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Hal Loyd Denton Oct 2012
I found myself in a desert the sun beat down relentlessly you see I was just one more fool living on the
Devil’s life plan he comes and sizes you up watches with intensity not of care but hate he doesn’t take
Long he has seen the same thing multiplied many times before he does a little razz and dazzle if you
Could have seen my face you would know how appealing it was oh that’s right you got the same
Treatment you see this desert is where he houses all of his captives it’s so wide and vast the thought is
Who’s trapped but we are like the icy ice berg but with us it’s the conscious like the tip then the
Subconscious is all that mass the true awe and power of being human I want to insert two pieces I wrote
That deals with the subconscious I believe you will benefit from them just one more person’s thoughts
On Such a grand subject
Piercing the Inner Sanctum
The trivial the less important will never even get a start into the bastion of peace and well being that is
Sacred and defended to the last breath the one irresistible caller that is never barred and who is as a
Master key is beauty to no avail can you post guards loveliness has no comparisons like spectacle in any
And all forms it governs and rules all of our hearts once seen the invitation is never with drawn like the
Vistas seen from a high mountain incomparable glory is touched sequestered in depths of appreciation
Moments of grandeur with this spell compression is ultimate the thick richness slowly sinks beyond all
Comprehension it will linger for a life time the blues are the high honor of dress befitting a person of
Rare quality to have and squander cherished gifts the emptiness can never be measured but to make
Contact with the sublime on a desert plane the one invaluable gift of solitude no pretense or frivolity
To cause error or a missed chance to speak and hear wonders undeniable voice that is attended by rare
Essences of tranquility that robes itself in splendor it beckons in pure language simplicity that astounds
Bewilderment of the highest order lodges in your soul the hush of holy beings are noticed if only by the
Assured peace that builds a walled fortress nothing can assail these attainments visited and began
By The unutterable beauty that moves with conscious and deliberate design to bestow upon you
The Perfection that once ruled in Eden

Now deeper the mind seeks to find the way where all rules are absent

Bedazzled Dreamer
Put the long boat in the deep waters of the mind the calm peaceful knowing all is glowing we glide not
Knowing where were going the subconscious will be our guide dividing the two worlds the quiet
Submersible is wild anything may be floating in these depths we have left shore far behind truly
We have entered unchartered waters there is no fixable Bering a lustiness takes over there is no helm
Just a pervading looseness not unsettling but truly uncharacteristic for the coconscious must always
Have a grip a grasp of what is where it is and every detail must be quantified now all senses are blown
A storm is brewing its far reaches unknown but there is softness that excludes fear the overriding
Thought is possibilities can be forged maximized eternalized thoughts are ghost like unknown entities
They were formally known but now remain a mystery dislodged from thought bases that are not solid
All is free association tantalizing in one sense then disconcerting in another what do I do with my mind
Surly it has jumped off the track I could be bewildered if I could get a hold on the situation free flowing
Unspoken but still distinctively saying volumes where is the slow button reams voluminous thoughts
Are spewing into nothingness being lost I can’t keep up the discernible is mixed with eons and theorems
Time and space is void of meaning the world here is elastic mass it convulses at will no parameters exist
The only thing constant is high velocity change being in one place is impossible all is jumbled who stirred
This caldron in my mind voice and pure thought are the same think it know it what burdensome lives we
Live when it is all a tattered sail on rough seas we behold nothing know nothing in the extreme
Romanticism blurts out sail for Trafalgar we are strangers in a plush gifted void try as we will there is
No simple answers but we are a simple people truly the only time were are fit is when we are
Sound Asleep well then sleep on and I will do the same dreaming is therapeutic just think how
Crazy we would be without it

So with that small insight this is more truth I signed my life away to the devil and here is the fun
Part it’s like your hardly comfortable on a computer your on this small frame here he is on a
Worldwide super computer and he is a **** like no other you are slowly crawling along he is  
Miles Ahead of you try to strike order in life this answer comes back it has been high jacked its
Not even your thoughts any more it’s completely contrary to all that is decent and ideal but it
Comes as a fog it creates a state of disinformation this is how we find we are bound in half truths  
In this state how far from love how desperate is our circumstances what caused and allowed
Us to be left to the dry treacherous land of being forgotten misplaced without remedy to know the dark
Embrace of loneliness we are a people of language it finds us it speaks health to our inward being it is
The gentle soothing the spell that alone provides the structure the melodious times hear the flow of
Refreshing water from hidden springs they bend at just the right place they find us where dark
Broodings Are pulling us into compromise and ruin we feel and taste the surety of joy the call of
Assuredness is known in these depths this internal dismay of mazes infernal are their crushing blows
Does it wash away the meaningful is the face of grace seen to be drowning in walled in terrain to high to
Climb to understanding that enlightening that is our very humanness our ability to connect to share
Never forgetting who and where we came from the integral foundation that builds us as a people was
This first dislodging the first steps of chaos the hardness that drives and separates to quickly we are
Adrift and at the stern is ego without measure and the seeds of discontent are what we are sowing not
The creative roots of harmony and good will burned black by the desert sun all descriptors fail to show
The unique the part that truly was wondrously made no one is looking they are only into the new
Exciting theses very words are the quiet assault that is aimed at them they need restored but they never
Will agree then a nanny kills two little ones in her charge stabs them to death with this insane step into
Yet deeper subterranean darkness the roots of life are growing but they are poisoned throughout it
Reflects on the service the body is racked twisted as a gnarled old tree that can look picture perfect in
Nature but terrible in human life in this state of waste and need of restoration I could hardly see who
Cares at that point the view is most disgusting and in this condition all hope lost the final boat has sailed
With it the last of human dignity goes under the deep black waves when this thought was strongest the
Sea was not my reality only the lifeless desert it was all there was but all of a sudden was it mind tricks a
Mirage I was seeing this beautiful bough filled with blossoms and from there it continued to grow and
Spread out before me all green grasses a profusion of glorious colored flowers of all kinds it started to
Break through the deadness of my mind a time long forgotten slowly started to emerge I couldn’t see
Anyone but I knew that a visitor had joined me tears started like a dam had broken somewhere deep
With in all I knew I was truly loved I had worth and value I could feel it being added anew where I was
An eye sore just moments before now I was a princely person I had this intense sense of whoever it was
Who joined me had known extreme suffering He got me on every level and he was repairing and
Restoring those long festering wounds they just seem to fall off and the greatest peace started to emit
From my inner being there was just a sense of well being that was mountainous and truly rivers of joy
Started to flow out and away my friends step into these words they come from the great restorer your the gift that the thief stole and now you have been reclaimed
Jessie Nov 2013
I am a white, Jewish girl from Florida.
Hit me.
Hit me with your white girl jokes,
Your Jewish American Princess stereotypes.
I will giggle and squeal right along with you.
Because yeah,
I do order white chocolate mocha frappuchinos from Starbucks,
I Instagram pictures of my nails,
I take selfies, whiten my teeth, straighten my hair,
Shop at Forever21 and drink Naked Juice like it is my job.
Yeah, my daddy buys me things,
I don’t pay for my data plan,
There’s no way in hell I would drive a sedan,
I wear Nike shorts and avoid any nearby cameraman,
And let me tell you, I love jamming out to old school Britney Spears.
Hit me one more time, because none of that means I am any less intelligent,
Any less diligent,
Any less likely to face judgment
Than any other slice of diversity around me –
I am a white, Jewish girl
My nose is not its own cartoon,
I eat bagels (but I absolutely hate lox),
I’m not tan or even the least bit tinted,
And god knows I don’t wear Uggs.
Tell me I need to get married young,
Major in business,
Wear clothes that leave me airless,
Get some of that European gracefulness,
But don’t tell me I’m dumb.
Don’t tell me I’m not thoughtful.
I’m a white girl.
Take a glance at my resourcefulness,
Understand my goals of being ambitious,
Get rid of your own stereotype-inducing cockiness,
And notice me in all of my flawlessness.
Because I am a white girl,
And I am unique, strong, inventive,
Empowered, passionate, adventurous,
Indomitable, unbeatable.
I am an individual –
Not part of some whole that you put me in to stabilize your mold,
Not the example of a societally scatterbrained ***** meant to be your centerfold,  
Not a previously worn-out piece of clothing thrown to the gutter unsold,
Rather a human being of my own rules and my own morals
A human being with ideas and intelligence and power,
A white, Jewish girl,
A person.
Ourfirstfarewell Nov 2014
Upon the ocean rests my heart.
How unique when soul and corpse are set apart...
My body lifeless without a voice of reason
And lifeless I'll remain until that final season.
When my soul will arrive back here
And hush the voices that remind me of my fear.

