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    99 The Assassination of Dark Poetry

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    only yet to reveal

      An even lonelier body without a soul to revere

      The mime spread his wings of might

      As the mime revealed his trueness of flight

     

      Satan cries turned to fear as he saw who it was

      The holy one standing tall with a look of despise

      For the King on the floor was sent by his hand

      To remove the knife from my heart and place it in Satan's back

     

      I stopped the death of the one who killed me

      I out of fear turned to my hero and now the devil lives

      I will truly be banished from the pearly life of glee

      I will now be in eternal fear for I feared my hero

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

      The Dead Angel in my mind

     

     

      Why does silence have to make so much damn noise

      I hear nothing but the beat of my lonely heart and voices

      The voices are not mine, nor anyone that I know of poise

      But the voices are from the other side using me as their toy

     

      I feel my mind and my soul get shoved to the side

      I find my guardian angel dead on the floor of my mind

      The things that killed it are the same that are killing me

      The voices in my head are overrunning my kind

     

      I hear a faint noise that I know all too well

      As the circus of my angel lays lonely with a broken heart

      The voice is that of my first love, the voice is that that is killing me

      The deafening tones of silence paired with the dagger of my first love

     

      It is this "heroin" that once loved me that is killing my current love

      It is this demonizing soul that is tormenting my heart to stop beating

      For now is the time of the resurrection of these thoughts

      As my heart remembers all too well of the dead angel on the floor

     

      The blood from my angel runs truly in my veins

      I feel its last moments in my heart that has stopped beating

      My first love has succeeded in destroying all others

      For the dead Angel on the floor is really a silent me

     

     

     

      The Prism of Almighty returns home

     

     

      Capturing the sunlight in his prism

      The chosen one absorbs the pain

      For he is out to unleash the fury

      As the sunlight gives him power to reign

     

      The prism came from the hands of the wary

      The hands were those of the fallen angel

      Shunned from light as he had no use

      For the crystal that would help him return to dwell

     

      Words spread fast like the wind from a cave

      The words were in the ancient language of Brata

      For this language was formally used to convey

      As the lord and his angels knew the only words to say

     

      As the message came through across heaven’s gate

      The Angels of light spread their wings with haste

      For now is the time to defend our race

      As the dark one breathes with tremendous hate

     

      The prism alive now filled with the power of light

      The chosen one arriving with a hellish delight

      Accompanied by those with no souls and fear

      The winged warriors waiting for the coming of the near

     

      The ghouls with their eyes no longer alive

      Seek to destroy the demise of the flighting hive

      The hive filled with beams of light to destroy

      As the prism was raised to absorb the contours

     

      As the light hit the crystal a shining did occur

      The ghouls now had eyes along with wings of glamour

      Now the ghouls have wings high as might

      Now the ghouls turn to angels to fight for right

     

      Chosen one now set eyes upon the formal of the many

      He cries as his knees pound to the ground as though wary

      The prism now back in the hands of almighty

      Banished back to hell with his master now so tiny

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

      The Death Of Our Maker

     

     

      Crime scene investigators were searching in every corner

      Looking for that last piece of evidence to convict

      All that was found in the dark room with no furniture

      Was a lightless halo, few feathers, and blood as though pricked

     

      “Situation not too good” said the chief investigator

      I cannot explain where this all came from as we need

      Whose blood is this on the cold linoleum floor?

      If it is the blood of the holy one why does he bleed?

     

      The bounty hunter now with a new assignment

      To find the one who killed the creator

      Situation has arisen from the west he felt through his senses

      That the killer is still lurking better known as the new maker

     

      The lonely hunter trailing the wanted again feels this curse

      From the south it came as though trailed on a hearse

      Except this time the hunter was being hunted from the abyss

      As a horn rose up high as fire erupted slitting his wrist

     

      The new creator stood above the hunters decaying body

      Life now ejected from his eyes blackened out with light

      Before the hunter could lock eyes on the murderer so holy

      A voice struck from the darkened room where he lay lonely

     

      The voice was that of himself as he saw a reflection in the mirror

      “Who is the killer of the creator and soon to be me” he stated

      As the mirror opened up revealing the new maker he startled

      Their eyes met and he saw the lightless halo, few feathers and his blood

     

      His blood dripping from the hands of the wingless angel of the dark

      The hunters eyes closed ever so slowly in pure disbelief of what he saw

      The murderer of the creator of life was his right hand man who beckoned as his

      call

      The murderer sought revenge on his creator

      ..the murderer was Lucifer

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

      ytirucesnI

     

     

      How do you measure insecurity?

      Based on other peoples mind?

      OR based on your past experience

      Why do you care what I think?

      Why do you spell insecurity as Y-O-U

      Forever calm is the person who knew

      Your ever charm is a lack that you spew

      Insecurity invokes unhappiness with us

      But maybe I am the insecure one by saying this


      Maybe it is I who is truly insecure

      By caring what you think

      By saving the last drink

      For none other than my thirsty ego

      I know it is not me because why?

      Let me rephrase this so you can see

      I am not insecure, because I know me

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

      Faith of a Follower

     

     

      Pondering, to ponder to much usually results in idle hands

      Why question things so many times

      Why can’t we as humans accept that we are here by accident

      I would doubt if a magical man in a robe sprinkled fairy dust

      !Poof! Let there be light!

      Six degrees of separation connect us all, so they say

      Well if we were 1 degree closer to the sun….

      Would we maybe have 3 eyes? Maybe a life with no despise?

      Forget about it….

      Again stop your torture of trying to find answers and just be

      Pretty soon we all die, so why worry about uncontrollable things

      If it helps to create magic in our minds to ease our minds of death

      Lets create other magical items….

      How about a pink fairy that takes pain away when loved ones die

      What about the angel of light to submit to when we coincide

      How about a Looney Tune called bugs bunny to pray to,

      At least we can see him

      Put your faith in what you can see…

      Put your faith in nothing….

      And be…

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

      Status of the Lonely

     

     

      I see you looking around the room hoping someone will notice your Gucci watch

      I see you checking yourself in the mirror to make sure your pearls are straight

      I also see you as a lonely soul who has no idea how to please your mind

      Other than buying expensive items to bring your status to acceptance

      What you don’t realize is you are the fool that avoids reality

      By purchasing the fluff in life to balance your lack of being

      All the glitter in the world cannot produce who you really want to be

      Take your uncertainness, your warped view on life, your high hill living

      And stash it in the trunk of your Rolls Royce and wait for someone like you

      You may have to wait a while as you still will not accept their friendship

      For they may not have what you are looking for, they may be so 2005

      When you find yourself surrounded by these warped fake individuals

      It will be too late, for the world would have moved on without you

      Father time will show everyone what you are consisted of

      For now will be the time of your resurrection into the reality of being

      Either you take the opportunity to figure it out and grow up

      Or stay behind and enjoy the company of shadows that are cast by your wounds

      As true being is not what you are, but who you are

      I guess you have not come to your conclusion yet

      I guess you are so 2005

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

      Just let me be ME

     

     

      Why cant you look deeper than the surface of things

      Is it that hard to see what I really do for you?

      Why do you constantly choose to see things from the top?

      Instead can't you see what I really do to


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