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| I Tire of the Voices that Play in my Head. That Solus tone that seems to Quake and Burn me. I Tire of the Vision before me. The Dreams that Swirl my reality into ripples. I Tire of the Dreamless nights. The Days Stalked with Illusionary displacement. The Screams that Echo in My mind. Maddness is Uncalcualated. Lunacy. I am Calculated. I am Insane. I Wish there was a Cure. |
| Upon my Perch I over look the masses, as they drone and twist as one. I Fear that end, That I may be part of the mass, no more seperate than the particles of water. That my grest expectation is to wake...and to sleep. That my life is a plan followed exactly. That day in and day out the same things shall cascade before me. That one moment I will lose my Realitivity to my own soul. I fear the Moment when I am part of the Masses. I Rest upon a Perch so High that I would guild myselve ubove them...But Ignorance is Bliss; For my Place I burn and Cripple myself for it. That I am weaked and they mass as one, and I am Alone. Why shall I Struggle for this Place ubove the Populus...Why do you Read this? Why waste your time and sift through pages and pages of my Mentale...Because its Intruges, Becauses it Draws you in. I write for myself, With Mercy I let you read it to feed you intellect and I may bliss you with something more than the Common Demoninator; Stupidity. |
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| Crowned in Candle, Danced in the night were only I can see the shadows. Why would you dwell within my haven when it scares you...Why would you be so darken to the slave or darkness, one whose quill is soly tears. Frightfully Blessed, I am. To see in the clouded mist of moor that dreams are alive within us, that fariies play in your hair, and the imp scammper under foot. Was it so long lost your imagination gave you massage to myst and lore...are you so late in your youth no longer can you feel the hangs spirit lift you, That guardians still watch over us..In Darkness Crawl Orges and Demons. Why is that even now you will give way to reality in place of Fairies and that of Good Spirits, and when it comes to Shadows and darkness you still coil, Is it not the reality that darkness is merely the absence of light, and White the Pressence of it. Would not White be Equaly as Scary... I would dwell within Dormancy rather than glide into your world. With Broken wings and a soul that still echos with youth, still years I shall play in gardens I created. Equality between my Soul and my Imagination. View me as a Man playing ina childs world if you well, but atlest I do not look twice into the darkness to know I safe... |
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| Puff, the magic dragon, Lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist In a land called Honah Lee. Little Jackie Paper Loved that rascal Puff, And brought him strings and sealing wax And other fancy stuff. Together they would travel On a boat with billowed sail. Jackie kept a lookout perched On Puff's gigantic tail. Noble kings and princes Would bow whenever they came, Pirate ships would lower their flags When Puff roared out his name. Oh! |
| A dragon lives forever, But not little girls and boys. Painted wings and giant rings Make way for other toys. One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more And Puff that mighty dragon, He ceased his fearless roar. His head now bent in sorrow, Green scales fell like rain, And Puff no longer went to play Along that cheery lane. Without his life-long friend, He could not be brave So Puff that mighty dragon Sadly slipped into his cave. Puff, the magic dragon Lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist In a land called Honah Lee. |
| Thank you ; to Natasha for Reminding..me. |
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| "Dreams Play in my mind like Rain, Trickling Droplets that keep falling.... `Tis no longer a gift I would give up. It is an Existance that breaths life into a Corpse..." |
| everything else just might be right, I've fallen too far to wishes, and it's so good... ~From Cale |