In contemporary belief.
A archer went to a shaman for relief.
A answer to ease fear of thoughts.
Finding his way home, the trail of war became too much.
He struggled with the regret of building a life away from what he knew.
When he came to the shaman.
The shaman hung his head low.
Smelling the stinch of blood.
Still he could not turn his back to the archer.
When posed with the young archers question.
He sat puzzled. Summering the long winded statement to "a great change must be made. Else all will fade."
Knowing of the young archers longing for a maiden.
The archer looked puzzled.
Yet the shaman spoke nothing else.

The young archer was called upon.
A war broke on the opposing side.
They needed his skill in fear that survival was utmost.
Without time to think the archer grabbed his bow. His arrows and darted quickly in the direction the war has taken place.
He quickly coiled arrow to bow. In repeated motion until none were left.
A field of arrows covered the small space.
War does something to a man.
A brief clarity after the slaughter of contemplation.
The shamans words dawned upon him like a snake.
He darted to the shamans place in great discoverly.
Finding that the shaman as well as his possessions were completely gone without trace.
He darted back to the field.
Searching through a forrest of arrow.
A heart wrenching feeling stuck on his face.
Guiding his way through the arrows he found a familar hand. Connected to a familar torso.
A face stuck in agonizing eternity.
The shamans words made more sense.
Backing away from the body.
Thinking deeply. Damning his hands.
The thing that came as habit.
He broke his bow in the reflection of his maiden's eyes.
This war gone astray inside of him

Truth cries as I lie
I lay down with the fantasy taking control of my life
I don't stop to look up for you no I,
Keep going further in my head where the stinch of fairytales buzz in my bed
How I love when there dead.
Then I can go to sleep in my bed
Without the dreams and this mess,
I hope this sleep be the end and I wake up to your fence
White pearly gates as the open
I'm looking now in amazement

My words has a stinch, therefore it lingers
Lingers into your mind and continue to stay
Lingers until new words approach and blossoms
The lingering effect

I'm taking sweet precaution
My heart is like a roaring ocean.
***** like a dead possum
The stinch of my hands make me so noctious.
I'm sick of doing what makes me foolish,
Sleeping with myself got me waiting for hell in a hamachi.
That's suicide well...if I can manage.
Please all my friends have walked out on me! Please don't leave me you complete me like meat in a sandwich.
These days are full of poor people counting there talent.
But what's talent if you don't have nobody to count on to see it?
Forgive me for everything I have done I need you more then I know it.

I'm my on poison,
And I know it.
God you wasn't joking when you said I can't help it but you can help me..
Even if I do everything for them,
It pleases me but it's not pleasant

you can taste the dishonesty it's all over your breath from the time drips threw the sun into my bedroom my eyes dont remember your scent not even a stinch... for my heart is to sold for questions and my mind is shattered into little pieces I eat at night and I'm back waiting on the sun to drop so I might get up from this spot I've been in for 3 months.. geezzz just live zeal just

Sweat, heavy breaths.
Spikes on grass.
Spears and other gear.

Faster, Better, in sync with the atmosfere.
Cheering and Clapping
Singing an outworn cheer

Your own heart pounding....
Waiting for the hard cracking of a gun.

Like Horses galloping In circles we Trot with pride.
Till one of us brakes the line.

Later in the bus
The stinch of sweat and Adrenaline fulls the air.
A clutter of Giggles and cries.
A speaker its all I hear.
Once again we sing as one for the remaining trip back to where we belong.

Things seem so fake
I seem so fake.
Days run on Days
I run on Grace.
So close to hell
Man the Stinch of the place.
The stinch of my pride
I’ll be lying if I’m not scared inside.

I’m not Suicidal but sometimes I wanna die,
If Love is the Prize, If life is Wise
God is True and Every man is a lie
Then Forgive me Belove for letting my life be a lie.

im Mad, sad and can’t figure out  why I keep thinking bout you ...
Is  it the regret that’s eating me alive?
Or the silence of your solitude.
Is it the stinch of a relationship the died like 2 to 3 years ago?
Or this peanut butter sandwich that’s really not fulfilling me
It feels like I’ve been hit in the “testies”