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Some lyrics.

Songwriting
Ambientrage  
12 Sep 2008 18:30 | Quote
Joined: 10 Sep 2008
United States
Licks: 4
Karma
Yeah. I don't actually have any music lined up for these pieces, so I apologize in advanced if you had any expectation for that.

So, I think I'll just post one or two every now and then whenever I come across more words in my mind to let flow out. Rather... I just don't want to post too much at once. Haha.

"Emancipation of Self"



Growing in your household,
I can't stand your rules,
And I'm no fool;
I'm gonna break free,
Emancipate myself!
Escape your purgatory,
Emancipate for good health.

Like a tape recording,
You just go on and on,
Discordant nothingness,
In your dissonant song,
I'm your little plaything!
Limit me! Control me!
It's a crime to be free!
When you're causing the pain,
This life takes no refrain!

I'm gonna, gonna break free,
Your words never meant much,
Gonna let myself see,
Your world was just a crutch.

Helping hand for demise,
Throw me another bone,
Nothing is a surprise,
In this predictable home,
Wake, then fall back asleep,
Your rule is such a bore,
Leading me like herds of sheep,
Until my mind's no more.

But I'm gonna escape,
Get off this one way ride,
Determine my own fate,
Stay on my own damn side,
Gimme gimme gimme,
Sweet emancipation
It's now time to be free
Finding my own salvation.

I can't wait to get free
And get my own damn place
This life just wasn't meant for me
And now these words are coming free:
In your god damn face.


Reality


And when I look into your eyes
I can see all the contempt,
But I can't really blame you,
I'm actually in assent,
For you obviously know,
Just what is proper in life,
Lining up in your dirty row,
Paying respect to your knife,
You just make me sick.

Tear yourself into pieces,
And let me reassemble them,
Let me come to my thesis,
And tear it all on up again,

I'm standing in rank and file,.
In line with allegiance of sick,
Distort, destroy, defile,
Disaster dictates this derelict,
Disassociation and death,
Dampening dying breath,
Daringly diving down,
Digging deeper to be found,
There is no meaning that we want,
More than to say that we care,
But life is just our grand witch hunt,
'twas never meant to be fair.
TheAmericanBrit  
12 Sep 2008 18:47 | Quote
Joined: 03 Sep 2008
United States
Karma: 1
First one is nothing but gay teenage angst.

Not sure what to think about the second one.
CTown  
12 Sep 2008 18:55 | Quote
Joined: 14 Jul 2008
United States
Licks: 1
Karma: 1
Like the second one. I think you put things together in a clever manner in both. Problem with the first one is that it sounds like whining about getting grounded or something. Some cool stuff in it, but just didn't like the theme. Second one has much more depth to it.
Phip  
12 Sep 2008 19:00 | Quote
Joined: 23 Dec 2007
United States
Lessons: 1
Karma: 45
Moderator
@ Ambientrage
THIS IS YOUR FATHER SPEAKING! As long as you live under my roof, you'll live by my rules mister!
LOL
I like your ability to stay with the tempo and not let the lyrics get away from you. Good rage and vocabulary though the first 7 lines you might change if you come back to it in a few days or weeks. my favorite verse is this one.....

"But I'm gonna escape,
Get off this one way ride,
Determine my own fate,
Stay on my own damn side,
Gimme gimme gimme,
Sweet emancipation
It's now time to be free
Finding my own salvation"

Nice job,
Phip
Ambientrage  
13 Sep 2008 15:43 | Quote
Joined: 10 Sep 2008
United States
Licks: 4
Karma
Haha. Thanks, Phip. As to the whole angst thing of the first song, yeah, I guess you could say that's pretty much what it is. but I had ran it by my friend, my rhythm guitarist, and he liked it. I guess. I mean, a lot of it was edited by him because he wanted to ruin it. It was probably better before he hit it up. even so.

Thank you for your comments, Phip. I like to stick to, at most, 7 syllables per line. I'd give you an analysis with meter and all that, but really, I don't stick to much meter, I typically just utilize the amount of syllables and rhyme as my main devices.

Now, if I were to actually speak what the first one is of, most would probably assume I'm just trying to defend stupid teenage angst. But, whatever works. I was talking with my rhythm guitarist one night about potential songs, and the whole emancipation of self song came forth as a way of expressing "how bored I am with this life and how I want to do something new." As in, a way to escape the apathy that is on the shell of every day life. I can't really defend my own stupidity too well. But, essentially, it isn't necessarily "oh my god you grounded me i h8 mai lief lulz," it's just saying "I respect you and this and all, but I really don't give a shit anymore and I need to get away from this."

