"mutiny" poems
I was in a darkness of my own
Within a night I had not known
I chose to stumble in my pace
With all hope of light misplaced
On my course a twinkle caught my eye
A lonely star in the sky above
Getting ever brighter as I drew nigh
Then did I see the truth thereof
It was a myriad in mutiny
A constellation that raided the night
Luminous in its beauty
A radiance which compelled my sight
I was in a darkness of my own
Overcome by a light unknown
That eased my path in grace
And all lost hope replaced
It reclined in the cosmos
Calling out to me
Seeming within reach almost
Then I blurred back to reality
A marvel that pulled my soul
By more than figure of speech
To be part of a whole
My flesh could never reach
How daunting a brilliance
I longed for though farfetched
My heart need travel a distance
Fear served only to stretch
It held my tarrying gaze
For only a moment more
Then left me in a daze
Stealing that which I adore
I again stumble in my pace
Having lost my stars in space
Returned to a state I now bemoan
I am in a darkness of my own.
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
Once again a still sunrise,
Quite too much to my surprise;
Now no longer the same reprise,
Never believing in fate's demise.
Once again awaits the sun,
Otherworldly; waits for none;
Terrestrial battles with wars unsung,
The time is now, and has begun.
Once waves of calamity striking the coast,
Now sinking caravels with swift riposte;
This paves the insanity to roads of most,
No graves on marvels without a host.
My ambiguous ocean, bounds not to the throes,
An effluent river asks not where it goes;
But through frigid winters it finally froze,
Yet two rigid reasons -- it once again flows.
Your guess is as mine, for nobody knows,
This mess is divine, and to us it bestows;
Thrown into disaster, yet much room for prose,
We are the ship-masters -- and everyone rows.
So set my oars down, and go for the sails,
Open your eyes, ears & mind; there is no trail;
Wandering didactic wisp you will find, futility of 'fail',
Galactic inhale, cosmic exhale, maybe then will the true path unveil.
So leave nasty mates; abandon the ship,
No mutiny required, just let the wreck tip,
As though through spread fingers they suddenly slip,
Though red feelings linger, you find your own grip.
Then leave folly habits -- straight at the shore,
Shut it & lock it, and close the **** door;
There always are options -- endless possibilities to explore,
Just activate your wings, open wide--soar.
Glad once again, for another sunset,
What you pursue is what you will get;
So forget calumet, anisette & cigarettes,
Simply don't fret -- paint vignettes with no regrets.
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 1:17 AM UTC
(for Cyril Connolly)
The piers are pummelled by the waves;
In a lonely field the rain
Lashes an abandoned train;
Outlaws fill the mountain caves.
Fantastic grow the evening gowns;
Agents of the Fisc pursue
Absconding tax-defaulters through
The sewers of provincial towns.
Private rites of magic send
The temple prostitutes to sleep;
All the literati keep
An imaginary friend.
Cerebrotonic Cato may
Extol the Ancient Disciplines,
But the muscle-bound Marines
Mutiny for food and pay.
Caesar's double-bed is warm
As an unimportant clerk
Writes I DO NOT LIKE MY WORK
On a pink official form.
Unendowed with wealth or pity,
Little birds with scarlet legs,
Sitting on their speckled eggs,
Eye each flu-infected city.
Altogether elsewhere, vast
Herds of reindeer move across
Miles and miles of golden moss,
Silently and very fast.
4.8k
i tried to stay true to the unity
tuned to every opportunity
i found my ruins in the mutiny
loose stone of the community
such a crude and brutal fluency
the futile fruits of lunacy
the pulled roots of my truancy
grew away from my community
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC
The white squirrel runs free. Outcast for it difference. You know the story, it's all the same. We are all part of a huge unity. Refrain from your judgmental gazes of pain.
Some just want to see the world burn, mutiny of humanity.Release the sophisticated animal within the. for every beast will get its turn.
The white deer in its symbol for purity is hobbling. Sadly our symbols die. lie on barren plans. questioning sanity,insane, Refrain from your judgmental gaze, try to heal the pain.The dog has it's bite, and the bee its sting. the song birds still sing.
