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Old 11-16-2006   #1
Savage_Nature
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Savage Anthology

Darkness
Here he is,
He's come for me,
No more cruel uncertainty,
A single touch will end my pain,
And take it with me to my grave,
Wait! Wait!
Now I see,
My misery was only me,
Pretending to be,
Whom never I was,
And being a fool,
Just to be tough,
So now the man all robed in white,
Tells me that I'm all out of life,
Not ready to go,
Young as can be,
As the darkness envelopes me.

Everybodys Nobody
Look at them all,
They walk by and stare,
They are all so unaware,
Of the reasons they are here,
They may think they are ment for glory,
Ment for passion,
Ment for pain,
The real reason being,
Is that they were made to care,
But instead they just walk by and stare,
Stare at the ones who don't seem to be there,
Who eventually aren't there,
Gun,
Blade,
Poison or snare,
Could have been spared by someone who cared.

Reasons
Leave the room,
Close the door,
Never felt this way before,
And the question repeats over in my mind,
Why?

Were did all those happy days go?
Those days that we sat all alone,
hand in hand,
Dreaming of more,
Hoping for what we had,
Never wanting anything more

Now I leave,
Close the door,
Never felt this way before,
Looking for reasons,
Searching for my core

Self Indulgence
Anger-Hate-Judgmental Indecisions,
Flowing through my mind,
I can't feel your incisions,
The pain left long ago,
Releasing in spasmatic bursts,
Why did you follow through with the knife?
Knowing what was right,
Knowing you had thrown away what could have saved us all,
Saved us from the self-deciete thrown down through several years,
Now the truth be told,
I can't stand you-can't take you-don't want you-need to free you,
from the tattered remains of my mind,
Fly free,
Leave me be,
And just maybe you will find,
Something to change your life,
Like the way that you changed mine.

Let It All Go
I dont know If I should say hi,
I know I made her cry,
I'll be amazed if I didn't,
Maybe she's stronger than I thought,
But then again-maybe not,
I just can't tell the reasons why,
She can never really seem to cry,
About the things that really matter,
Maybe she would be better off without me,
Maybe she could live a life or simplicity,
Can't count the reasons why,
Every time she tries to fly she ends up in a nosedive,
Spiraling out of control,
Maybe just once she could make the grade,
Throw down better than the other guy,
Maybe then she would see,
She's not so bad as she percieves herself to be,
All you people should take a lesson,
And if you haven't got the message,
Take a note and write it down,
Store it where it wont be found,
Somewhere deep within your soul,
Maybe someday it will happen,
You will find the note and let it loose.
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Old 11-16-2006   #2
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Re: Savage Anthology

Untitled
Curses born on the sands of time
Bestowed upon those who think lesser of the greater good
My body relates to Cold as if it were an old friend
Slowly as if it were meant to be Cold takes me
Takes me, thrills me, and fills me
Shows me the way to a lesser evil
Hands me a shard as if it were always mine
A pair of hands throw down the knife
Filled with blood from sinners past
And slowly the frozen coaster ride comes to a hault
I breathe to relieve this curse from my body
Focus on the warm of Time
Aided by Time I live my life
Carved a letter of forgiveness in the thing I hate
Forgave the thing that caused my pain
We lay in what we create
Create only what we can take
I took less than what was needed
Found that lesser isn't always better
Lay down and breath
Once again I feel my heart beat

Restraint
The way I am sinking,
Is worse than the pulling of my soul.
I fight this like it were my own-
My own desiese-
This thing I created.
Blame myself and no one else,
It would scream my name-
Lure me in,
Hook me and thrill me.
Then it would leave me.
Shove me away.
Realizing the trap I'm in, I struggle in vain-
My hopes are detained-
Dreams remain refrained,
Searching for the trap door-
The one I've fallen for,
Trying to climb out of this hole.
People walk by the grates surrounding me.
My shouts die down in the muffled whispers of the few,
The few that hold me back.
Restrain me from what should be mine.
Now let me rest in this pool-
Pool of fears and lost dreams,
Remembering what was and what should be.