Anyways, on to others.

Escape


On the sign of a spotted nation,
Our dreams populate the world,
We are the new generation,
Of acceptance and hate unfurled,
Dancing upon the dotted lines,
We are our own divider,
Enslaved to our worsening times,
A gift of frankincense and myrrh.

So cheers, drink up to sorrow,
And let's laugh our pain away,
Today, yesterday, and tomorrow,
Are just concepts anyway.

So let's just keep on in song,
In hopes that we might be heard,
Everything that we've done is wrong,
We're just another dream deterred,
But I just can't deny the fun,
Of making up these stories,
We're living life on the run,
And escaping life's big freeze,
Oh I'm but another punk,
Who's here to say just this:
"This world is just so dysfunkt,
So dare I make a list?

Lines of people waiting there,
Walking into death,
Acting like they give no care,
Denying their breath,
Oh, walking into this life,
I can say without a doubt,
I'd rather take a tainted knife,
Than be the living devout.

So try to escape this place,
If you can run all night and day,
We all see the look on your face,
But life has nothing to say"


Idol


They call you a hero,
but you're nothing special.
They idolize, epitomize,
Put you up on your pedestal,
All alone, you rise,
Using the strength of your soul,
but you're no Nero.

believe, and believe again,
You can't change the truth,
You're no martyr,
You're no Jesus Christ,
It's only getting harder,
For you to fit that archetype.

Come down from Cloud Nine,
Rejoin us "normal" folk,
Your own true kind,
Or, you'll see in time,
That pain easily gained,
Is all you will ever know.

Don't lie to yourself,
You're no better than me,
Don't condemn yourself to Hell,
Just because you're unwilling to see.

You're no friend of mine,
Yet I will give you this advice:
You're no super hero,
And you will never be,
It all seems nice,
Still, you've got to know,
That you'll just be lost to time.


Apathy


The feeling of being hunted,
I wish I could change this place,
But I'm just a little kid,
In your eyes, I'm that disgrace,
Just another punk in the streets,
Trying only to exist,
We never accept defeat,
There's always another twist,
Don't you just wish you could go?
Well, what would you ever know?
It's not that hard when you try,
It's never been hard to die,
So don't yet put down that knife,
Go on, end your so-called life.

So don't yet put down that knife,
Go on, end your so-called life.


Heather  
14 Sep 2008 06:26 | Quote
Joined: 21 Aug 2008
United Kingdom
Licks: 2
Karma: 19
well, I'm into country so it's hard for me to say...especially with Apathy...I'm happy being alive thanks! Theyre all a little depressing for this little chicken!

But I suppose my favourate's idol...it's modest to me at least! But I do here a nice rytymn with the first verse of it for definate.

CTown  
14 Sep 2008 22:58 | Quote
Joined: 14 Jul 2008
United States
Licks: 1
Karma: 1
ARage: I really like your writing style. You have a good mix of vocab and solid rhythm structures. I think my favorite is Escape. Sounds like there may be a couple of rough patches, but can't tell for sure till I hear it. You planning on recording any of these? B/C I'd like to hear them.
TheAmericanBrit  
14 Sep 2008 23:00 | Quote
Joined: 03 Sep 2008
United States
Karma: 1
You have good vocabulary (spelling check, please), and rhythm, but your lyrics themselves are even more apathetic than Nirvana's (and not in a good way).

Ambientrage  
15 Sep 2008 00:25 | Quote
Joined: 10 Sep 2008
United States
Licks: 4
Karma
Heather: I quite enjoy country myself, typically more for bluegrass and general banjo breakdowns. But yeah, I appreciate that you can still enjoy what I have written despite the fact that it is of a different genre than that of which you would normally like. I didn't mean for Apathy to come off as depressing, it's more like a "hey, shut up" type of thing. You know, boredom, high school, whatever, right?

CTown: If my actual band ever gets together, I intend to get many, many recordings. Haha. I'll be sure to let anyone who wants to hear anything know if I ever write anything.