I see ******* kindness in a forest of forgotten memories
the vast vivid wilderness of pain, is the same as the one filled with such beautiful things. run free in your unified difference. notice the worlds significance. and all the energy it aims at your brain.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
1546
Sweet Pirate of the heart,
Not Pirate of the Sea,
What wrecketh thee?
Some spice’s Mutiny—
Some Attar’s perfidy?
Confide in me.
4.3k
You sad fool. My dear, old friend
How I find myself waiting for you again.
Your eyes drive into mine, with brights on,
and you leave palpable words hanging in the air with the writings by your teeth,
without a mouth to open, just jaw clenched, no recognition of existence,
And your hands are soldering irons cooled clenched until clashing into my air
Touching time, and instantaneously heating space, as an element
Reaching Avogadro's number, ten to twenty-third
Holes appear between us.
I remember when we used to laugh
And mostly at each other,
but not as we do now.
There was no malice.
One day maybe there will be solace.
"You act as though I'm a nice guy"
So it's true you like to objectify
The object (oh, the irony) of your affection
Which is anything that cares to mention
How creative was your invention
It was not my intention to
Organize a fluidity to the scrutiny
And the staged mutiny of what was a foundation.
For it's not representative to your thumbprint.
I feel no organization here. You have ordered chaos.
Francisco,
Bring up your lights.
Just remember that you look best at night, when the moon is carved into the sky
and your real intentions revealed.
Where you sit upon that pale desk
And wrap your knuckles against the floor,
Stab with a quill the pools you leave behind,
to write your ***** recollection,
Just remember you look best when your tears catch this starlight.
Francisco, bring up your ****** lights.
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 12:02 AM UTC
it is like the many nights
sleepless
intone of light
on the tiled floor
and surreptitiously
under the
influence
wringing out poems
while looking
at
8th and 7th street
fondling darkness
like virgins on
the absolute
a mutiny of
dead cigar butts on the
corner as "kuya Louie"
passes by with a wrench
half-drunk with "Emperador"
half-mad with ars poetica.
other sense of self
somewhere brash and brazen
awash with modern
sensibilities
as this night deepens
whiter like the color
of new bones
to fledgling movements,
just like any other night.
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
If
Everything
Is to happen
The way it is to be
In the name of "Destiny"
Why should my soul in unrest
Race to a Self destructing "Mutiny"
Only to acheive a mere "Ignominy"?
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
Searching for perfection is a mad man's game
be prepared to lose it all
trying to ****** a muse into my brain
when inspiration stalls
my thoughts are running free
they often overwhelm me
all I can hear's my own self critique
and it's starting a mutiny
and now...
It's Anarchy between my ears
Fighting for control by I am overcome with fear
Joyous sadness, well-composed madness, I hold my sorrows dear
'cause it's Anarchy between my ears
Now you're at the stake and the mob is going wild
you realize that you're alone
You did this to yourself- its in your head you crazy child
only you can cut the rope
my thoughts are running free
they often overwhelm me
all I can hear's my own self critique
and its starting a mutiny
and now....
It's anarchy between my ears
Looking for some answers but I know I won't find them here
sleepless nights, pointless fights, I don't think I can steer
because its Anarchy between my ears
It's anarchy between my ears
hanging by a thread and yes I know the end is near
I won't let go, I refuse to take 'no' it's been this way for years...
It's Anarchy Between My Ears
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 4:42 PM UTC
Away, ye muses, all away!
Away with songs of finch and fay.
Away the jaundiced sight
That magnifies the firefly’s light
To bonfire bright;
That sets ablaze at once
My musing’s dimly burning lamps;
That ornaments with rhymes
The penury-stricken looks betimes;
That over-clothes the logic – lord
With fancy –swollen words.
Away, the partial love
That ‘boldens Nature to sit above
Her Maker!
This day I fasten eyelid doors,
With absence wax my ears,
With languorous peace congeal
My tongue, my touch, my tears *
That I within may pore
Upon the things behind, ahead,
In the darkness round me spread.
I lock Dame Nature out
With all her fickle rout.
Somewhere here,
In the darkness drear,
I myself with cheer
My course will steer
In the path
E’er sought by all:
Its magnet call
I hear.