Feeling This
Slowly you crawl, aided by the rough of below.
Slowly, eventually finding your footing and standing up high-
You run free, feel the wind at your feet.
Faster than before you start to search for reasons why,
Things are changing turmoil is arising
Deamons rear their ugly heads-
Scoffing at your pitiful struggles
All hopes escaping on winds of fire.
The reaper is only a temporary friend.
You slowly regain sanity as your head clears from the awful nightmare
Drawling hours are spent passing life by-
Another face in the crowd,
Nothing but your calling keeps you safe.
Now you are faced with this decision,
Will you create an incision into life?
Throw away what is thriving?
After you've come this far?
Or will you advance in what many have fallen on?
Create something in which to call your own,
You sieze at the sword in the stone.
Grab for the hilt of that twisted entity.
Winding down you realize one thing-
You have made so many choices along this twisted ride,
So many choices that could have turned you to ash,
And you have succeeded above the rest.
Now you close the blinds.
Drift off,
Feel the edge fade,
Darkness remains.
And once again you feel the rough.

Beach Chairs

We slowly strolled,
Just the two of us.
Nothing left to do,
But stand by and pray-
Pray for a better day,
A day where its one for all-
And all for one.

Now we sit-
Alone in our beach chairs.
Watch the waves lap at our feet,
Like the consistent revolution of the world.
Bringing about the night.
Like a romantic movie-
That only we can see.

The chairs beneath resembling the Earth-
Hard and steadfast.
The stars above proportionate to love-
Oblivious, infinate, and extraordinary.
Only life resembles a picture like this.
One word to describe it-
And only one could contain it.
Perfect.

Life: The Epic

Five years pass-
Flew by so fast,
Lived my life just like I should.
Always doing a hundred plus-
And learnt from mistakes-
You should only make once.

Grade five,
Saw the new kid in school
He didn't know anyone.
So I sat by him and we talked before class,
Life-long friends are made so fast.

Grade six came-
Fast as a flash-
And just like that-
Its gone again.

Grade seven held some surprises;
Like what the back of a cop car looks like-
From the inside.
Learned life lesson-
Sticky hands lead to REAL sticky hands,
Cleaning floors isn't much fun.

Grade eight was a golden year,
Learnt girls really don't have cooties-
Started to realize some things about myself;
Like how dressing in clean un-ripped clothes-
And not having dirt smudges everywhere wasn't such a bad thing.

Grade nine was 'sweet' and 'rad'-
The girls really did get hot over summer.
Start to learn what work really means,
Realize now that marks count; the future is now.

Oh and by the way-skinned knees hurt less than a broken heart-
But a broken heart can be fixed with the same remedy as skinned knees;
A kiss from that special someone.
So live life-don't make a big deal-
Life goes on and you'll move on.
Girls, money, friends, or fashion-
If they really do care-then they wont.
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Old 11-16-2006   #3
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Re: Savage Anthology

Letters
These letters I wrote them all,
Can you see how much thought I put-
The thought I put into each one?
Every single letter,
Every single word.
Could you find a single thing-
You disliked about them at all?

Have you given any thought-
To the way you're going to write back?
The words you'll use?
Did you take me seriously at all?

At last a letter back!

"Dear Unknown Sender:

Sorry but I just don't know,
Know enough to make a decision.
Seen you across the class-
And in the hall.
Never really wondered at all-
What could be?
From your letters-all that I've gathered-
Your a great guy!
I just don't have the time."

Voice
To ease my pain
Every now and then
The voice whispers
Whispers growing into a rapid torent
"Don't look back"
"Don't look back"

Now shouting at me from afar
Slowly ebbing in and out in the usual way
The voices inside my head confide to that one theory
The theory of a dead man

Now scream my name
Warn of the sharp jagged rocks of Love's twisted shore
Scream it
Can you feel it?

Sunset
If I told you,
Told you I loved you,
Loved everything about you,
About your hair-
Your eyes-
And even your freckles,
Like a sunset gone astray-
Become more beautiful than the rest.
A million rainbows melded to one,
Creating a spectacular portrait.
Portrait of the finest linen,
Spices and bread.
From taste to touch,
Sight to sound,
Everything is perfect.
Just like a sunset.

