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These TracksAs I lie here on these train tracks
I wait to pay my final tax
Reminisce of memories shared
Until the end that you've declared
The sun fell and the moon arose
Escaping the trees are the crows
I'm envious of their free wings
Such emotion heartbreak brings
In midnight sky I see your face
My soul wanders to a special place
But if I leave, you'll still be there
A remembrance of grand despair
Who has meant the most to me
You're the only one I see
This is difficult to withstand
If only you could understand
Your lips are one memory I truly miss
So when you and your lover begin to kiss
Anger swells up within my veins
Adrenaline can't break these chains
Destiny is fate, there is no excuse
I'm stuck here singing lovesick blues
Wishing on stars for a second chance
Just that one last, final dance
My watch tells me it's time to go
My departure will be far from slow
There's one more message that I must send
Before into Heaven I transcend
I still love you, whatever I say
My love for you grows more ea
Beyond Your GatesYou've always been here
Yet I still wonder
Why our relationship
Has gone asunder
Look at my eyes
Look how time flies
One day you just left
Where did you go
Please tell me very soon
This I must know
Why did you leave
Why make me grieve
You need to get courage
To open your eyes
Look at your residence
That would be wise
Grab your suitcase
Leave your disgrace
Come live with me
There's plenty to see
Born to ProtectThe red sun above shines so bright
Guiding our way with its grand light
Down on the Earth exist the guided
Those special souls that live divided
Each living soul has a protector
Whom is one of God's many spectres
Sworn to guard its child 'till death
When the child takes its last breath
Whether the child punches its foe
Or murders him and gets sent to Death Row
The protector shall always be there
Even if the child does not care
When the child finds itself an adult
The protector will feel much guilt
The child will go its separate way
The protector will have nothing to say
The protector will pay its final tax
But protectors possess wings of wax
They fly to the sun to say good bye
Their wings melt and then they die
Please understand this now, my love
You are my wondrous, beautiful dove
I'm your protector, here to serve you
Never leave, and I'll stay here too
Audiohead IThe Arkansas desert sun seemed to have been exerting all its energy that one day, that one summer day, for the temperature had risen ten degrees above the norm. He sat in his room motionless, simply watching the wall; watching the wall to see if it would move. He was convinced that the wall was going to move. Move and encircle him and the world around him in such a way that escape would be impossibly; not even a thought. It did not move; in fact, it never moved. Not a single inch nor single centimeter, for the wall moving would completely defy the the laws of motion that Isaac Newton had defined.
In an quick, swift motion, he leapt up from his seat and sprinted to the wall that he had been staring at for nearly an hour and pushed it with both of his hands. The wall ceased to move. He kicked the wall with his right leg. The wall ceased to move. The wall was not going to surrender to the likes of him. He started to yell until his lungs gave out and the heat overtook him; eventually, he f
Dying IntentThe crimson flicker off in the distance startled the postman. He wore thick-rimmed glasses to aid his sight, but even with them, he could not make out what the flicker wa. He thought about it for a while as he walked towards his next town, and suddenly realized that it was in the same direction of his destination. He wondered if it was a village festivity or event that he was unaware of. After walking another mile, the postman decided to give it a rest and wait until he arrived to figure everything out. The nearest road sign told him that he had nine more miles to go.
After three miles of walking, the Sun began to rise. The postman felt that he needed a short rest, so he sat on the closest bench and drank half of his water bottle. Just as he was about to continue his journey, he was stopped by a group of three highwaymen. They asked him if he had seen any news reports about three thieves stealing from innocent passerby. The postman said he did not, and the highwaymen exchanged glances.
Machine of LifeWe are all just cogs
The machine of life
Always moving on
Some cogs are larger
While others are not
Quiet minute ones
Still complete their jobs
The giant switch man
He who turns it on
Can turn right around
And turn it back off
Cogs live in much fear
Shutting down is scary
But those cogs worry
Whilst others do not
Cogs do not differ
That much in between
But without one cog
The machine would fail
WallowdengarsenSilently sits the intrigued astronomer
Wondering at what the dolop brings
But oh, what a task at hand he has!
Waiting 'till the gruesnort sings
Observing with montear but not vigor
Atop his high and mighty taurel
But below this darsnit of an abode
Waits the quick and nimble martel
To send a dersode to all the venthrush
Asking for their unpaid tax
But 'tis this act that tires him out
And renders him unable to relax
Although there is much mathera that stands
Deep in thought he waits and wonders why
Even though there is much forest and landscape
There is nary a soul that ventures by
He checks the insides of his taurel
To discover if there was a fladure
But fladure 'twas not, yet still it annoys
There must be some way to forge a lure
At once he notices a girl follow the trail
He waved but she pardamares and takes a detour
She nearly uteracks and falls off-path for
She was distracted by the Wallowdengarsen's snore
The church bells ring albeit the distance
Dolotites scream and run about the
I Want AnswersWhat happens when you love someone, but you can't stand their face?
What happens when all you have is just yourself to embrace?