Not hear, not here,
Apollo would his burning chariot steer;
Nor Diana dare to peep
Into the sacred silence deep.
Not here, not here,
Not far or near
Can mounts or rebel waves
E’er make me full of fear;
Nor evermore
Their dreadful grandeur to adore.
Not here, not here
The soft capricious wiles of flowers;
Nor swarming storm clouds’ sweeping terror,
Dishevelling the trees
And light-haired skies;
Nor doomsday’s thunderous roar,
Dismantling earth and stars-
The cosmic beauties all to mar –
Not Nature’s murderous mutiny,
Nor man’s exploding destiny
Can touch me here.
Not here, not here:
Through mind’s strong iron bars,
Not gods or goblins, men or nature,
Without my pass dare enter.
I look behind, ahead –
On naught but darkness tread.
In wrath I strike, and set the dark ablaze
With the immortal spark of thought,
By friction-process brought
Of concentration
And distraction.
The darkness burns
With a million tongues;
And now I spy
All past, all distant things, as nigh.
I smile serene
As I expose to gaze.
In wisdom’s brilliant blaze,
All charms of the Hidden Home Unseen:
The Home of Nature’s birth,
The planets’ moulding hearth,
The factory whence all forms or fairies start,
The bards, colossal minds, and hearts,
The gods and all,
And all, and all!
Away, away
With all the lightsome lays!
Oh, now will I portray
In humble way,
And try to lisp, if only in half truths,
Of wordless charms of Thee Unseen,
To whom Dame Nature owes her nature
and her sheen.
3.1k
I remember it well
As if it were yesterday
We geared up and set sail
And embarked upon unfamiliar waves
It was I captaining the vessel
With One-eyed Sven my quarter master
He could cut throats and roll pretzels
His weapon of choice was his bow caster
This wasn't a mission of plundering
That alone left the crew in a state of wondering
No, we weren't looking for buried treasure
But for sheep skin seat covers and Scandinavian leather
My first mate Mr. Obanion said to me
"Captain are we off course?"
Then my boatswain , Wiley asked sheepishly
"Aren't we going for *** and ******
I looked them in the eye at the same time
"Gentlemen, this ship is headed to Dublin"
"We're going to see a good friend of mine"
"Now get back to your swabbing and scrubbing"
This was an order of business not some sort of cruise
I'm sailing with a ship of one track minded fools
We didn't set out on a vacation of leisure
Were on the hunt for sheep skin seat covers and Scandinavian leather
I did not mean to keep them in the dark
But they would think less of me
I needed these things
For the women I married
You see we'd been on the rocks
And I know she wanted these items
So I went over the sea with a fine tooth comb
Until I had finally found them
My men had sailed endlessly for months
They were worn down and ragged
Waterlogged and exhausted
While I always came up empty handed
But I had to save my marriage
Salvage my relationship
I knew it would work
If I gave my love these gifts
We reached the golden, calling shore
Of the beautiful Dublin
From the River Liffey and headed north
My friend Seamus let me come in
I came out shaking his hand
I was satisfied with my purchase
Until I was questioned by my men
What it was we came for in our searches
I had to show them, I was under scrutiny
I pulled out two stagecoach seat covers and a pair of pants
They were enraged and called mutiny
They blindfolded me and bound my hands
Now I'm marooned on some unmapped island
And I see my ship riding that horizon
This will sadden my wife, oh how it will upset her
She will never receive her sheep skin seat covers or her Scandinavian leather
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
I stand there, avoiding the instance of your coming
letting the noise drown my thoughts
allowing the wind to remind me to move on
restricting any word to escape my mouth
But my senses always got the best of me
I feel you
My skin could not contain it's longing to be held again
I hear you
My ears immediately focus on your husky voice
I smell you
My nose has never been so familiarized to a scent
I see you
My eyes lose control but manage to cancel everyone else in the room
I almost talk to you
My mouth chokes and reminds itself that I am its master
I let this mutiny pass with the exception of my words
Restraint is our motto
But I guess I couldn't avoid the unplanned rendezvous of our eyes
You're coming closer
Your eyes filled with determination
filled with comfort
filled with happiness
While mine remain the total opposite
You comfortably say, "How are you?"