Velvet
Even from murky darkness of her eyes
Where many had been lost, never to return,
I sensed something astray.
Like a lost puppy surrounded by black
Gone amiss in the worlds abyss.
Gently I comforted,
Doing no more than could be done.
Gently; a growing sea on my shoulder.
Statues as such, no movement was born,
Less the velvet of her shimmering mane
Amplified so by the surrounding dim
Encroaching on us like a fearsome army.
Across the room a single door
Letting in small slivers of light
To collapse the darkness surrounding.
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Old 11-16-2006   #4
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Re: Savage Anthology

Twisted Views
Three steps closer-
Four steps backward.
Never seem to figure it out.
Always ends the same.
Throw away the one I need-
Grow into the one I fuel;
Fuel the passion,
Yet hate the flame.
Growing pains are a part of life,
Some necessary,
Others a self infliction;
Im creating this incision,
To show you the way I feel.
No other self expression.
One to many decisions.
All the right ones,
Chalk up to the second evil;
The way you waste away.
All the wrong ones end in catastrophe.
Two seperate views on death-
Both equally painful and unnecessary.
Shattered glass a prime example-
Like shards of lost memories.
Slowly I break down-
Just like the old man in the street.
He seems so sad.
Alone and broken.
Realizing there is no destiny-
Self mutilation or recreation;
Two different views-
On the exact same thing.
Twisted and distorted-
Make your choice,
Clean up the mess later.

Last Rights
I'll stand by your grave-
Not quiet dead yet.
You're close enough for me.
Holding no flowers-
But rather the barbs from the stems,
I'll spread them on your casket.
Everyone around drapped in black,
Standing out wearing what you said-
Said I should if I were to go on after you.
Faded denim from summers gone,
Lime T-shirt from the days of young.
Slowly they leave-few of us remain.
Men in black stony faced and solemn now gone.
We celebrate, not the end-
But a new begining.
We stand alone,
Dressed in our peculiar way;
Each with his or her own style-
Each representing something different.
And each of us share one seperate dying glance-
As we part once more.

Fright
Frightened,
I approach this theory of mine.
Consult the age old tomes.
Realising information is useless-
Slowly regain some sense of sanity.
Lets break free-
Break free from it.
Lose it-
Feel it-
Need it-
Want it-
Afraid to have it.
Cant wait another second,
Fling open the door-
Darkness there and nothing more.

Pawns
Cleaning up your mess again
Seems I've been here before
On my hands and knees
Breaking my back so you can relax

You think your the elite
Higher class than the rest
Self deciete and manipulation
All used so others pity you
Maybe then they will thrill you

Trapped few ever escape
Early warnings send few away
Always they try
Always they die

Pawns in this twisted game
Moved around by the queen
All wanting to be the king
Obedience is key

Shuffle here shuffle there
You cant stand still
Play with your hair
To seduce a new player

An army of pawns
All owned by one
Those who escape
Never come back

Promotions to knight?
Rook or king?
Not today
Maybe tomorrow you say?

Once again I'll let you move me
Maybe I'll fall in this battle
Be lost for all eternity
Would you take that risk

The Way We Do It
In a sparsely lit garage,
That would be envied by few;
Your crew sets up like machines-
Each knows exactly what to do.
You pick up your tool,
Then silently nod;
The cue is enough-
As your amplifier hums a slow melodic tune.
Symphony of five-
Melded into one,
Few could understand;
The way the music flows.
You stand there in your spotlight,
You could be a million miles away,
The guitar seems to play itself-
As you tap your foot and drift away...
You can almost hear the crowds cheer-
Chanting back your tune.
Now fade back to reality,
That's just the way we do it.
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Old 11-16-2006   #5
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Re: Savage Anthology

Happy Father's Day
Father-
Brother-
Guidance-
Lover.
Many words chosen to describe a man,
A man more capable than most.
Where many would cower and fall before evil,
One could stand for the righteous and sinscere.
Through rain, sleet, hail, and turmoil;
A psychological bootcamp called life.
Many are chosen but few shine.
And I am here to tell you this,
Like a golden beaken-
Warning ships of jagged edges abroad,
You have shone brighter than the rest.
Happy Father's Day.

Love's Last Stand
Let me tell you about this hell I feel
Few could ever endure the way it burns
Like the magnitude of the suns intensity
Multiplied by the feeling of love unbroken
Undaunted by even times age old tricks
Sealed up in tombs unknown with gaurdians radiant
All words to describe a feeling
Yet few can come to compare
So you search for answers
To questions you don't even know
Finding one alternative to your pain
You step out on the stage
Strike your chords
Rake your strings
Amplifiers belt out the sweetest tune
Let it ring and feel them sing
They scream your name
Hero for a day...