Upon the ocean rests my heart.
A boy I loved before the start
This is temporary pain
But the longing in my heart is a passion to remain
In my depths until my soldier comes back home
When my empty house won't seem so alone.

Upon the ocean rests my heart.
My love for him a sacred art.
I knew he was leaving
But my heart keeps believing
That I'll some day be his wife.
He is my pride and joy; my life.
I don't know if he loved me then,
But I know when I see my soldier home again,
He'll be my Hero now and forever,
Regardless of land or sea, there's nothing like "together".

Upon the ocean rests my heart.
And tonight I'll ask the sea
as the sky looks down on me,
Protect my soldier from every danger,
And keep my loneliness a distant stranger.
Bring him home, bring him back to me,
But for now, my delicate heart rests upon the sea.
Emily Kaminski Oct 2014
Your fur is a silent shadow.
Yet soft as silk.
Your eyes of emerald crescent moons,
hold so many stories.
Stories of lives you've encounter and lives you had before.
And it's the biggest expressions you have to show.
When you walk,
no one hears you.
Just only the bell you wear around your neck.
You sneaky shadow.
Your meows tries to be as clear as our language.
Your purrs are endless.
Your spirit never dies.
It feels like you'll live for all eternity.
You chose the ONE person that you'd like to belong too.
And ONLY that person you obey.
Like a dog; you might have in you.
You hunt 'gifts' for your owner.
In show of your love and appreciation.
You made sure that when people look at you,
they look at you as a human being.
Sometimes you know what's best.
You can read the characters in people.
whether they're bad or good.
You're just a simply unique cat.
---------------------------------
I'm glad I have you in my life.
After all the years we had eachother, I ask myself at times:
"What am I without you?"
In early 2000s my old man and I went to the animal shelter to get a pet(as my birthday gift).
My dad chose the one who gave his back to the world, as in gave up on himself. He was prepared to be put down(age of 3).
We gave him a chance and he gave me his lifetime(still on going) of  happiness and partnership.
I hope he serves JUSTICE to this world, or else it would be a waste of the name that was given to him(already) when we got him.
I'm glad that you belong to me,
Batman~ ->w<-
serina lewis May 2019
‘poetry is unfair
for those who’ve arrived late,
there’s no new words left out there
poetry is stressful
because how can the english language expect us to wrap our souls into just a handful?
poetry is rude
feelings have to sound pretty
though life is actually quite crude
poetry is limiting
there’s only so much paper, lead, and ink
and there’s never been enough to get across what i think
poetry is too demanding
forcing our thoughts, our dreams, and our plethora of feelings,
to make some sense
to appeal to others
to stay within the coherent fence
and poetry is competitive, a jealous ***** at that
we’re all so rushed to send our souls into combat
because the last thing we’d want is to be deemed a copycat,
it seems to me that we all crave is to be deemed something or someone, as long as it’s “unique”
poetry is confusing
because in all reality, each soul has of languages its own variety,
and value to society
it matters how we speak
but not with the languages you can learn from a dictionary
it’s the ones deep inside us, that you may not be hearing
that tell who we are
both pretty parts and scary
but who is poetry to expect me to know when someone is forest green, though appear seafoam?
i’m pretty spot on when it comes to my colors
i’m still scared so it’s rare that i voice them to others
because poetry is contradictory
for example, i know i’m not the only one in the world who’s got colors in their head, chaotically swirled, or at least that’s what i hope
but whether or not there’s someone wandering near,
feeling lilac tunes passing also through their ears,
their poems to mine could be completely opposite
to me, yellow’s eminent
but to them, possibly irrelevant
and it’s so **** frustrating
because we can’t all be right, can we?
society picks their favorites
and the rest of us are negated, painfully invalidated’
this form of art, this way of life is so unrealistic that it should fill me with strife
but it doesn’t
and there’s a reason why