TheAmericanBrit: Yeah? I never really thought of it that way. I don't pay much attention to the actual lyrics, just the concepts hidden behind them. Not even hidden, just, the subtext, I guess most might call them. I suppose I should probably pay more attention to them. But thanks, yeah? I haven't blown my head off with a firearm yet, so, yeah. Haha. Anyways. Point in case is... Blah. Yeah.

The next two things that I'm gonna post, please, seriously, feel free to laugh at all you want. They really are stupid, but yeah... they're also quite old. Haha.

Schizophrenia


Hello, I'm a gun, and I'll direct your hatred,
Hello, I'm a bullet, I'll appropriate your revenge,
Hello, I'm the one, I'll make you feel sedated,
Hello, I'm God, and I took you off the hinge;

I am your master now, and I will control,
I will eradicate, eliminate, annihilate,
In your heart, your soul, there is a hole,
And with my love it might disapparate,
But to earn my love, you must destroy;
To earn my favour, you must be coy;
To feel the splendor of my hallowed grave,
Let these bullets tear apart their reality,
To understand how to truly behave,
You must only look to see...

I am your lord, your almighty, your king,
And I command you, condemn!
They never gave any praise, such to sing,
So they deserve nothing, it's their sin.
Just kill, kill, kill, with no regard to life,
Destroy, destruct, and then salvation.
This world is so full of pain and strife,
I was the one who gave you animation;
I was the one who brought you to life,
And as such, I request that you do this,
Else I end your life with the edge of a knife,
Unless you kill, kill, kill, may your bullets never miss.

And now that your job is done,
Enter now my hallowed place,
In one hand, blood, the other, gun,
A bullet prepped to fly through a face,
In the crowd, you lay yourself to rest,
And allow yourself to see your lord,
In rank with the worst and the best,
Your soul is now mine to horde.


Video Games Taught Me
(yeah, this is the silly one, sillier out of the two.)


In the game, I'm Turok, the dino slayer,
Ripping a tomahawk through the raptor,
Makes me think of that one real life hater,
And want to unlock the next chapter...

Everytime I see them in the halls,
They see through me, to the walls,
Act like I don't even exist,
I oughta teach them to cease and desist;
I find myself at home, curious,
Tearing through the streets of Vice City,
And it only makes me more and more disturbed,
I feel like I'm cracking, as I tell you life is shitty,
And I'm tired of going unheard.

So just what form of solution is there?
Perhaps I might change my living,
Drag myself out of this pit of despair,
But no, I've got an idea far more riveting...
With Beretta concealed, I walk silently to school,
And wait until the optimal time,
To teach them that this kid is no fool,
That this kid has reason to his rhyme...

First period, History comes up, I sit back and brood,
The topic today is something like the CiviI War,
I figure, what a topic to get me in the mood,
The thoughts will always be coming back for more...
And so soon the class ends, and I walk off to next,
Sitting in English, next to the teacher's desk,
He goes on and on about Ralph Emerson,
While all the excuses run through my mind...
"Video games taught me to wield a gun!
I deserve not to be fined!"
He snaps his look at me, and asks me a question:
"What is this Oversoul, Mr. Emerson's suggestion?"
So I fire right back an answer of great accuracy,
"Well, the oversoul is what connects all, you see...
'tis the item that bounds one man to another,
The so-called Divine Link, as I would call,
A link which no wrath could ever smother,
'tis the one, the everything, the all."
He looked to me strangely, and then went on,
Returning to his lecture on philosophy,
And the importance of Ralph Waldo Emerson,
Whether we realize it or not, in society;

And then comes lunch time,
The time for me to glow.
I take beretta in hand,
And in my mind I know...
That all will soon be sand,
And I shall have what's truly mine...

In the middle of the hallway,
From the Beretta, a blast I produce,
And, before anyone has any say,
The population of Earth is reduced;
I see people in a daze and stupor,
And then the eyes drop to me,
In my mind, I'm a trooper,
And these souls I must set free...

I empty all but one shot,
And I can see them coming to me,
I put the gun to my head, barrel hot,
And pull the trigger, rest to free;
A blast issues, and I fall to the ground,
My job successfully done,
My body issues a powerful pound,
It was all in good fun.

Soon after, they search my body,
For evidence, and the like,
They find something not too shoddy,
A note with words so trite...