My Guitar

Sometimes I wish that night had lasted forever...
Just you and a bud,
Sitting alone,
In a small little cabin
You could call your own.
He's stoned out of his mind-
Just like you.
It doesn't matter what you play-
If you play anything at all.
Make it all up as you go.
Just like you wish you could.
And this time it works,
You sound like a god.
Is it real?
No one knows.
He tells you to remember it for the following day
But why would you want to?
Ruin the mystique
That the small room holds.
So just play your guitar,
Play it at will,
Play it like you own it.
Because in this reality,
You do.

Reverse {can be read backwards}

What do I do?
Im trapped in this game.
It's as if I am being pulled in deeper.
Every time I move someone is there to block me...
I try to struggle and am pulled yet farther down.
Oblivion.
Yes, oblivion is a good word for this,
Something you can not stop
Yet you persist in your attempts.
And when your at the bottom of the pool-
The pool of ink water,
You continue to sink;
Through the floor.
Down to the core.
A slow motion train wreck.
Are you ready?
...
....
...
Good, now play it in reverse and grind the gears.
Were gonna do it all over again.
Play it backwards and sink to the top.

Happy Birthday
I didn't forget
That much is true
In fact if I could
I'd get something for you
But what would you get
For someone so pure?
Gold and silver shimmer
But rarely compare to you
Sit here and write
Pondering thoughts
"Straight from the heart."
Is hard to achieve
Or even imagine
For the lesser part.
But sitting here wondering
Imagining gold and riches
Beyond what even a King could dream
I realize the gift
A gift from the heart.
Something you have had all along
I few simple words of which would adue:
"I Love You"

Purity in Sin
Fall not to temptation,
Nor to the powers of above.
Few could suffice;
This burden bore.
Yet managing you might
To redeem a lost soul
Soul of the Lost,
Soul of the Old,
Soul of the Few,
Soul of the Many.
A gift you are given
In each and every life
To shred or to mend
A rebel world; many abide,
By the laws governing man.
Human nature to you.
Yet ebbing like the tide
Is the few who remain
Remain just like you,
Who choose not to clash
But to make structures of pure

A title?
Pieces of what I wish I could be
Are falling around me,
Swallowing up what could have been.
Seeing now the errors made...
Indecision is wading in.
Nothing could have hit me like this,
Goosebumps crawl across my skin;
Hearing her name,
Every time I incline to think.
Return to reality,
Away from my mind.
Wondering what would have been;
Answering with only the truth,
Yesterday is forevers never.
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Last edited by Savage_Nature; 11-16-2006 at 11:45 PM.
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Old 11-16-2006   #6
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Re: Savage Anthology

Stress Relief
You put me through such torture now I redirect what is rightly yours.
Feeling free for a single week, expected, your back again to haunt my dreams curse or blessing I don't know; but you're still here.
The fact remains I can't sustain this life with the tattered fragments of my imagination tossed like a ship into a whirlpool which breaks and is ravaged as if a kraken had gone wild.
Mythical lore beseeches no meaning when you can't stop this feeling, you struggle with your past and feel the glass, sharp as daggers and sparkling like a crystal.
Slowly touching it to your skin you feel the incision, stopping for a moment to release your grip on reality, could I have stopped it I don't know; but that is no matter.
Now you lie in your imaginary grave imbedded in my mind, just like the names in the wall...

There you will lay and there they will stay.

Smoke and Mirrors
Always, you said to much
I never could say enough
For weeks I let this thought settle in my head
Till my dying breath I'll stand by what I said
Seasons change, and so do I
Learn to live and learn to love
The order you portray your life
Isn't a choice of mine
I stand by what I said
Until smoke and mirrors
(Were what this was made of)
For once I took the upper hand
Power hurts, and so do I
(So do I)
Left you to drift away in the fog
For that I forgive
(You stood by what you said)

?
Feel the buzz
Faulter on the air
And then the voice
(am I insane?)
Fade out
Static waves
A subliminal trip
Seen as a sleepy daze
(others have been here before)
Release your grip
(a little longer)
You don't want to stay

The Old Book
As I give in
Reality turns the page
Slowly, the walls are getting too thin
Like the paper, torn with age

Dust rises up like a single whisper
Written are all these false dreams
If I could only kiss her
This book is falling apart at the seams.