because poetry is fair
be the first or the last,
the whole point is to share, we were not put here to strip others bare
use whatever there is that takes ahold of your soul,
who cares if it’s new, used, broken, or old?
it came from you, from your entity it poured
this arrangement of words, feelings, and selves
they’ve never seen this before
poetry is a release
it’s gifting to you the stitch to your seams that’s been slowly tearing, the most recent cause of your despairing
for me, when i’m writing, it stitches me up with each letter from my cup becoming a word that becomes a phrase, one step closer to the glory days
when the english language will lose it’s power
and no longer have my soul in a haze
the english language is over exaggerated
we treat it with such respect
and tell ourselves it has something of us to expect
but it’s just letters, syllables, and sounds
it has no real power over us and by that i mean
it holds  us to no real bounds
poetry is real
all it is, is what we feel
and when we feel, there are no obligations
there’s no “should” or “shouldn’t”
you don’t have to keep up some fake reputation
feelings don’t have to be pretty
and life doesn’t have to be crude
your truth is your truth
so just write, and to yourself don’t allude
poetry is limitless
because while you may run out of space on that page, and yes it’s annoying to not have a place to keep going, you’re not confined to a cage inside your notebook lines
you don’t need the pencil lead to know that there’s something going on in your head
paper is limited
but we,
our souls,
we’re infinite
poetry doesn’t ask for much
just that were true and we do it for us
“to make sense” is too generalized of a concept
being as “sense” means something entirely different to all of us
i’ve had a problem with coherency, it’s never really agreed with me
but that’s only because i’ve convinced myself that i need to convince others
and that is impossible
people will see what they see and they’ll believe whatever they think you mean when you show them your poetry
but no amount of explaining is going to give someone else your eyes
you can try all you want to appeal to the crowd
you can scream what you really mean, but it doesn’t matter how loud
they’ll take it as they need to
so you might as well just write it all for yourself
poetry is confusing
and you’re never going to fully logically understand a poem that didn’t come from your hand
but that’s not the point, never was
the point was to put most things on pause,
and listen without your ears
to be able to hear somebody else’s “because”
poetry alone does not have rules
it’s our tedious brains and overwhelming insecurities that give these common misconceptions their fuel
“unfair, stressful, rude, limiting, demanding, competitive, confusing, and contradictory”
these are all words we throw, at ourselves and the art, when we’re scared
and our self-esteem is falling apart
and we’re worried we’ve done something wrong
but in art,
when you truly identify with whatever it was you felt enough to amplify,
you can’t fail
this form of art,
this **** way of life,
this ******* paradise
is one of the best reasons that i am alive
and why i’m able to do so much more than just simply survive
i'm not hating on poetry obviously, just keep reading till the end<3
Helina Nov 2018
Love every inch
Love ever curve and scar
Love the body that carries your soul
The soul that thinks there should be a goal,
a goal to be perfect
Because the World has told it so

They say you're too skinny
Then they tell you you're fat
Your mind wants to blow
What have we done to our world though?
Why want us to suffer mentally?
living up to societies expectations
Fake photos, and photoshopped *******
Why make us all follow their fake idea of perfection?

I am more than just what meets the eyes,
No one else has my skin, my body, my hair, my mind and me all together
I'm unique as I am
I will ignore their definitions of "beautiful",
Not going to hide under pounds of makeup,
Not going to hate myself for not looking more like them,
and not going to hide from the world
I WILL BE BOLD AND GO,
Let them all see who i want to BE, instead of the mask they wanted to see
The mask covering up the real ME
I will stand up straight,
I will keep my head up high,
For me and all of society
Praying one day, this will all be over with
That we will stop defining "beauty"
I will fight for our right,
Our right to live as how we are made
No more being afraid
Kareena Apr 2016
I see less and less of you each day
At least that's what you told me last time you weighed
I notice your scapula prickling through a shirt
I can't tell you otherwise even if it does hurt

Because telling you I'm suffering would make you feel less
I can't completely understand, it's only my guess
That your smile is a disguise, it's your precious defense
If I could only sneak into your mind and teach you some sense

But no word I could utter would be new or unique
All I can do is sit here and wipe tears from your cheek
Just hug you tight in our tilt-a-world ride
Because everyone needs a friend by their side

I'm scared you won't change, you can't bring yourself to
I can see the way it's ripped apart and mortified you
Your body is scarily shrinking, striking and dissipating
And all I can do to help change is sit here waiting

They say that life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death
But you seem to live it, grasp its size and its breadth
I wish you could see your worth in another's eyes
It's your humor, your vibrance, but never your size
We can never make others change unless they want to.
RAJ NANDY Jul 2016
Dear Poet Friends, our World today & especially Europe is threatened with terrorism from the religious fundamentalist groups like the ‘IS’ ! History teaches us that during the Middle Ages the Holy Crusades were launched with the combined forces of Christendom. May be History is repeating itself once again within a span of thousand years! Do kindly read with patience this True Story of the Holy Crusades in Verse, to see events in its proper historical perspective. Concluding portion as Part Two has also been posted here. You will find the portion on ''Motivation & The Medieval Mind'' to be interesting! Kindly take your time to read at leisure. No need to comment in a hurry please! Thanks, - Raj

               STORY OF THE HOLY CRUSADE: (1096-1099)
                                           PART ONE

                                       INTRODUCTION
For thousands of years the Holy Lands of Palestine on the eastern coast
of the Mediterranean Sea had witnessed,
Ferocious battles fought between the Christians, Jews, and the Muslims,
with much bloodshed;
For a strip of land few hundred miles in length and varying between some hundred miles in breadth,
Which they all righteously defended!
There the Ancient City of Jerusalem now stands as a World Heritage Site,
Sacred to the three of World’s oldest Religions and as their pride!
Jerusalem today is a symbol of unity amidst its religious diversity;
For on its Dome of the Rock, in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and the Synagogues, are etched thousand years of Ancient History.
In 1096, Pope Urban the Second, motivated Christendom and launched the First Holy Crusade,
To liberate Jerusalem from 461 Years of MUSLIM dominance!
Some Historians have listed a total of Nine Crusades in all,
And I commence with the FIRST, being the most important of all;
For it recaptured Jerusalem from the Seljuk Turks making it fall. (in 1099AD)
While subsequent Crusades did not make any appreciable dent at all!
Not forgetting the THIRD, led by King Richard ‘The Lion Heart’, -
Who made the Turk leader Saladin to agree,
For Christian pilgrims to visit the Holy shrines in Jerusalem and the Hills of Calvary.
The Crusades began towards the end of the 11th Century lasting for almost Two hundred years;
Had later turned into a tale of sorrow and tears!
Now to understand the Crusades in its proper perspective let us see,
The brief historical background of Europe during the early parts of
Second Millennium AD.