What happens when your heart is going at the fastest pace?
What happens when your heart is the object you misplace?
Who is the one who will give me every answer I need?
Who is the one that makes me get on my knees and plead?
Who is the one who makes me depressed and roll up my weed?
Who is the one who restricts my ability to proceed?
When will this abhorrent torture ever end?
When will I finally find this necessary friend?
When will you finally be able to comprehend?
When will our relationship ever be able to mend?
Where do I get the broom to clean up this mess?
Where do I go to relieve all this stress?
Where do I go to just take all my pain and repress?
Where will I end up, does anybody have a guess?
Why did you even do all of this to me?
Why did you put our love under lock and key?
Why do you always assume my life is worry-free?
Why can't you realize that yo
Prevaricated CommitmentDo you remember the days as well as I do?
We sat in my room, chatted, it was just us two
Then one of those days I decided to ask you
Is our love just imaginary or is it really true?
You just sat there and thought for a minute
It took a while but you finally answered it
All you said was you were not sure if it's legit
But you reassured me by saying let's wait a little bit
But waited I have for one too many years
This calm stature I present is not what is appears
On the other side of the pillow I shed tears
When you sleep-talk I hear about him, I know this, I've got ears
Who is this other guy you've got on your mind?
Who is this guy whom all along you kept behind?
Every day the subtle hints do well to remind
Every little thought of my feelings love to unwind
You sat in your office just drinking coffee
I pull your chair back and ask why you can't see
I'm dying inside is what I say as I plea
Just tell me the truth, do you really love me?
You smile a bit, and you tell me I'm your soul mate
Immutable DevotionBound and determined; words that burn me in places that no person should ever experience. "Bound and determined" she says, as though she has any notion of the turmoil; simmering behind every smile that I force for her comfort. I don't think she even realizes how her flamboyant optimism sears me; char upon char, until my remnants are tissue paper tears. Scars layering scars, penetrating so deeply, that my soul has become a leper.
She waffles on; her words distant and hollow, as the ocean of my defeat silently swallows me whole. I can't help but admire her benevolence; formidability that is nothing short of impregnable, if only I had her strength. I'm not a pessimist, though I am a pragmatist; guaranteeing failure in this nefarious skirmish that I did not choose.
For her, I keep my silence; for her, I soldier on. Though I bite my tongue through the copious fusillades that incessantly barrage my feeble and cumbersome carcass; I know I am a coward at heart. If not for her, I would have
Ghosts taught me to think in magicIt seemed worthless, we knew best but for some reason there was always another day to fix everything, even the day it self.
Our anger, the nerves, such exquisite toxins. Our mortal lives waste and waste... always so late, too late... going for more time, more money. Pitying more loss, more cost. Devouring all out of control... like there is not enough.
Things happen only when a question is raised. Like a rotting-soulless that needs blessing to rest in peace. Naive optimists, they are misguided. We lie a lot. Humans... right? What a lie, such an excuse... just flesh. And the worst part is that lies cant change anything. A smile cant cure laziness or bad choices.
Stay real, my friend. Because... Can you remember the last time you stopped and reasoned? Or the last time you spoke words like „Do it tomorrow ” and then „Time flies...” ? It makes no sense, so think about it tomorrow.
Remember that we are around for you. The tortured souls in your room or behind the gla
What We Thought Was World PeaceI have spent so many years making my way to the top of the legendary mountain to have my one wish granted, world peace. There are so many people in this world that deserve better, and we should all be equal.
I reach the mountain and was greeted by an old man, “What brings you to my mountain?”
“I would like to make my wish. It is just like the legends foretold; I have spent a year of my life climbing up the throat of the world, and now…and now my dream will come true…”
“Now, you should know that the wish you make is final and can’t be reversed. Be careful what you wish for.” The old man told his words with great respect to me.
“Th-the time has come.” I was getting nervous, but at least I knew that there was no wrong way this wish could go.
“Make your wish, young one.”
I clapped my hands together and bowed, “I wish for world peace.” My words were final. And I was proud.
He gave a long sigh an
Old man? "Old man?"
"Could you please tell me of Them? Of your favorite project?"
"Heh. Yes, I suppose I could tell you of them. But you heard this story many times.
Don't you get bored by it?"
The one referred to as Old man is smiling the smile reserved for the quirks of the
young "Alright, alright, settle down." He says "Well, as you know, first I-"
"I don't want to be rude." Said the young one "But can tell me about how it started with Them?"
"Hmph. Oh, alright." Says the Old man with only mild irritation in his voice."Well, at first it was just a hobby, you know?