Scream my name
The pages turn
Caught up in this game,
I just want it to burn

In spite of being set free;
I still can't breathe

Innocence
If you think about it really...
Not the dirty image that propoganda has installed in our minds.
The real thing, what most of us live for...

Sitting outside on a beautiful sunny day at your favorite park,
the birds chirping their favorite tune, wind blowing, grass rustling.
Now imagine for a moment that you could focus in on just one thing.
The texture of the grass... a thatched carpet of sorts? But what's that?
The sound of the wind... almost... an ocean, yes that's it. And in the distance,
The noises of the birds... what do they sing? If only you could understand...

Imagine for a moment you felt truly at peace with nature, and everything in it.
Imagine you had escaped from what we call 'society' - and nothing can go wrong now.
Imagine you can understand what something as silly as 'chi' is.
Imagine you can be 16-years-old, and still have fun on a playground set made for 4-year-olds.
Imagine being able to walk along the partially melted snow; as you walk over it, the snow appears as clouds, and the grass as prairies far below.

It's innocence.
Slightly captivating or no?

Around it Goes
Days fly by
Passing through time
Less than a ripple
On the primordial coil

Find new ways
To inject the poison
If only you knew
The pain you put me through

Simple rhymes can't decypher
The way I feel, it's an endless cycle
Give and give, while you only take
Sap my strength and devour my love

All for one and one for none

Sonnata
A gauntlet of strange rammifacations,
A short journey through space and time itself.
Constructed of heightened confrontation,
An odd frontier to develope one's self.

Unsuspecting - the innocent captive.
More powerful than our God gone awry,
Needing not but a single incentive,
Fiercer than the fire burning in the sky.

Your heart quickens pace, your words run amuck
Light-headed, dizzy, you can't get enough,
You need no more than a slight dash of luck
A chance encounter that could be quite rough

A fleeting moment takes flight like a dove,
Few can encompass, what truly is love?

Grandfather Clock
Tick-tock an old rickety clock
its sheen's been shorn with age.

The faceplate worn the tassles torn
this clock has long since seen its day.

It grunts and groans fighting slow,
the hinges wear the insides tear.

Though it seems a simple rhyme
about a clock past it's prime;
could bear no merit on this tarrot
I simply ask for a bit more time.
For see the rhyme is closing slowly,
and with every passing moment
more is learnt about why-
time is unimportant in a world
where time can fly.
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Old 11-16-2006   #7
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Re: Savage Anthology

Wanderer
Lately I've been wandering sideways.

I've seen the bad side of good
seen the good side of bad,
solved the merciless maze.

I've seen the flower bloom
seen the eagle soar;
looked right at the sun-
and seen so much more.

I've walked the mountain top,
swam the depthless sea,
brought a grin to the grinch
and I set him free.

I've lain six feet deep
held assembly with Death,
He wouldn't let me in.

I've flown beyond the clouds
seen eternal bliss-
and I came right back down.

So many times I've wondered
how far my wandering went.
Now I know it wont end-it
just starts with a loving heart.

Dear Brave Ulysses {Ulysses boat speaks}
I've found we've always gotten along, seems like it's been so long
since we first met. We've traveled a fair way, the two of us,
and through all the good, and even the bad - we've a consequential
tale to tell of many a mystrey and myth.

Winded, worn, torn, the able work to finish the trap,
sent to the Trojan door, accepted as gift
- yet so much more. Night falls and creepers work
to set about the dismal task. Few are left,
when the ships push off.

Dear brave Ulysses, landed from the waves
foul shake, cast his view upon Princess Nausicaa.
Lead to the palace and lured with good eat,
Ulysses stayed, and a tale he told:

Turbulent waters held strong until we hit land,
the land of the Lotus Eaters. Three members
of our crew ate these, and three of our crew we're
taken off the island by force.

Another island still, great giants loom.
One blaring eye looks right through you,
caught in a den, unable to escape,
two men they ate, the giant creatures.
Stabbed in the eye and unseen under wool,
the crew escaped, to set sail for more.

