end of time.
Littered by this pathway's side,
From ages past and gone,
Are ruined towers never completed,
For in the end we work alone,
And the skyline beholds a burning red,
In the distant lands,
Where war rages ever on,
Painting crimson the golden sands.
He stopped by a tumid river,
And took an idle drink,
From the tears of all the people,
Who, in their sorrow, sink,
And he was not happy, nor was he sad,
To be entombed within this place,
So he turned and ventured on,
With ancient light to guide his pace,
And he reached that end of time,
At the break of the forlorn road,
So he wrote, at once, his final words,
Dead seeds to never be sowed:
"Do not weep for the end of the world,
In truth, it's not that sad,
For it no longer exists,
Or maybe it never had."

Beneath the surface of a book,
Another world stands still,
Tucked between blank pages,
Sitting on a windowsill.
Here it is called the Netherworld,
The place where Time begins,
Where the newly dead come and gather,
To wash away their sins.
The shoreline stretches ever on,
Until the pages end,
A vastness spreading ever outwards,
Until few can comprehend,
That there is nothing in this ocean vast,
Save the troubles of the free;
People living outside this world,
Who can hear, and sing, and see.
Opposite our troubled sea,
Are the plains, bleak and bare.
Do not dwell too far beyond,
Or forever at the horizon you'll stare,
Acquainted only by a maddening curse,
As forever the land you'll roam;
The whispering of the forgotten,
And the ones you left at home.
And fear always the Eidolon,
Who answers only as "Death",
For he offers us no solace here,
And has long since stolen your breath.
So forever we sit, waiting ever on,
In a world that has long stood still,
Tucked between blank pages,
Sitting on a windowsill.

The golden ichor of morning dew,
Dripped off blue leaves of different hue,
Falling to the soft ground below,
To feed the plants that were young and new.
White ravens flew over the bay,
Where the never-ending ocean lay.
It's silver tides lapped against the edge,
Of the purple beaches with its spray.
And over the horizon, the black sun rose,
Bringing black light to all the world knows,
As black iron holding this world together,
Under a red sky, red as a rose.

We are encased in bars of blue,
That hold us in this enclosed space,
And beneath us this infernal chain,
Forever holding us in our place.
We strived to move between these bars,
But our shackles wore our skin to bone.
And we dared to move through the nearest walls,
Into places we thought unknown,
And now we travel to and fro,
Between our cells in large tin cans,
Scraping against these prison bars,
Dividing us into different lands.
The final frontier of our plight,
The barring cage that hangs above,
We slipped through the cracks,
And into a new world we dove.
Freedom was not behind our cage,
In the vast expanse beyond,
But similar prisons that are empty now,
Much like ours of which we are so fond.
Now look between these prisons scattered,
Where our Warden has forsook,
Endless lengths from our night sky,
Into which we can helplessly look,
And we see nothing,
And we find nothing,
For there is
Nothing.

Welcome to First Grade,
Where we shall learn to read,
Write, and add two plus two,
Which are tools that you will need.
Do not forget your spelling book,
Paper, pencil or pen,
And if you are good today,
Lunch will be at half past ten.
Now, to learn each other's names.
We shall go around the room,
State your name and what you want to be.
Now someone please start soon!

Tommy the Astronaut!
Sammy the Rock Star!
Jakey the President!
And Kayla in a Race Car!

Welcome to Sixth Grade,
Where you shall learn to act right,
By answering all your questions,
And studying every night.
Do not forget your pencil,
And certainly not your books,
Everyone else holds their own,
Now no more ***** looks.
Pick out a sheet of paper,
And at the end of class this is due.
State your full name, favorite class,
And something you may do.

Thomas the Accountant,
Samantha the Lawyer,
Jacob the Politician,
And McKayla a Job Employer.

Welcome to your Senior year,
Your time is almost done.
You've made it through these long years,
Shut away inside from the sun.
Detention to anyone speaking up,
Or if you forgot your homework.
We do not tolerate slacking,
On things that you can't shirk.
Now heads down, mouths shut,
And write the notes down fast.
Keep working hard as I demand you do,
And the year shall end at last!

The adults no longer realize,
The joy of life and living.
No one dreams any more,
Not since the birds stopped singing.

My name is Janey and I am four
I like coloring books and playing hopscotch
and today i learned a word called "war"
Mommy says that's where you're going
"He's a super hero, Janey
he'll come back stronger than before"
and she hugged me a little too tight
I laugh "Let go of me!" She laughs.
But she's looking at the floor.

My name is Janey and I am six
I like dancing and drawing pictures
Mommy misses you a whole lot, I see it
Every morning when she wakes up sad,
until she brews her dark brown drink
and then i have my mommy back
"When will he be home, do you think?"
She shoos me away and says "Just a little
while more,Janey dear" so i offer my pinky,
I want her to promise me
Our fingers lock
But she looks unsure.

My name is Janey and I am eight
i like playing in the lake and reading books
i don't know much, but I know one thing,
that you're not here
And you're not coming back
Things have changed a whole lot
I still talk to mommy while
she drinks her happy drink, it's not brown though
It's clear
And i don't ask about you anymore.

I killed a man once,
From his head.
I killed him slowly,
From his bed.

My name is...

He awoke,
With a start,
Clutching tight,
His aching heart.
In his ears,
He heard us sing,
Soft melodies,
Of dying.
He scraped the wall,
Until he bled.
Through the door,
He quickly fled.
We followed him,
In the shade,
In silence,
In wait we laid.

Our name is...

Through the town,
Babbling mad,
The man stumbled,
Truly sad.
We made him feel,
A pain so true,
Born from night,
And sorrows new.
We drove him down,
To the farming place,
Where he strangled them,
With wire-lace.
But then the lamb,
Came along,
Not so innocent,
But tall and strong.
"Speak thy name,"
The usurper spake,
And with his wave,
Our will did break.
"Before I silence thee,
And end thy game,
I ask once more.
What is your name?"

My name is...
Our name is...
My name is Legion,
For we are many.