                         A BRIEF HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
The Normans:
During the first century of the Second Millennium, Europe was in a formative stage,     (11th Century AD)
It had began to emerge from its long period of hibernation called the ‘Dark Age’!
The Viking raids from those northern Norsemen had ceased subsequently,
As they became Christian converts settling in Northern France in the Duchy of Normandy.
In 1035 when Robert the Devil, 5th Duke of Normandy died on his way
to Jerusalem during a Holy Pilgrimage;
His only son William, who was illegitimate, was only seven years of age.
By 1063 AD these Norman settlers had intermingled and expanded their lands considerably,
By conquering Southern Italy and driving the Muslims from the Island of Sicily.
And in 1066 Robert’s son William shaped future events, -
By defeating King Harold at Hastings and by uniting England.
Now William the Conqueror’s eldest son Robert the Duke of Normandy,
Participated in the First Holy Crusade, which has become both Legend
and a part of History!
These Normans though pious, were also valiant fighters,
And became the driving force behind the Crusades from 11th Century
onward !

                     MUSLIM CONQUEST AND EXPANSION
After the death of Prophet Mohammad during 7th Century AD,
Muslim cavalry burst forth from Arabia in a conquering spree!
They soon conquered the Middle East, Persia, and the Byzantine
Empire;
And in 638 AD they occupied the Holy city of Jerusalem and
Palestine entire!
Beginning of the 8th Century saw them crossing the Gibraltar Strait,
To occupy the Iberian Peninsula by sealing ruling Visigoth’s fate!
Crossing Spain soon they knocked on the gates of Southern France,
When Charles Martel in the crucial Battle of Tours halted their rapid
advance!  (Oct 732 AD)
By defeating the Moors, Martel confined them to Southern Spain,
And thereby SAVED Western Europe from Muslim dominance!
Charles Martel was also the grandfather of the Emperor Charlemagne.
The Sunni–Shiite split over the true successor of Prophet Muhammad,
and other doctrinal differences of Faith,
Had weakened the Muslim Empire till the Mongols sealed their fate!

                         THE SELJUK TURKS
Meanwhile around Mid-eleventh Century from the steppes of Central Asia,
Came a nomadic tribe of Seljuk Turks and occupied Persia!
In 1055 they captured Baghdad and took the Abbasid Caliph under their Protectorate.
The Persian poet Omar Khayyam, and the great Rumi the mystic sage,
Had also flourished during this Seljuk Age!
In 1071 at the Battle of Manzikirt the Seljuks defeated the Byzantines
and occupied entire Anatolia,     (now Turkey)
And set up their Capital there by occupying Nicaea!
Deprived of their Anatolian ‘bread basket’ the Byzantine Emperor
Alexius Comnenus the First,
Appealed to Pope Urban II to save him from the scourge of those
Seljuk Turks!
The Seljuk Turks had also occupied Jerusalem and entire Palestine,
And prevented the Christian pilgrims from visiting its Holy Shrines!
The Seljuk, who converted to Islam, became staunch defenders of the
Muslim faith,
And played an historic role during the First Two Holy Crusades!

THE CHURCH AND THE SECULAR STATE (11th Century) :
The ecclesiastic differences and theological disputes between Western (Latin) and Eastern(Greek Orthodox) Church,
And the authority over the Norman Church at Sicily;
Resulted in the Roman and Constantinople Churches
ex-communicating each other in 1054 AD!
This East-West Schism was soon followed by the ‘Investiture Controversy’,
Over the right to appoint Bishops and many other doctrinal complexities;
Between Pope Gregory VII and the Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV  
of Germany.
Here I have cut short many details to spare you some agony!
Pope Gregory was succeeded by Pope Urban the Second,
Who was a shrewd diplomat and a great orator as Rome’s Papal Head.
Pope Urban seized this opportunity and responded to the Byzantine
Emperor’s desperate call,
Hoping to add lands to his Papal Estate after the Seljuk Turks fall!
Also to reign in those errant knights and warlords, -
Who plundered for greed and as mercenaries fought!
And finally, by liberating Jerusalem as Christendom’s Religious Superior,
Pope Urban hoped to assert his authority over the Holy Roman Emperor!
It is therefore an unfortunate fact of History, that the news of re-conquest of Jerusalem failed to reach Italy;
Even though Pope Urban died fourteen days later,
on the 29th of July, in 1099 AD!

                 MOTIVATION AND THE MEDIEVAL MIND
The Medieval Age was the Age of Faith, which preceded the Age of Reason;
A God-centred world where to think otherwise smacked of treason!
It is rather difficult for us in our Modern times,
To fully comprehend the Early Medieval mind!
The Church was the very framework of the Medieval Society itself,
With their Monasteries and Abbeys as front-line of defence
against Evil;
While combating the deceptions and temptations of the Devil!
It was a mysterious and enchanted Medieval World where superstition
and ignorance was rife;
Where with blurred boundaries both the natural and the supernatural
existed side by side !
When education was confined to the Clergy and the Upper Class of
the Society exclusively;
In such a world the human mind was preoccupied with thoughts
of Salvation and piety;
And in an afterlife hoping to escape the pains of Purgatory!
So in Nov 1095 at the Council of Clermont in France,
When Pope Urban II made his clarion call to liberate the
Holy Lands from the infidels,
The massive congregation responded by shouting, “God Wills It”,
‘’God Wills It’’,  - which echoed beyond France!
The Crusade offered an opportunity to absolve oneself of sins,
And to even die a martyrs death for a Holy cause, which motivated
them from within!
Now for actual action kindly read the Concluding portion,
I tried to make it short and crisp!


    STORY OF THE HOLY CRUSADE : CONCLUSION
                                 PART TWO

THE  PEASANT’S CRUSADE (April-Oct 1096) :
Even before the First Crusade could get officially organized,
A Peasant’s Crusade of around forty thousand took-off,
taking Pope Urban by surprise!
When these untrained motley body of men led by the French
Lord Walter Sans Avoir, and Peter Hermit reached Constantinople;
They disappointed Emperor Alexius, who for seasoned Norman
Knights had bargained.
So Alexius ferried them to Anatolia across the Bosporus Strait,
Only to be massacred there by the hardy Seljuk Turks who sealed
their fate!
Thus ended the Peasant’s Crusade, also known as “The People’s
Crusade’’.
But Peter the Hermit survived as he had returned to Constantinople
for help,
And participated with the main Crusade, motivating them till the
very end,
With his sermons and prayers till their objectives were attained!