Keeper of the winds, giving a gentle push,
sent forth a bag, mistaken for treasure.
When opened up, released a hurricane.

Enchantress Circe, entertaining as such,
gave a wave of her wand and the crew were
through. Swine, stolen and tamed. Ulysses
and I, set sail once more.

Finally home, with Athena at side, he
tested foul suitors, and having perhaps
the better claim, rose to the top; son at side
Ulysses stood over his fallen foes.

For You
I'm sorry if our last embrace
was more than you could take.
A tender, vivid dream it seems,
memories none could fake.
Through the black your grey tears sang
across an ashen face.
The Siren's call beckons less
than would the song you sing,
composed of tears and gentle bass
your heart keeps steady beat.
No rest for he the gallant knight,
as though by magic drawn,
he caresses down a single blow
to sing again the song.

Immortal
Where to start on a topic that has no end?
No end to beauty as it seems,
nor to the endless lap of love.
I could speak forever of the fairest of all,
or of the mirror that speaks naught but truth
who claims you as a better claim.
Or perhaps I should detail the vivid verbs
associated with the vantage of your crown -
which blowing in the air, could entice a sailor to the shore
a Siren's call.
As it seems no end is in sight to this beautiful plight,
alas I name you thus, as immortal in my mind.
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Old 11-16-2006   #8
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Re: Savage Anthology

An Ode to Manliness
Trumpets on the horizon, a single ominous shadow dances
across the far rolling hills. An earthquake ransacks the ears
from the single rythmic pounding annoucing the onslaught.
Sunrise encroaches, kindred to the brandished steel
that cleaves the morning breeze.
Flying death decends upon the maurading wave
as to smite the evil intentions, to no avail.
Hard shells raise up as machinery grinds to an explosive hault.
Affronted by the corrosive volley a berserk crowd rages,
so valiant the roar of the colliding waves
as to bestir Lucifer from his rest to spy upon the outcome
with brave discomposure. This is the story He will tell
ages and ages hence,
of the audacious valor found among men.

In Memory
I'm sorry if our last embrace was more than you could take.
A tender vivid dream it seems, mem'ries none could fake.
Through the black your grey tears sang, across an ashen face.
A song, composed of tears and rapid bass, your heart keeps rythmic pace.
The song you sing beckons more than would a Siren's call.
No rest for he, the gallant knight, framed in valor's fall,
and as if by magic drawn, he caresses down a single blow,
to sing again the song.

Macbeth
Dear Macbeth, valiant in his strife,
Granted great honor by three sisters wierd;
Only to be obtained by the swing of a knife,
And soon to discover more was to be feared.

Macbeth lay in his sleep, restless and touched,
Prodded to do that which was not his own will.
His evil lay next to him, silent and thatched,
Preturbed and deterred at the thought of the kill.

Scotland's honor now shattered, at the loss of her king,
And as she mourns the entrance of a decietful fiend,
More fall still at the Scopion's sting.
Alas! The sting has missed, as if feigned,
Macduff lives yet, and flies with due haste,
For hope lays in England, resting in Edward the Confessor.
Edward's trial leaves not but a bitter taste
Yet Macduff passes as if he were the professor.

Here now lies the Dragon, in wait of his fate,
As closer creeps continuous chants of rectitude.
A valiant clash of morality and hate,
As over wins rightousness, as predicts fate.
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Old 06-25-2008   #9
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Re: Savage Anthology

And Itís Just a Dream
I had a dream so obscene it blew my mind from this scene, it's like it -
shattered the rules governing me as a man, like I
couldn't stop the train wreck taking place - it was right in front of my eyes.
Have you felt the pain, pain when all the good inside you dies??
It's like your mind just fries and you can't stabilize the thoughts and your lies.
You lie to yourself, learn a way to live your life with such a pretty face in place of what's true.
You teach yourself to move on, let her go like bomb, let the memory shatter.
After all it never really did matter.
But what happens when it comes back, stronger than before -
and you just realize that all of your lies were for nothing.
Smoke and mirrors.
You've hidden from this and finally it's time for the fire to burn, and it's burning, and burning,
and it just keeps on burning in the heat of the night as you get a grip on your strife,
struggling between what's real and what's right, this is deranged, irresponsible, impractical, irrational,
it's erratic, almost like I should be locked up, and taken away, thrown into a 'happy place'
with the men in white coats. They'll give me my pills, calm me right down, toss me in a cell,
they just don't know when to butt in, or butt out - and I'll break out.
Break these chains and I'll start anew, start from scratch and find my way back to you.
It must have been that look on your face as you were driving away,
torn away from what you really wanted to say...
it's just me, and I'm here - and hey, it's all a dream.

