Never seen again,
Going and soon gone
To pipes thorough the air as steam.
Give the libations, those
You never did need, to those
Up top, they, towering kings.

Never still. You demanded to be
Going, to be gone.
To-morrow through the streets,
Let the moon guide your bilge.
You admit defeat, temporarily.
Down with humility, was your sickly hound of pride.

Never then, did the waters ever part,
Going was not so spent, or to be done.
To the shores you wept.
Turn the tide, thoughts grew in vines
Around the sun,
And you felt stronger, drunk.
Desert the power once given by me, now go on.
You were blistered from the sun, only drunk from the ***.

Harmonica and strums sail my shores
Tell my whole clan sonny, he ain't good
That I met a troller under a sycamore
He passed me all the love as he veiled

We walked around,camouflaged by leaves
Tell mummy he was a preacher's son
A soul that was open and hid it's stick
Unharmonised in accapellas I drowned

Swingers of melodic stormy strings
Tell sassy to keep her tassels tucked
To calm her tussles and noisy gongs
Shake on the octave of the beats

Whisked dreams of the lost yesterdays
Tell Jimmy to listen to her heart raise
Tie her down, bring her back home
Liberate and let her fly like a wild bird

he was a gangster in every meaning of the word
with a crew so malicious you'd think they were disturbed
they all went by dont make a thot a wife
cuase they all wanted that mario **** life.
moving bricks just to get paid
stomping anyone that gets in their way
getting some shrooms every ones in a while
and trying to get tail though luck or guile
one day, after what started as lewd innuendo
this girl put an end to his life like nintendo
an indian goddess man! she was divine
like a happy troller not a thing out of line
she was a kind engaging intellectual
but she wasn't looking for anything ******
she didn't want a bad ***
she was a girl who cared for social status
now he was no stranger to rejection
but this talk cut him off from multible babes like a c-section

she was different it felt like she was giving him a chance or

to his conundrum of a life she was the answer.
he was adam she was the forbbidan fruit
and he can't go back to the garden with a suit
but he didn't care so heworked like crazy
just to impress this amazing lady

It was past 10 pm
Indian Standard Time
And the score was
Two O Five

Klusener was the launcher
Donald was the Duck

Hansie had the fancy
That he will lift the cup
Seconds ticking
One, two, three, four, five…

Damien Fleming’s the bowler
And he’s known as a troller
Windies was the victim
Eight years ago

Steve Waugh!
The man who made Gibbs drop the cup
Stood there
Like a commander
Klusener like a slaughterer

Yorker’s the marker
To stop the nine runs needed
From the Klusener blade

NOW THE LAST OVER
ONE went for a four
TWO went for a four
Tensions flared up
We are on the proverbial Edge-of-the-seat

Steve stood there
No expression on his face
Hansie's in the pavilion
Like a warrior king

THE THIRD BALL
Damien's running like he do
Yes, bang on target
Klusener's couldn't get it off
Like the way in his earlier knocks off

One run needed in three

Just a recap again

Final over
last pair together
nine to get in six *****
player of the tournament on strike
Successive fours from Lance Klusener
and it was one from four *****

Then came the comedy
for South Africa uniquely in the game's annals
the tragedy of a tie.

Moments before it
Steve Waugh was
As cold as an Iceberg
To the Titanic of South Africa

(To be continued in next part)

Have gotten message's from other troll's, go troll in another hole,
Troll!

He has a job, he works out,
He paints, he reads,
Honesty is honestly all that he's about
He's cut, he bleeds

A writer, a fighter,
Piano player and drummer
He leaves a dark room, always a little brighter
Tennis, soccer, yes, a runner

He draws, he cooks,
He provides thoughts of insight
And yet, overlooked, dot dot dot He's a crook
Judged by those who have blind sight

Deceitful, lier,
Hypocrit, controller
Disrespectful womanizer
One ****** up troller

It's just an interesting lesson in general.  
Painting an accurate picture of societies funeral

It shows the mindset, the perception
The deception of proper conceptualization.
The inability to use context plagues our nation.

How morals are constructed by biased filters
Right and wrong determined by Twitter, the ultimate thriller.

It shows the true nature of society's situation
But hey you know this already, happy graduation.

Synopsis of existence
Truth of the universe
Beginning of all Beginnings
-all I seem to write in verse
These futile questions,
never answered to
Suffocate your mind
till' it turns blue.
Wait, does the mind...
even possess colour?
The mastermind of life
must be such a troller...
Grants us unquenchable curiosity
- a teasing curse, a monstrosity.
Us minions to unknown sorcery
Stuck living this blissful atrocity.

I recall when the word trolling lost its meaning for me
I used to read them, only young, and they were mere bullies,
Aggravators, mute as heathens in a crowded schism
Outside of some facsimilar, so-fractured cathedral
Which throws down its weakest goat to sate meat eaters

And, only young, my eyes were reading, that the heated sea
O'er breathe-a-plead, would rip a man's clothes of its histories-
I should look from the textbook as a teacher, stiff and
Of turning colors red, then white speaks "We've the primeval!
We’ll make a lesson of this computer troller!"

I recall, on the day which I learned of Nagasaki
And Hiroshima, I was young, and they were mere cities
Ambivalent or ignorant, I thought not of them, for television
Divined I look upon Godzilla, and her shadow on those people
And she could breathe in symbols, speak over meat eaters

And, on the next day, I could talk louder than any given Quasi-
Modo thing living in my school- in its townsquare dirt heaps
Where thieves met, and within which I developed egotism,
Some realer-than-thou lizard four thousand days from the fetal-
The position I'd return to had I not been awoken in an ocean that teeters

I recall, from my home, when I dreamed of planting trees
Who could gather carbon so hard they grew bags of money
I recall, in the news, discussing a new breed, a Bezosian ripple,
A change of the leaves. Wealth suddenly felt like the faces of evil
And I, of the sea-barren, most foolish of creatures

And there, I awoke. As a recessed feeler of waves on the beach
Where I felt like a desert, but looked up at those stories
Just past the condos, the quarries, and the Star of David. Arisen,
Was a God-scraping deathbringer in the craft of a steeple
Which reminded me of my days as a meat eater

I recall when the downfall of life was a guarantee
I believe the fires were first to feel our supreme quantity
Theatres were second to inform us post-division,
Your need to post memes overpowered human grief, then
Seeped into the survival instinct, and died on Pangea

But, before, from my time when I knew many heaps
Of pointless information, and empathy and insecurities
I would wait much a day for a starfull night sky, a dusty vision
Remembering me of my time when I knew not about the ocean’s ripple
Or the bombs. Or rises that be without all that falls after

I recall when the word trolling lost its meaning for me
I used to be a fast talker of untruths, of folie
And thought of this demon in the forums and the social systems
As even lower, lower than my type of canned drivel
It bleats like a goat on the steps of St. Peter

But even this thought was scattered, was taken from me
So all of my innocence would dry up in their Aries’
And Merriemic pursuits to define how to hold another in prison
Such was the troll, detained by the squawking, herd-song believers
Which, I recall, makes them but mere meat eaters