THE CRUSADE LEADERS AND THEIR ROUTES:
Now let me tell you about those Crusade Leaders and their routes,
For this true story to be better understood.
In the Summer of 1096 French nobles and seasoned knights,
along with Bishop Adhemar the Papal Legate,
Set out in large contingents by land and sea routes, forming the
Christian Brigade!
Their rendezvous point being Constantinople, capital of the
Byzantine Empire,
And from there across the Bosporus to enter Turkey then known
as Anatolia;
To finally take on the Seljuk Turks, in response to the request  
made by Emperor Alexius.
Raymond the IV of Toulouse, the senior-most and richest of
the Crusaders,
Was an old veteran who had fought the Moors in Spain was one of
the Crusade leaders.
He brought the largest army and was accompanied by the Papal Legate, and his wife Elvira,
And later played a major role in the siege of Antioch, and Nicea.
Raymond along with the veteran and pious bachelor knight
Godfrey of Bouillon, who became the First Ruler of Jerusalem
after its capture and fall;
Was accompanied by Godfrey’s ambitious brother Baldwin and
a large contingent, -
They followed the land route to Constantinople.
The fierce Norman knight Bohemond of Taranto, along with
Robert II Duke of Flanders, and the Norman knights from
Southern Italy,
Followed the sea route to Byzantium from the Italian port of Bari.
I have mentioned here only a few, to cut short my story!
At Constantinople Emperor Alexius, administered a Holy Oath of
allegiance to the Crusade Leaders;
Hoping to win back his captured lands after the defeat of the
Seljuk Turks.

THE SIEGE OF NICEA (14th May – 19th Jun 1097) :
This captured Byzantine City was then the Seljuk Capital;
With 200 towers its mighty walls was a formidable defence!
Emperor Alexius sent his army to help the Crusaders in the siege,
And by blockading the food supply lines the city was besieged;
In the absence of the City’s ruler who had gone on a campaign
to the East, -
Alexius’ Generals secretly worked out a negotiation of surrender
and peace!
The Crusaders were angry and felt they were being cheated,
But Alexius gave them money, horses, and gifts to get them
compensated!
On the 26th of June the Crusader army was split into two contingents,
And the Turks ambushed and surrounded the vanguard led by Bohemund the Valiant.
Turk cavalry shooting arrows mauled part of the vanguard,
When the rearguard of Godfrey, and Baldwin charged in
and rescued them from the Turks!
Historians call this the Battle of Dorylaeum;  (1st Jul 1097)  
It was the first major battle  which provided a taste of
things to come!

SIEGE OF EDESSA:
Next a three month’s long and arduous march followed
under the sweltering Summer’s heat,
When five hundred lost their lives due to sheer fatigue!
Baldwin lost his wife God Hilda, a rich heiress;
Now with all her wealth going back to her blood line
as per tradition of those days,
Placed ambitious Baldwin under great mental and financial
distress!
So Baldwin with a few hundred knights headed East for the
rich Christian city of Edessa,
With intentions of claiming it as his own after the loss of his
wife Hilda!
The citizens there backed Baldwin and gave him an Armenian
Christian lady to be his wife,
And against their old childless Ruler Thoros, they plotted to
take his life!
It was not a great start for the idealism of the Crusade,
Since motivated by greed Baldwin had carved out his own
State;
While Edessa also became the First State to be established
by the Holy Crusade!

THE SIEGE OF ANTIOCH  (21 Oct 1097- 02 Jun 1098) :
Antioch was an old Roman city built around 300 BC,
Its six gates and towers fortified the city.
Its formidable walls were built by the Byzantine Emperor
Justinian the First,
And twelve years prior to the arrival of the Crusaders,
Antioch had got occupied by the Turks!
In the absence of a Centralised Command, the Crusade leaders
frequently argued and quarrelled;
Since the majority preferred a siege, so Antioch got finally
surrounded.
When food supply ran short during the winter, both
starvation and desertion plagued the Crusaders;
While Antioch’s Governor Yagi-Siyan appealed for
assistance from his distant brothers the Turks.
He tied messages on legs of trained homing pigeon,
A unique postal service of those early days!
End May 1098 brought news of a large Muslim army
commanded by Emir Kerbogha,
Had set course from Mosul to liberate Antioch from
the Crusaders!
The Crusaders now had to break in fast into Antioch,
or face those 75,000 strong Turkish force!
The Twin Towers on the southern side was manned by
an Armenian Christian Muslim convert named Firuz,
Who was bribed by Bohemund to betray Antioch!
Firuz let down rope ladders for the Crusaders to climb
inside,
And a massacre followed late into the ****** night!
Next day Emir Kerbogha’s troops arrived and the
situation got reversed,
The attackers now lay besieged by those Seljuk Turks!
After fifty-two days of trying siege food supply ran out,
Morale of the Crusaders were rather low, and some even
feared a route!
Now buried in the Church of St. Peter, Peter Bartholomew
the French priest found the ‘Holy Lance’,
About which he had a vision in advance!
This find raised the morale of the Crusaders, and some
even went into a spiritual trance!
For Peter claimed this ‘Holy Relic’ had pierced Christ’s body
after his Crucifixion;
And the Crusading army now moved out of the city in full
battle formation!
Soon after the Turkish army of Kerbogha retreated fearing
devastation!
This victory has been attributed to God and His miraculous
intervention!

                     LIBERATION OF JERUSALEM
After the conquest of Antioch in June 1098, the Crusaders
stayed on till the year got completed.
Though the death of the Papal Legate in August got them
rather depressed;
While Bohemund of Taranto took over Antioch, which now
became the Second Crusader State;
And Raymond of Toulouse became the undisputed Leader
of The Crusade!
Next travelling through Tripoli, Beirut, Tire and Lebanon;
To liberate Bethlehem they sent off Tancred, and Baldwin
of Le Bourg.
On the 5th of June they liberated Bethlehem, and on the
Seventh of June they reached the gates of Jerusalem!
Facing acute shortage of food and water their initial attack
failed to materialise,
When priest Peter Desiderius’ vision of the deceased Papal
Legate came as a pleasant surprise!
This vision commanded them to fast, atone for their sins and
make amends,
By walking barefoot in prayer around the Holy City of Jerusalem!
After a final assault on the 15th of July 1099, they broke into
the City,
Killing all Muslims and Jews with impunity!
Pious Godfrey of Bouillon refusing to wear the crown, became
the First Ruler of this Third Crusader State;
And objectives of the Crusaders were finally attained!
With the formation of warrior monks of ‘Hospitallers’ and
‘Knight Templers’, wearing White and Red Crosses respectivel
RELEVANT LESSONS CAN BE DRAWN FROM PAST HISTORY!
Alan S Bailey Jul 2016
You are my voice, you are not just a pen,
Let us see where at the cross section we meet,
Stars, moonlight, a new moon, this in a dream,
It's the same sky I see when I go to sleep,
Close your eyes love, see what you will see,
There is no harm in daring to dream,
To be different, to find a love or not, blindness or sight
Living factual truth, your spirit in flight.