Time
I sat, as I sit now, to watch the clock tick.
I needed the time to think, as I do now,
about the passing of such time,
that passes, or has passed, as I sit, or sat, to think.
You see, I think I thought I could find a reason for it,
both this time and the other times,
a reason it makes sense, to sit and think
about the passing of time, that passes more so as you sit to think.
"For this is wisdom." says the wise old sage,
who has taken all his time to sit and think.
A trouble this is though, as it makes sense that
the more and more you sit, the less and less you live.
As it seems, the more you sit to think,
the more you know of the life you could have,
yet you have not lived, if you've taken all your time to sit and think.
Whereas the more you live, the less you sit to think,
and the less you know of the life you do have.
When you live to live, moments you have,
are only memories you had, once in time.
It makes sense neither to live your life right out,
nor to sit and think about the life you could live your whole life.

Waiting
Life is waiting for you,
Always three steps ahead.
You try to find a clue,
Run till your face is red,
Still only three steps ahead.

Time flies as time dies.
To the bitter end, when all will cry.
Until the last, take care, heed the sky
Open wings on high
And let your spirit fly.

Soar along the heavens-
Where few, and many, go;
Paradoxical, yet let oneself know:
The few are alive, the religious dead.

Mind of a Child
Oh brother, where art thou?
Thy thankless grace astounds even I.
Fellow to miscreants; whose mothers
Were born of the Scythians, savage to be true.
A paradox in nature, for the angelic reverence
Invested in thee. A respect thou hast well earned.
Confusion is thy name, and chess is thy game.
And, oh! Father! Figurehead of virtue!
Lost to the wars of a turbulent past,
Cut at thy prime, shorn as a sapling.
Thou screeches and thou hurts,
My crimes I repent, I beg you forgive!
Mind of mine feeble, the gold of a fool,
Understanding is lost, to your figuring of this.
Ah yes, lest I forget, mine own mother I decree;
Vision of Aphrodite, yet a visage that lay fasted,
How now? Thou art gorged in practice; I say,
Let stress be thy culprit - the pressures of Hecate
Rain down. Young titan in spirit, still you stand strong.
Alas, a final thought, as mine peers shuffle in wait;
Their turn they have earned, last on the plate.
One who is brutish, cruel, distasteful and vulgar;
An ape at best shape, pompous and spoiled.
Second best, or worst, is the one whom cries
For the dropping of a hat; disrespectful and troubled.
Lastly, mine own remembered friend, one who I could
See as good, clear of conscious, who ails in the memory of mine name.
These last three I am forced in with, ruled by a stalemate.
One declaration remains, to that of this world, in whole or in part;
I say to thee, forgive me my sins, whatever they be,
I ask forgiveness for the crimes which I know not.

Imaginative Tendency
Could it really be me thinking this?
Or someone else just traveling through my mind,
like a step in time, a sway in place,
you can fly on your own, through space, time, or your happy place,
away from it all to the ends of the world and back again,
across the seven seas and the blue black sky of time.

The one place where time is a variable (interchangeable), chance a constant (inevitable),
and mood, as always, responds to your unorganized que (controlled).
All this thought is lost with our aging in which we learn (to be adult)
to smother ourselves, and our escape from reality.
The place that keeps us sane is immature (irrational), and is thus killed by society.
Earth, a rock, has been dubbed Hell (by some), and thus Heaven is what you make of it,
the unimaginable of the imaginative mind.

Decoding Life
I'm going to ask you an answer,
I expect you to shout out a reply,
in the form of written verse.
Expound on the essence of an interstellar bubble,
insufflating upon itself to establish space.
Answer now asked, question unanswered,
shout out on paper the true value of pi.

Dance!
This is a call out,
to the lovers, not the haters.
The few who still learn to live,
the vagrants who muscle through the pain.
Get together, grab a dream and dance!
Run far away, to the land of the living!
Dance!