"You all deserved what I did,
For the pain you put me through,
I had to keep my emotions hid,
Because I could not be true;
Where could I ever learn,
To greatly wield a gun?
Well, with no great concern,
Video games, my son.
And if you were to understand,
If you were to be in my mind,
Then you would know I died by your hand,
The very warrant by you signed;
So these video games taught me to shoot,
And they taught me how to kill with glee,
Taught me to reduce people to ash and soot,
And to eventually set myself free..."


And there's one more... This one wasn't originally a song, just a poem that I wrote, but I'm thinking about changing some things around and adapting it to music. Then again, I suppose it could just be lyric poetry put to music. Haha, bards.

Harmonic Blur


There you were, in the rain,
Tears streaming down,
Your face a blur in the mist,
Your eyes a cloud of gray,
Recounting life's past pain,
The crusing weight of this day,
Turned your smile into a frown,
It kills me to see you like this.

So I string the strings of love,
String them down your existence,
And tune them to my heart,
No more sad songs, not one chord,
Diatonic, minors and majors,
Melodic expressions lost since,
Love that my heart can afford,
I would've been yours from the start,
If you had only given me the shove,
And picked me up from these floors.

And I play you as my instrument,
Your acoustics not of this Earth,
With sound suffering no detriment,
That which defines my mirth,
And I look at your beauty,
And fall into eternal sublime,
For I have been blessed to see,
That which was lost to time;

Lost in your ceaseless vibrations,
I compose my endless opus,
The strings reverberating in eternity,
Sounds of pure melodious intent,
The harmony always building itself,
And the song always goes thus,
Resonant of your beauty,
Saving me from my own hell,
Creating our own personal nations,
You were truly God sent.

And when the strings snap,
And produce no more sound,
I will still sit here and clap,
I'll be glad it's you I found,
You made my life that much better,
Without you, I would hate to be,
You are my air, my sun, my weather,
It is you who lets me see.
baudelaire  
15 Sep 2008 01:12 | Quote
Joined: 16 Aug 2008
Brazil
Karma: 2
i don't know how to say this any other way... there is simply no beauty to your lyrics. i read them and i get the feeling i'm listening to the poetic equivalent of a cheesy backing track made with guitar pro or something.

it comes off to me as though you want to be pretentious and intelligent, and just manage to make something that autistic kids might write. and you're subject matter is sort of generic, and certainly not presented in a novel fashion.

but that's just my opinion.
Ambientrage  
15 Sep 2008 08:38 | Quote
Joined: 10 Sep 2008
United States
Licks: 4
Karma
Baudelaire: That's cool. Haha. Cheesy. Still, that's your opinion, and I very much respect it. Thanks for at least taking the time to share your opinion, I do enjoy that you would.
baudelaire  
15 Sep 2008 13:59 | Quote
Joined: 16 Aug 2008
Brazil
Karma: 2
mmh, refreshing. generally someone would just jump on me if i didn't shit rainbows all over someones work.
JazzMaverick  
15 Sep 2008 14:25 | Quote
Joined: 28 Aug 2008
United Kingdom
Lessons: 24
Licks: 37
Karma: 47
Moderator
Wow, I'm also amaized. I'm quite glad you didn't get offended.
Heather  
15 Sep 2008 15:17 | Quote
Joined: 21 Aug 2008
United Kingdom
Licks: 2
Karma: 19
My guess is baudeliare, everyone just got bored of you're remarks by now.
baudelaire  
15 Sep 2008 15:54 | Quote
Joined: 16 Aug 2008
Brazil
Karma: 2
i'm not here to entertain you...
TheAmericanBrit  
15 Sep 2008 16:01 | Quote
Joined: 03 Sep 2008
United States
Karma: 1
Baud may annoy the hell out of me, but my God, he's honest.
BodomBeachTerror  
15 Sep 2008 16:03 | Quote
Joined: 27 May 2008
Canada
Lessons: 2
Licks: 1
Karma: 25
..or he's a complete liar lol
Ambientrage  
15 Sep 2008 17:23 | Quote
Joined: 10 Sep 2008
United States
Licks: 4
Karma
Baudelaire: Yeah. I don't get offended because someone doesn't enjoy my work, or rather, doesn't see something pleasant in it, I guess one would say. It's your opinion, and it's a good thing that you can have your own. There's nothing for me to jump all over you for. I don't know, a lot of these things are quite old anyways. Like... back in 11th grade old. I mean, that was just last year, but styles can constantly change over just days, I figure. Like... I guess, I want to embarrass myself, so I could share some lyrics that I wrote like three years ago, in ninth grade.