*These are the endless stories of your unique life,
You will do what you dream, but words only write,
To be in the moment, to see the planets and star light
Glow from your roof top without telescope, near and far,
This is truly the concept greater than popular things,
It is your experience, give it all it's worth, it's all you are.
The young man was sleeping rough on the street
why he was not honestly sure.
A talented musician he mused he'd been called
just wanting to roam free!
Music was his love not the riches and fame
enjoyment was the aim.

He had to roam a free spirit that was him
crowds overwhelming not his style!
Though friends wanted to start a band
not sure better on his own.
Writing what he felt within his being
his own future he was foreseeing.

Pressure applied the group was formed
the others realised his talent.
But hard to conform being with others
the one that made it special.
The central pin he always wanted more
yes the bands core!

This musician had these unique qualities
to find the defining sound.
But not the ability to take the pressure
needed for the long term.
At this point it was too early to detect
he had all their respect.

These truly talented greats are often loners
giving us music never to forget.
They rise way above the rest of the pack
pressures driving them to drugs!
Here regrettably the pattern did not alter
for this genius life did falter!

Success came after several years real toil
for this singer it was too much!
Drugs did take over as he lost the battle
many fellow artists tried to help!
Coordinating projects to give him a hope
like a carrot on the rope.

The singer gave one more huge performance
before going to his isolated home.
Wanting a chance to rest was his only reason
after three days the band broke in.
Where it was found he had committed suicide
a hand written note by his side!

The music the singer had created will never fade
only in his thirties but master of his trade!

The Foureyed Poet.
Some times those with a great talent cannot cope with the success it often brings. But even after their deaths what they created lives on! The Foureyed Poet.
A B Perales Sep 2017
DMT
Insight
is what
makes
my
thoughts
Unique.
Roisin Sullivan Dec 2013
Darling, dearest, I will not waste
Your time pretending that I can
Understand what you are thinking
And the darkness inside your mind,
For all our demons are unique.

If I had a flashlight I would
Employ it to block the shadows;
Or better yet I'd use sunbeams
To completely **** whatever
It is that's holding you hostage.

You say your mind bursts like rotten
Fruit, but sweetie, it was plucked from
The Tree of Knowledge so with that
Much wisdom about love and sin
It's normal the weight caused the fall.

I wish I could be the one to
Save you and tell you how vital
You are to me, to everyone.
But I learned a long time ago
That you are your own heroine.

You'll save yourself as you always
Do, and along the way you will
Rescue others as you have me,
Though you will never realize it
And refuse to acknowledge it.

The path ahead may be long and
Hard and it's okay to be weak
Sometimes and we'll help carry the
Load when you fall down. Remember,
However, you must soldier on.
Kasey Nov 2013
Never explain except for in love.
When you explain why you feel the need to exaggerate everything that makes you unique
And challenge those who challenge you. Fight those who beat you. Conquer those below you.
When you stand alone in front of the one and say I Am Who I Was Made To Be.
And perhaps explain who you are.
Why you're weird, grotesque, mature, immature, laugh, smile, cry, dream, write.
And that some people watch, some read, some write, some frown, some
Take the time to grow into cases the world lacks the capacity to withstand.
And maybe explain why you're content with this mediocrity that is laughing at yourself.
Singing loudly to empty rooms in a dark house with an off-pitch voice.
Walking the silent, cold streets with your head down arms closed around your chest.
Never excuse yourself for this.
Only explain that this is who you are and no person of worth can take that away.
And no person of worth will take that away.
They will embrace the surprises and the emotions and love.
Without needing an explanation.
NDHK Jun 2013
To be a daisy maiden
with fragile fingers in my hair,
Is not who I came to be,
though strength lived inside this vessel fair.

So burdened I was, with thoughts of
clever rapport and satire deeds.
Catching the intense beauty all around
not just looking within me.

I walked barefoot on muddy journeys,
collecting trinkets too precious and plain.
Graceless bellows of happy words shouted out
never caring for judgements name.

So when I came across a devilish looking man,
a humble heart in disguise.
I surely followed that tether
feeling my solitude world's final demise.
.
What I saw was a bit frightening, slightly...
only because of his eyes.
They were not uncommon but still unique,
something behind them I recognized.

They held secrets and wonder,
twisty worlds and something familiar.
Showed me tales and revealed quiet emotions.
I swear they were something of a mirror.

So when he disappeared from my sight
but called to me with his lingering light.
Laid out subtlety but inviting none the less.
I started after, caring not for the rips of my traveling dress.

Climbing up toward his castle of
vibrant colors and crests.
Venturing inside to find where the human delight
my sticky heart believed had come to rest.

Finding him sitting front row waiting docile in a chair,
I proceeded ahead with a confident flare.
Unbeknownst at first while focusing on the one
I was chasing.
There was an obstacle in waiting like a beast's heavy pacing.

Past lives and insecurity followed this creature about.
Like wasps hunting a victim waiting to make them shout.
A mask of confusion clouded this face simmering with doubt.
Trying to reach toward me, to let go and get out.

He said there was hope in his heart
but demons he still had to conquer.
He was so lonely and wanting to love
but feared he was too tired.

I responded that
if it's your evils that chase you
down to the pyre.
Well, I guess we are meant to be,
for I am a dragon slayer
And I too, breathe fire.


*©NDHK
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks
that cross the sky from cinder star to star,
        coupling the ends of streets
        to trains of light.

now draw us into daylight in our beds;
and clear away what presses on the brain:
        put out the neon shapes
        that float and swell and glare

down the gray avenue between the eyes
in pinks and yellows, letters and twitching signs.
        Hang-over moons, wane, wane!
        From the window I see

an immense city, carefully revealed,
made delicate by over-workmanship,
        detail upon detail,
        cornice upon facade,

reaching up so languidly up into
a weak white sky, it seems to waver there.
        (Where it has slowly grown
        in skies of water-glass

from fused beads of iron and copper crystals,
the little chemical "garden" in a jar
        trembles and stands again,
        pale blue, blue-green, and brick.)

The sparrows hurriedly begin their play.
Then, in the West, "Boom!" and a cloud of smoke.
        "Boom!" and the exploding ball
        of blossom blooms again.

(And all the employees who work in a plants
where such a sound says "Danger," or once said "Death,"
        turn in their sleep and feel
        the short hairs bristling

on backs of necks.) The cloud of smoke moves off.
A shirt is taken of a threadlike clothes-line.
        Along the street below
        the water-wagon comes

throwing its hissing, snowy fan across
peelings and newspapers.  The water dries
        light-dry, dark-wet, the pattern
        of the cool watermelon.