Something to pass the time. But, as I kept them for longer and longer my interest in them grew: A sociable species is
nothing new, and neither is adapting to your surroundings." The Old man's face spread with a slow grin that was
barely insane "But a species that adapted it's surrounding to itself, not the othe
Winter's Cold TouchI walk to the front door of my house; the cold wind gives me shivers. I grab the golden nob and crank it open. A gust of warm air hits my face, prickling away my goose bumps. When I enter, I strip of my heavy coat and boots to keep the house from my wet clothing. My feet touch the tile and sends jolts up my spine due to its icy resemblance. I walk to the kitchen and warm some water in the microwave to make hot chocolate. I wait as the whirring of the heater turns on, warming the house. The water is done; I drop spoons of starchy powder into the smooth hot wavering water. The exes floating powder entered my nose; I take in the scent of sweet chocolate, but soon close the lid. The couch at the end of the room is beckoning me. As I drift to where it sit, I pass the glass window and watch the meek raindrops beat against the glass. Slowly, I lower myself onto the couch and cuddle with the cushions, which were lightly sprinkled with a cold that soon dissolves by my touch. As the house fell s
El humano y el gato. El gato y el humano. El reloj de pared marcaba las tres de la madrugada. Su monótono tick-tack no le estaba ayudando a dormirse y, a cada movimiento del sonoro segundero, sus nervios crecían más y más, incitados por el imparable correteo del tiempo. Sin poder soportarlo más, Naviel se levantó de la cama con la torpeza de quien ha estado bebiendo. En el escaso espacio hasta llegar a la puerta pudo tropezarse con una lata de cerveza vacía y con algún cojín al que anteriormente le había declarado la guerra, cuando su enfado y el efecto del alcohol todavía eran recientes.
Desarreglado y con bolsas bajo los ojos, el joven salió de su desastrosa habitación para dirigirse al jardín interior de su casa -o, mejor dicho, de la casa que compartía con sus tres compañeros de banda-. Subió las escaleras que se dirigían a la terraza y, una vez allí, saltó un pequeño muro. Así, pudo sen
Escala de coloresTodo parece tan poco interesante, visto desde aquí. Desde mis ojos. Vengo de un mundo lleno de destellos en la oscuridad e historias que contar, y ahora me encuentro esto.
Una exclamación me llama torpemente, como si hacerle caso fuera lo más sensato. Eso es lo que hace la gente. Pero yo miro y miro... y no veo nada. Es todo gris. Impersonal. Frío. Distante. Hasta las luces blancas de la entrada me parecen pintadas en la pared, de imitación, como para dar el pego.
Entro y me encuentro lo que ya conozco. Pasillos, focos reflejados en el suelo, puertas, escaparates, muñecos que parecen personas y personas que parecen muñecos. Todavía no sé distinguirlos muy bien. No les pongo cara. Los veo todos iguales... Grises. Negros. Blancos. Qué más da.
Todo es tan igual, tan repetitivo que me pierdo aunque siga todo recto. Todo distrae, todo engaña y todo grita con todas sus fuerzas para llamar la atención.
Be your own life's MichelangeloBe your own life's Michelangelo
I just had 16 years old, and I just lost two of the poeple I cared the most about : My grandparents. It's the first time that I loose someone I old dear... I don't really know how to react, I always had a tendency to look in the past and grief... This didn't help this habit of mine at all... Once again, I though about what I could have said, or done. What I did, and said, and what I couln't now. Me, that was always kind of the phylosopher, I should have use that time with them, to ask, talk about, what they saw life as... I could have, I should have... I can't anymore, and it hurt me, that I have been so naive to think I could have the time later.
I was always the kind to let myself floating in the river of life, and then, complain about what life had taken me...
It's some month that I use this to shot poeple out...
One day, when I was walking in the city center, I saw a young girl in a street, she seemed to be painting on a wall. Intrigued, I began
One Thousand ClocksI sat in my old desk chair behind the counter, staring at the people walking past the storefront and completely ignoring me. I leaned back and the chair creaked loudly, I grumbled in reply.
“Should get that fixed...” I mumbled under my breath. What would be the point of getting it fixed, though? Why not just buy another chair? I stood up and the chair creaked again. I kicked at it, but it just slid across the floor on it’s wheels a short distance, before hitting the wall.
Slowly walking out from behind the counter, I wandered around my small clock-shop, tweaking hands and tapping glass faces. Some clocks weren’t ticking anymore, in fact there was a large wall in the back of the store filled with clocks that were unusable. The batteries hadn’t run out, they were just not functioning. I couldn’t bear to get rid of them, though. Each clock told some kind of story, and each one was special. A cough rattled my frail body and it t
Journal of the RemnantIf I knew how this would all turn out, well, I still would have taken this path. It's not worth it, you know. The one closer to me was easier to reach. The other was farther away, but on the end, there was a shining gold that looked like all I ever wanted. It was all I ever needed, and I stared as you waited on the end of the other trail. I didn't take it, though; I couldn't be troubled. I went down the closer path and I tripped and I fell and couldn't get back up, and still I lay on the floor, just looking at the shining gold light on the edge of the other trail that has evaded me ever since. If I could redo one thing in my entire lifetime, I would rewind to just about the point at the fork roads, look closer at the light to see what I wanted, ever needed, and then choose the same path again because it's the way that I was meant to venture.
Let us go back before I even entered that dastardly forest, shall we? I was just a wanderer travelling on a boundless highway; there were exits, b
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It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More