|06-03-2013, 10:13 PM||#1|
Join Date: Sep 2006
Many many curtains the same
Flapping as the banner-men on the gust hills I gaze
But each with different patterns presenting a culture of its own
As a warlord I've always known
To be amidst this scene
Replaying my role, thoroughly
Would mean all the difference and the same
As it was over back and forth, thus I...
Would always return back, replaying these old tapes
Watching as the butterflies would swirl
Perfecting the effects
"Measure a paragon would
An omens faith stuck ill in me
Sow the wind, reap the storm" I thought
Nor the devil's usurper before
I realized this position, I
Burst its flappers and made a gust
Wish, for the thinkers in my head
to brew a distill and forget
that I was even here and then...
The sun sets
I await a solemn vow, now
as I wake upon a hill with
soothing wind and a banner in my hand.
No patterns but a white flag
and a slight sense of peace again
I catch a flying letter, saying;
"There is no war, but you"
We're catching ships in the Rye
Last edited by Eccer : 11-12-2013 at 11:59 AM.