Guidance


I can show you,
The secrets to life,
I can mold you,
into what is the hype,
I can destroy you,
And make you trite,
For, i am the giver, of Guidance.

I can bring the penultimate doom,
And the inevitable rebirth,
I can bring upon a death-plume,
Or, i can bring life to the earth
I follow you, much unknown to you,
Late at night,
And i watch, seeing what is true,
And perhaps, give you a fright,
I can make you realize your fears,
And i can bring them to sight,
I can take away years,
From your very precious life.

I am the final heretic,
In our common years,
I am the source of panic,
And the home of all your fears,
You hate to love me,
And love to hate me,
So, I must be,
The only one that can see.

I am he who has desire,
And he who cannot stop,
I am the rhythmic fire,
And I am the wicked workshop,
I am the bringer of famine,
And the portrayal of hate,
I just love to examine,
The people who are so irate,
I am the final fore-seer,
In our evil times,
And I am he who brings about fear..

I start your life,
And I very well end it,
I am the very-well tainted knife,
And I am the great bandit...

I am the one who gives you your Guidance.


Nr. 23


I want, You want,
We all can't attain,
Just a futile hunt,
Behind our disdain.

Shredding away,
Picking at our years,
We're nothing today,
But empty tears,
Can't embrace the fact,
That we are as we are,
Can't make a pact,
To change just how far (it goes),
Gotta stop waiting for death,
Get active now,
Don't waste any time on the method,
Lest you be slaughtered like a simple cow,

Born in a fire,
Killed in a blaze,
No one to admire,
No one to amaze,
Sentenced to monotony,
A conviction of death,
Swimming through the dark sea,
With a shortage of breath,
I want, I need, I should,
You take, you rip, you remove,
Is this how you would have it,
Beating against a single groove?

Strike back at me,
We want, we require, we need,
The sky is dark, and we still see,
That we are the last seed,
Live it up while you can,
Beat back to the melody,
Control comes like a battering ram,
Swift and hard, your life is the fee,
It's a weapon of pure deception,
Of greed, of lust, of hate,
With no welcoming reception,
Holding power over your fate.

Machines of hatred and death,
And abstract concepts of war,
As addictive as crystal meth,
Knocking down the sanctuary door,
Strike back, fight back,
Get to the core,
The knowledge you could never lack,
Control is but an eyesore,
For those who have the power,
And the concept of life,
Born in a bullet shower,
Ended with a knife,
They live for us,
Night and day,
Our protection, our lust,
Revolves on what they say.

I have nothing more,
I have nothing less,
No blood, no gore,
No wound, no dress,
I leave with these words,
I bestow upon thee,
May I be heard, for,
For all of humanity.


Like, seriously. It embarrasses me to no end to even think of reading some of those older things, I think they're so silly.

But, I try my best to write something that has significant outward meaning, and not just some form of inner meaning that can only be gleaned from it after making a few passes at it. I don't know. Perhaps you did make a few passes at it, and I just have a different way of expressing myself than what you are used to. Whatever reasoning there is, it doesn't matter. Critique is good, no matter if it's pretty and sugar-coated, or like a big bowl of shit being force fed to you. The only way one can grow as a person is to accept critique as constructive, and not be offended, yeah?

Aye... I'm just a silly little kid, I suppose. Haha.
Ambientrage  
21 Sep 2008 21:24 | Quote
Joined: 10 Sep 2008
United States
Licks: 4
Karma
These next few ones don't seem to flow as well, and that makes me sad, because I've been trying to write more and more with the rhythm in mind, but then again, these weren't really intentional, they were just... spontaneous verse, I guess.

Treehouse


Climb up with me and I'll
show you the secrets of my treehouse;

Sit down and I'll show you my comics,
Sit here with me and I'll brag all day long.

And then we can climb down from this tree,
and swing on the tire swing
and we can be just so free,
Like the little kids that we never grew out of.

Sit here with me and we can play,
Sit here with me and pass the day away.

And then we can dance together,
And celebrate our never-ending youth,
Play in the sandbox, with castle buckets,
Play with our Tonka trucks and smile;
Read our books and play some tag
Before the day ends,
What fun we have!

Sit here with me in my treehouse,
And let me show you all my prizes;
Sit here with me in my treehouse,
And let's be the children we comprise.