We're falling apart, in step.
This time, we'll never regret our crime -
we're falling leaves, address our own fate;
stray to the ground, deceased and weathered but,
this time, we're falling apart, and we're fine.
This time, we will not regret our crime,
this time, we'll dancing out of step, and in time
this time, we're in the lives we love to lead
this, this is the way we love, can't you see?
This, this is the way we're going to believe,
this, this is the way we're meant to be,
this, this is a day where we can just breathe.

This is a sound off, this is an anthem,
this, this is the dance of the dead,
with the rhythm of the living;
this is history, this is your heart and soul,
this is something you can believe in, something
that isn't just a story or a scene.
This is what it is, and you're apart of it.
So dance!

Quickly
Whoa son.
Sit,stay.
Enjoi.

This is time spent well on high, where eagles roam the starlit sky.

Few and many follow through as we two, a due.
Where and when are aught in Time.
Hasten-quickly, the truth.
I've been dieing to tell you
about this romance, so rampant, wrong, yet right.
It sees right through me,
could very well ruin me.
Create a wreck of pain.
Destroy this face I've drawn.
Everything and anything is possible.
It will set me free

So What?
Could it really be me thinking this?
Or someone else just traveling through my mind,
like a step in time, a sway in place,
you can fly on your own, through space, time, or your happy place,
away from it all to the ends of the world and back again,
across the seven seas and the blue black sky of time.

The one place where time is a variable (interchangeable), chance a constant (inevitable),
and mood, as always, responds to your unorganized que (controlled).
All this thought is lost with our aging in which we learn (to be adult)
to smother ourselves, and our escape from reality.
The place that keeps us sane is immature (irrational), and is thus killed by society.
Earth, a rock, has been dubbed Hell (by some), and thus Heaven is what you make of it,
the unimaginable of the imaginative mind.

Weight of the World
I sit and think, ponder and wonder
Ask myself what's with all this trouble?
Looking at the world, the problems that we face -
Constructed by the progress of the human race
The created powers that we can't control,
It all starts to take its toll.
The people in power are in it for the green
The people on the ladder are struggling just to breathe
We're on a roll up a downwards climb
Will we ever turn around?
I guess we'll just have to see in time.
We create the tools of our own demise
Blades, bombs, guns, and hate
We fictionalize the enemy, a world away,
Just to draw our attention from the problems that we face -
Right at our doorstep, three feet away.
I can't explain in a rhyme why the world will fall in time
But you feel it too, you know it's true.
It's these things I think, these things I wonder
Wonder when the end will come?
When the world will become one?
All these thoughts are lead
Weighing down on me, and you, and him too
The weight of the problems faced by the people of today
I ask myself, will it ever go away?
Where is the love people?

Fly
You sat there with me under the stars
You asked me for forever and past that and more
I asked you an answer, I asked for the truth
I asked if you could promise forever and never let go
You smiled and laughed, looked at the moon
Thought about the plight and chuckled too
You told me simply, that life was too short
And that being with me would be all you would need
I smiled, and I thought, I could live with that
Now you tell me your feelings have changed
You're living life and need to be free
Fly my pretty, fly.

Goodbye Blue Sky
There's a time for hiding and a time for life
In the infancy of adulthood you expect
that which you can not, unable to comprehend
where it is you will end.

We're not as young as we used to be -
Hiding in our infancy.
Gazing upon the frightened ones,
Seeing now the delusioned ones,
Goodbye blue sky.

Adrenaline shots to keep the bastards at bay -
Helping to suffer the fiercest fights.
No escapes from reality, numbing the pain.

We're not as young as we used to be -
Hiding in our infancy.
Gazing upon the frightened ones,
Seeing now the delusioned ones,
Goodbye blue sky.

I can't feel you anymore, no -
I'm alone now, on my own.
There's nothing left to say.
Life carries me away.

We're not as young as we used to be -
Hiding in our infancy.
Gazing upon the frightened ones,
Seeing now the delusioned ones,
Goodbye blue sky.

Silence Now
Midnight ghost whisperings
Hushed violence of the falling silence
A pondering awe, vauge, serene
A trip in time, a step in space
An imaginative tendancy of mine
A lost thought, a quaver, a simple rhyme
Consecrated cocophony collides with car
A chime, the drop of a dime, simply a pantomime.
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