How dare you
You managed to make my mind lose it's control once again
You have manipulated it to reminisce a tormenting past
Something I thought I have trained it not to do
Ruining my scripted response of "I'm fine"
Messing up the story line in a matter of three words
My eyes are telling a story
I hope it's language is foreign to you
My eyes
I recall you saying it was my best asset
And often I would close it, an action I'm restraining at the moment
You know I closed it when you touched me
Setting my skin ablaze with the feeling of security
I closed it when you carelessly said "I love you"
Making my gullible heart get too attached
I closed it when you cuddled me
Wanting to get lost in the moment
I closed it when you kissed me
Hoping the feeling will last forever
I closed it when you stopped all these
Wondering what I was doing wrong
I closed it when you were texting someone else
Dying to know who, but afraid to ask
I closed it when you lied to me
Wishing you would take it back
I closed it when you left me
A moment tattooed in my vision
Open or closed, I see it
And others see it too
Your question remains unanswered by words
I will not close my eyes
Not this time
I'm just staring
Directly at your beautiful pair
Half-hoping you see it too
My eyes that scream "Save me"
Louder than what my lungs can reach
For this is the most effective way to respond
Everything made sense
And my senses were playing along
But you walked away naively
And what hurt me the most was the fact that
You
read
my
eyes
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
This is your reality, the brave new world;
i just hang out here:
birthed in the Cradle of Elam,
a mourning son of Baal,
smeared and anointed
with the oil from the
***** fingerprints of
countless scores of
sweaty neophytes;
carried, dropped, dented;
brought forth from eons passed,
updated for the 21st century,
gilded Krylon-gold.
This nebulous gift,
made tangible and
whole by blood,
a form fitting sacrifice,
transmogrified kudzu,
rootless, digging
talons' clutch into
our minds' construct,
seeks strength of
conviction, action.
Our ship is now
veering off course.
i must respond in kind.
i will not be led astray.
i will not have my good
intentions commandeered.
i will hijack your purpose,
screaming mutiny,
holding Occam's Razor-knife
to the throat of your jihads.
i issue a fatwa of peace,
as you once did,
before.
i renounce a kingdom of hate,
as you once did,
before.
i seek charity in effort,
as we once did,
before.
Let us rebuild.
Let us move forward.
***** a new Babel,
forsaking the sword.
Let our forks be on roads,
and not on our tongues;
a forging of union,
as we'd once begun:
My sisters, my brothers,
my family,
as one.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 7:39 PM UTC
I dont know any cool pickup lines,
I stole them from TV
Hey baby do you have the time?
You just walked away from me
Im not cool or smooth
And I'm not slick
And I need to think of something quick
He didnt write for you, that punk rock love song,
He stole it from the Byrds
He just changed the chords
And never bothered to learn the words
But he's got you hooked
Your pulse
Is racing
You know that hes a traitor
He's a one-track trouble maker
And he's rotten company
But he's got you in his sights
You're going home with him tonight
Another loveless casualty
He keeps you coming back for more but now
Hes into someone new
He changed the locks on both my doors
So I guess that means we're through
But baby dont go,
He isn't home
And I'm waiting
I know that he's a traitor
A true master debater
Such sincere insincerity
Without hesitation
Standing in ovation to
Your perfect symmetry
We'd take it slow
But we both know
He's waiting
You know that hes a traitor
Silver tounged negotiator
And he's plotting mutiny
You dont know him quite like I do
Once he's had his way, he'll leave you
To a taxi company
And he's immune to my handy remedy,
Just come inside, he asks persuadingly
But you, you're thinking of me
Just spend the night
We'll work it out
Tomorrow
You know that hes a traitor
He's a one-track trouble maker
And he's rotten company
But he's got you in his sights
You're going home with him tonight
Another loveless casualty
That little ******* part of me
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
days are swinging past
and I wish I could finally
say to you the words
hiding under my pillows,
behind doors, and
scattered on the floors
I am walking on
I wish I could say to you
that my knees aren't
the only parts of
my body that
are hurting
that sometimes when
I sit in class I sometimes
stop and stare
and my throat starts to
constrict while my
tear ducts plan
their mutiny
I wish I could tell you
that I still remember
the sound of breaking
glass and I still
imagine the moment
of the glass kissing
the ground and, yes,
I still remember
how the shards
sparkled as I sweeped
the floors
I wish I could find a
better way of saying
these words to you
just like how perfectly
arranged the bones in
my body are
I wish I could say to
you that I fantasize
about telling you these
words that are
years overdue
and, no, I am not
okay, and, no,
you're wrong when
you said that I don't
care because I do
I just don't know
how to show it
and I also know
that maybe I'm
not making sense
because the real words
have morphed
themselves into
metaphors for having
been suppressed
for so long
and maybe I'm not
making any sense at all
but
the
bottomline
of this mess
is that I want
to say that I'm
sorry I wasn't
stronger for
you and me
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 11:49 AM UTC
These are the words I pick
through thick Irish. Love
affair of some sort between
the bar tending woman and
a friend of the guest. Mitigation,
mutiny upon an S.S. Lovebird
Somewhere Sometime (world
affairs), can't blame the *******
for gazing left at the television
as he's only the messenger boy.