I hear the day-springs of the morning strike
from stony walls and halls and iron beds,
        scattered or grouped cascades,  
        alarms for the expected:

queer cupids of all persons getting up,
whose evening meal they will prepare all day,
        you will dine well
        on his heart, on his, and his,

so send them about your business affectionately,
dragging in the streets their unique loves.
        Scourge them with roses only,
        be light as helium,

for always to one, or several, morning comes
whose head has fallen over the edge of his bed,
        whose face is turned
        so that the image of

the city grows down into his open eyes
inverted and distorted.  No.  I mean
        distorted and revealed,
        if he sees it at all.
Tark Wain Nov 2014
One day I will be a famous poet
for now I write stillborn poems
that die after a line
so I have to delete them
my professor tells me unfinished thoughts
are just as intriguing as finished ones
but they will not make me famous
so I do not need them

One day I will be a famous poet
I will write a one thousand page poem
so long that no one will ever finish it
but they will think everyone has finished it
so one will ask
"Have you read that one thousand page poem?"
and the other will answer
"Yes I have and it was great!"
and then the two will agree
and continue to speak of its greatness
even though neither has read the poem
because if they had made it past page 193
they would have seen that the remaining pages
are just the word "famous" in different fonts
strewn across the page like dandelions
and then I will be famous

One day I will be a famous poet
I will write a poem with no words
with just a title that says "Think"
and people will read it
and they will think
and they will write their own poems
each different and precise
unique in its own way
and they will credit me when they do so
they will say "you made us think"
"you are a genius"
"A great"
and all I would have done
is write one word
a word we all say
and then I will be famous

One day I will be a famous poet
I will write a poem with no ending
And people will proceed to write their own
Because I
Cynthia Brinley Feb 2014
Look at yourself in the mirror,
you probably don't like how your nose
isn't completely straight,
or that one eye is smaller than
the other one.

But don't you worry
darling,
those imperfections you see?
They define you as a human,
and make you unique.

Even though you hate your
flaws,
there is someone out there
in the big, vast, world,
who will love them with their entire soul,
if it is even possible to love
someone that much.

Please don't fret,
when you look into the mirror
and don't like what stares back
at you,
because someone would
think they are the luckiest person on the
planet to kiss those flaws.
*C.B.
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2014
je pense bien à toi
(i think well of you)

Have not chatted in awhile,
me rutted in NYC,
a city of constant tear down
and sometimes flashy urban human
renewal...

While you,
you getting on with life,
growing up, growing down,
buying clothes for a new school season,
or growing children,
or boxing up now grandchildren memories of memories...
falling in love, writing poetry all about it...

You,
in Nepal, Malaysia, India,
Seattle, Portland, and the Florida's panhandle,
the US Midwest sainted hinterlands,
the South, that makes one love water,
water that has travelled from the faraway,
island continent of professorial Australia,
Did I forget the Philippines?

worse sin committed,
is that in
your poetry
I have not toe dipped,
quite the long erstwhile,
after loving it with
obsession devotion...

so just a Saturday afternoon
note penned just to you
and you alone...

je pense bien à toi
(i think well of you)

So by way of apology,
craft a poem for you exclusive,
more than each word, letter,
every syllable, tongue tasted
for conjuctivity,
breadth and thus discovered
notes of red soil, raspberry, lemon,
even a hint of sweet masquerading as a
salty kindness in our veins,
our unique vintage of connectivity

Your hand to my lips raised,
grasped twice, by mine both,
slow lifting with stature, affection and respect,
kiss it and whisper just enough for
we two to hear...

je pense bien à toi
(i think well of you)

even this seems weakly insufficient,
but care taken nowadays,
a new economy of words,
write less, think more, and
give up the truly deserved words only
as a mark of my fondness and respect

these come on no schedule,
often months in the making,
so forgive-me-not my unsweetened silences,
accept them with easy knowing that

je pense bien à toi
(i think well of you)

the summer man wintered in discontent,
his journey now disrupted by forces exogenous,
stealing his vision, jailing him in between
walls of indecision, knocking down
his own twin towers,
but carelessly not making provision
to tell you well and often enough

je pense bien à toi
(i think well of you)*

Sept. 13, 2014
Thank you SALLY for reminding me of this long ago poem 6/21/18
Dylan Burns Dec 2013
How many more thoughts until you make your next move?
How many pros and cons?
How long should you decide to decide?
Let be and stop killing the great spontaneousness of life
Only then can you truly understand the good and bad
Be great but with many hard times
Be unique but with much resentment from others
This life is set in such a way where it is better than any dream you could have
Only here can you be close to death but feel more alive
To lose everything then gain everything
To be a the person you think about everyday right now
A whole infinite journey...
Just for you
SexySloth Dec 2013
Love - it does not necessarily mean romance, or
silly, promised-filled, tragedies like Romeo and Juliet's,
or shallow, innocent love of teenagers, who are just starting to experience
what it's like and want to know more;

Love can mean the kind you feel for people
you care about, like your parents,
your siblings, your friends...
People whom you'd love unconditionally.
And those people probably love you back
despite your flaws and endless mistakes,
they'd forgive you
and sometimes,
they try to help you get on the right path
and correct those flaws so that
You become a better person.

But what does loving a stranger mean?
Isn't that how we all came to be?
Your mother loved a stranger, and got you.
Her mother loved a stranger and loved your grandfather,
and his father loved a stranger, your great-grandmother...

This beautiful cycle of loving strangers begins our time on Earth.

How do you know that you love a stranger?
Firstly, you might think that their fingers are rather bony
and maybe they way they stand are a little odd,
and the way they walk make you cringe inside 'coz it's awkward?
And their hair is a little too long, when they say a joke,
their lips curl up at the top and their eyes flit upwards
and you feel so uncomforable looking at them.
                     Slowly, you realise though...
after talking to them a little more,
becoming better acquaintances,
and then friends,
you don't notice those 'flaws' anymore (they were never things I should criticise in the first place)
In fact, you start to love them, and like it when they do that.
It's a unique part of them that you want to keep seeing.
You feel guilty and sorry for even hating them in the first place,
because afterall, they are beautiful!

            Lastly, when you depart,
you know you really love them because
           you'll miss those tiny details even more
since you're never going to see those lovely beauties again.
*(Oh, how I regret not fully appreciating them!)
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
On any given day,
so far,
I have been sui causal,
and distracted by a real
fat cat named Wreckit,
he's a ****** subspecies' archetype,
on the branch of eating things,
unique, we insist, we delight in knowing,
we eat cats next to last.