Tricycle


Turning wheels, spinning out the future
Rolling down the road and I'm lost
Riding my tricycle, I'm the big boss.

Brand new wheels and I'm at bliss,
Combined, bigger than two of my fists,
And I'm rocking down the street,
Finding the groove of my heart
Pavement, tar, feathers, heat,
In my black shirt, my blue jeans
The kids sit at the side and watch...

I want to ride my tricycle,
My favourite toy of all.


Night Fever


I'm done saying I'm sorry!
Of course, that's a damn lie;
Will there ever be an end?
No. I doubt it. I'll just
endlessly berate myself;
enumerate false reasons;
walk alone in the dark
heart pounding my chest open
thinking of something happy.
A little bit of mind control?

Perhaps the graveyard is a fitting location,
A nice night time stroll and I can be myself;
Watching mechanical beasts fly by,
Lights blinding me to no extent;
Yelling at the night sky in hopes that
maybe you will hear what I have to say;
that maybe I have a reason to smile.

Frigid, frozen, sitting in a blizzard,
And when I think of you, I'm all warm again...
I'm sorry that I'm sorry.

Will I know it?
I need a bit of escape right now;
I can't blame anyone for drinking;
smoking;
Tearing their mind apart with false realities,
and a happiness that is effervescent at best.

I mean, who can be blamed, though?
I'm going to sit behind these prison bars;
Maybe some day I will be free.

I'm a bit of a liar, I know.
I'm a bit clingy, hell, even more so.
I'm a bit weak, but it's just so grand...

You know...

Having a heart hurts sometimes,
but I do quite enjoy it;
wandering through the darkness,
I can almost feel the starlight beating
down my skin, the clouds protecting me
from a hideous outlook on the beauty
of the world;

All I want is too fucking much;
I'm sorry that I'm always sorry...

All I know are my emotions;
All I know are my feelings;
All I know is that I'm sorry,
for acting as though I did;
All I know is that I love you...

Then again, what the fuck
does love even amount to
when i just destroy it with
every passing glance towards
it?

I just want to feel it again...
Please let me feel it again.
Please let me just feel it...

Let me smile, please.

I want to cry,
I want to... be!

Tempt me please...
Every last moment is bliss;
And I'm surprised that
you would even want
to spend any time at all
in my presence?

Oh, another car passes by,
and I hear a roar, a scream;
some silly school kids
partying hard, partying hard!

I'm gonna sit here waiting;
Until I hear your voice again,
I'm going to bask in the starlight;
I'm going to take in the moonlight;
Play a few chords and it's
almost like it's a song:

Strings are tearing my mind apart
and I want to just lay here all night
in front of this giant tree;
Will you please lay here with me?
The grass grows here in honour of you
in honour of me, in honour of humanity;

I can hear your words in my head now
and I want to just say...
Cheers!

The warmth of your body is amazing;
I can hear the wind talking to me,
And the animals and insects and
the creatures all are talking to me
telling me how it will be in the world.

An entire ecosystem is lodging itself
right inside of my mind, and I want
to show you just how it feels.
I want to feel my hand in your hand;
I want to not walk alone in this darkness
but I am confined to this.

I will wait.


Classroom Days


Early morning, awake for a new day,
Get dressed, sleep, and reawaken;
passed out on the hardened floors,
my backpack is calling my name;
Beep beep, the car is calling me in
the radio tuned to some bit of
deep white noise

The road is seemingly never-ending,
each passing second is another notch
in my mind;
The white noise is getting ever
louder, my heart is beating
my mind racing, so many
questions left unanswered.

My phone is vibrating,
rumbling on my skin,
reaching to open it I see
words that bring a smile to my
face; the day has gotten better.

Stopping in front of the school,
I am forced to exit, I see
children, adults, walls, windows...

First period, I am at aphelion;
the milky way divulges the secrets
of its heliocentricism;
The universe tells me its
secrets, satellites flying out
into the void; velocities, angles,
measurements, numbers.

Hallways are full, and I
want to cry.

Second period, computer screens
lighting up my eyes, the sound
of keyboards, mouses, and mind,
the words never cease.

Hallways congest and dissipate;
there is no peace in this madness
STOP!

Three periods and I'm falling,
my apex long past gone
and I hear the story of
the most honoured of warriors,
Geatish bringer of death; a dragon,
a pen, and infinite potential.

Outside the school,
I await the vessel from this
evil place...

And yet, I don't want to leave.



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