What is this, a medieval fantasy
novel?
I guess the name of wherever I
am and ponder how far away my
life is.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
Ballads R-U the
nourishment
Like the Bella baby
greens
Tossing your salad like
The artwork deviant
Like the myriad
The musical chairs
Messages unique piece
Playing the brain organs
The new road of legions
Cerebellum moving
Perky pinks the possum
We move into a certain era
Intense Opera breathing, pacing, dreaming
More feeding the balance of love needing
Musical digestion
Heart rate inside
your movement shows
affection
All themes like soap operas
The nervous system musical brain
Gets damaged like the Asylum
So emotional heartbeat got more
rhythm
Your hums needing tums
The Lifes crises
But not feeling
accountable the brains works
Every function ballads of love
Inside your heart diction
Like the ballad-making
Your best transformation
Orchestrated hands to lead
The musical brain
Love letters arrive on the train
So tranquil love
physical momentarily
Has a certain quality
like the ballad of love
mutiny
We find in life its a long sip
The brain wave long neck
Giraffe hot cafe
We feel everyone's tragedy
Living so high
in the (Castle) the step up
Not giving up the highness the
majesty the brain depressed
But such a parody foods for
the soul no control eating binge
You want to dodge out
But you're the musical genius
Magical brain fast and furious
Is tricky to remember you have
The talent
To be Lucky*
Fill it with love and gravity
He's the laughing stock
of the comics
Like the simple life
He's the built-in love
a ballad with such structure
The popular form of poetry
Musical notes a blend
of symmetry
Chariots of fire the key to love
Whats truly above all we need is love
He takes your breath away
Reading into the
"Britannica"
Archie comics and Veronica
Historical moments Cleopatra
The ballads of culture
Songs we remember
I love September the day I was born
Ballads and songs
"My Girl"
"Stop Look Listen to your heart"
"Love is all around"
You came to the right place
Peace and love, please
stick around we love you
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:40 AM UTC
by guess and by god, headstrong,
a recklessly charted course.
ruled by intuition and ammunition
we were captains together--but then the weather!
clouded our stars, washed away our vision, tore our sails.
my captain! i was desperate!
for you: i jettisoned my heart, threw overboard my sensibility,
let out all my rope until the Bitter End.
but you mean to abandon ship!
after all we've sailed through, and you mean to abandon ship.
you've left me with the devil to pay,
but instead i'll swallow the anchor, i'll swallow it whole.
forgive my mutiny,
but a dead captain is no captain, and the sea does own my soul.
Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 8:13 PM UTC
A babbling beauty
That's what she was
A damsel who dared
To speak her heart
Frolicking furiously
Through the gates of hell, she
Gave great new meanings
To malice and mutiny
Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 12:20 AM UTC
When I say everything is crashing to pieces,
Falling apart before my very unadulterated eyes,
I don't mean it as a metaphor.
No. I mean things are literally breaking to bits.