This  cat has the best life of any mammal ever.
My grandchildren worship him, and he's afraid
to come into my room, but he defiantly plays
in the hall and looks to see if I notice, and I blink.

I think a thank you for the lightening mood.
Laugh ten times beyond good and evil, then don't choke...
Am lonely
only rarely alone
but surely lonely
down to my last friends
lately making them is hard
harder to keep them still
everlasting sighs at
exasperation from idiocy
mine own idiocy

Am very lonely
in mine own lonely way
my beautiful girl
is my closest friend
but even she can not
fill this hole inside of me
when dreaming
I grip her shoulders tight
and cry into her *****
she is so dearly loved

Am so very, very lonely
missing a friend
who lives overseas
he means so much to me
across the pond
his light can't be seen
he is the lighthouse
for this way off-course ship
and he shines bright
but the fog is too thick
mate, it's real thick tonight

Am the loneliest I've been
my dad sits in the next room
he is so dearly loved
makes me feel loved
like there are no parallels
unique and cherished
yet this feeling is indifference
no concern for myself
the words to make him comfort me
don't pass my lips
my trembling quivering lips

Am desiring compassion
resentful of pity
am wanting of sympathy
guilty of concern
am capable of empathy
sensitive to misfortune
am lonely
so very lonely
Claudia Tallon Aug 2012
I won’t melt when the rain falls down
I will sing and dance around
I shall grin I shall not frown
And when it floods I will not drown

If the lightning strikes my head
It’s not something that I dread
Because it can’t make me drop dead
It ignites my mind instead

Thunder does not frighten me
It’s drums that make my dance more free
As it resounds threateningly
My feet will glow vibrantly

And as my light sees the sky
It shall sprout wings so it can fly
It will rocket up so high
And rain joy down on passersby

The sun will see and fight the clouds
Rising again to defeat rains shroud
I’ll light up again and scream so loud
And share my delight with all the crowds

One day warmth will cover you
The ones who dance are very few
We’re all bright colors with a unique hue
Some are purples, greens, reds, and blues

And if we all just could shine bright
We would overcome the night
The battle is never a fair fight
But friend, you’ll win if you’ll shine your light
Emory Jun 2018
Years ago I met a girl,
Who confessed she once fantasized,
About struggling with mental illness.

She wanted to be like her favorite artists,
Craved a diagnosis to make her interesting,
A beauty mark that interrupted an otherwise plain face.

That was of course until,
Her eating disorder took control,
And that unique little trait started to **** her.
Welcome, dear mysteries
My one and only planet is here
Here for no particular reason

We are turbulent creatures
Speckled with interesting features
Each so similar
Each so unique

Our minds race with life
The need to enjoy life
The need to create life
The need to help life
The need to live

We ebb and flow
Our tides enclose our minds
Thinking on two different sides of the same ocean
Often not in sync

Loud heads
Yelling out
Fear
Anger
Laughter
Dreams

We have a way
A way of including anyone
Yet excluding everyone

And this means you, hopeful friends
This means us.
This is a message for any aliens that come to earth
Saurabh Tak Jul 2018
We are, but stories - walking and talkin,
each one unique, each one gawkin,
Stories unheard and unseen,
waiting to be heard and waiting to be seen.

Saurabh.
Jevaugn Oct 2015
Tiled floors begat your presence in
The mind as if soles echo unique forms
Of Being-as-waves..
Blue woman within the shade of ripened
Moons and florescent suns  remembers
The curvature of cycles without motion
Violence in the image of pleasure
Change in the order of descent foaming
Across harmonious black sandy beaches
[Sensation in absence][An abstract eternity]
Mortal Death begat your presence in
The mind like Mother Tongue begat the
Life of time in ripened moons and
Florescent suns
                                           "L'air est en béatitude.
                                        Je vous bercé avec amour."
The air is...
Hostile.
Hostile.
How still the necessary angel is in this
Extended  moment of souls touching, meeting
From both sides of a wooden bridge, but
Twenty times you looked back and twenty times
Time faded to black dew condensing on window
Panes.

God's tears in August rain,
In September rain,
In October rain.
God tears so your rebirth is drowned in violence
And within regret you die with red wine carpet
Stains in your eyes and a flame a lit, flickering
Because the air is blissful.
                                           "I cradle you with love"
                                           Torn like steel across skin.

Blue woman who eases charred sands, who is your tourniquet?
David Casas Dec 2011
Don't listen to me, I'm a copy too
I'm nothing that should be considered original
I'm nothing worth building a statue over
I'm nothing that can't be replaced
If I get hit by a bus
Just pull someone else of the street
Put them in my clothes
You'll hardly notice the difference
I think my parents will like someone they won't have to feel guilty towards
They ******* me up
They know it, too
My brother'll like someone that's not trying to put him down all the time
I'm still in the process of ******* him up
He knows it, too
You could all just throw my dead, stinking, toxic body in the back
Feed me to the dogs

Let's mosey in the other extreme, let's say I'm unique
Or you are
They won't let us be different
If the commonwealth start listening
They'll **** us
Out of fear
What else they can do?
If we threaten them with consciousness among the masses
We got to go
It's nothing personal
I'll never have a Swan Song day
I'll never have a woman that I love
I'll never get to die peaceful in bed
I won't get to see the kids I never had grow up
But I'll have the benefit of having the memory of a fresh life

Doesn't sound like we have much of a choice, does it?
Conform, jump through the hoops, sell our soul, give yourself up
Or you live your life not giving in
And they decide you can't stick around
You're given the people funny ideas
I'm sure they'll **** you or me
If we're too free
They already got rid of Bobby, John and Martin
I guess that's why Jerome went into hiding
He gave too much hope and courage to people

You can either rot from the inside
Or you die young
Because, maybe one way or another they get you

I like to believe they don't though

Imagine this, as you lay bleeding from the three holes in your chest
With that last word of hope or love or divinity or whatever you want to call it on your lips
You sit and you think
It was all worth it
I don't regret anything
Because
Unlike them
I can still taste her lips
Unlike them
I can still hear the music
Unlike them
I can still see the endless fields of rye, the forests, the amazons, the rivers, the mountains
Unlike them
My eyes still smile
Unlike them
I laugh
Unlike them
I dance to my own music

And as the blood that retains it's anima leaves my veins
I smile
Because I'm not like them
And I realize
So I'm grateful
And I notice
All the little scared people look so cute in their mislead, unshaped, self-righteous indignation

— The End —