When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
With every step I take across this suspension bridge, I can feel the ground give way to my weight and endlessly tumble and twist toward its impending demise to the unsuspecting ground below. (Albeit, it has yet to have trouble with the racing automobiles wizzing past me with a taunting doppler)
When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
I have the Midas touch.
Only, when things come in brief contact with my fare skin, they need not turn into gold but rather chaos.
When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
With every flip of the switch comes an explosion of glass bits and fiery yellow sparks shooting awry (give my thanks to the short fuse)
When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
I attempt to live out my usual ordinary uneventful lifestyle, and I leave a wake of destruction in my route to the corner store! (Remind me to apologize to the florist- I'll have to get him some newly birthed petunias)
When I say everything is crahsing to pieces, I mean
I fear cutting onions lest the knife get fed up with being dulled by various vegitables and find its way to my throat, holding me hostage in the kitchen via blade tip to jugular
When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
I would be far from surprised if the monsters under the bed had a mutiny and overthrew their sane captain who keeps them from overturning my mattress every night, bless him
When I say everything is crashing to pieces,
Falling apart before my very mundane eyes, I don't mean it figuratively.
No. Things are literally breaking into tiny wooden splinters.
But don't you for a second dilute your mind into thinking this bothers me in any way.
I've learned to just let the pieces fall where they may
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
Gnomes out back who fuss and moan,
The weeds are too high they continue to groan,
I feel for them I really do,
But they know I am busy with so much too.
Ungrateful resin folk who cop an attitude about a few colorful sprigs,
Despite the fact they live in such lavish digs.
So some spiky ends of greenery may tickle their noses,
While they continue to hold their impish poses.
In fact I am planning a surprise for their flower bed,
Rainbow rock pebbles and new mulch will soon be spread,
Plus multiple squirts of weed-be-gone,
Next week you'll see a whole new lawn.
As I shell out more loot to keep this bit of paradise lovely-
I keep my eyes wide open for signs of impending mutiny.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
When I was little
I read Goodnight moon every night.
And I'd goodnight kiss my bed.
And my door.
And my rocking chair.
And the floor.
And then I'd set up four little stuffed animal guards,
Back to back,
To watch the four walls of my room.
So that all the demons couldn't get to me.
They were my troops.
If I closed my eyes,
The ceiling was made of raindrops,
Frozen still.
But they weren't cold.
If I layed flat on my back,
I could hear the sound of my guards talking.
Mutiny they said.
They were going to over throw me.
They had secretly been the demons the whole time.
Those sneaky little ********
So I crushed them under the weight of my toys,
That very second.
And the next day I pierced all their ears with a bidazler.
And I drew them tattoos.
I made them the thugs they wanted to be.
They didn't like it.
Repented for their sins.
But I used no crayola.
Punishment is a sharpie,
I had told them that before.
And that was the night I realized
I'm so much stronger than the demons.
I do not need a guard.
Goodnight moon.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 12:07 AM UTC
My dear, it rained last night
And I remember
The alleviated rise into
Lush sobs and lavish emotions
The way your dilatation relieves
Every worry and anxiety
But sometimes when we speak
A violent lie radiates
And last night you were naught
But an alienated virile sot
A view unholy I omit
I remember the tin roses on the tiles
Devastated, shattered.
Sometimes you hum
Your hands delicately miming secret memos
And I can see it in your eyes
Irises shining like teal devils
And the music carries you
White with adrenaline, pupils likes violists
Headwaiters lie, strumming tin violins
Their alienated visions wilted with passion
I see the way she cleverly conceals
Lies as vows to you
A veil called "us" she puts on "me"
And I call for mutiny
But youth is vim, vim is now, and now is lies
Every hug from you is just a violet whim
In noisy rooms
My vision is misty
My aura dies little,
Oh if only you could realize your reign
You’re the master, the ringleader
But you’re lazy; you work without zeal, you’re idle and lazy
Eyes glazed, agile hands getting greedier
Have you ever seen
A dearer lion?
He roared, the lonesome rider
Alone, an alien.
Well sometimes you lie
And I dare to become
An oral denier
My radar detects one lie,
Then two...
You become red
Redder than a ****** lion's ear
Adieu, you say, with a gently undefined lilt
My tears speak more reality than your words
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC