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Impassioned NightA pallas moon which spreads its glow upon the blackened 'scape below, high atop a midnight rise tucked well away from prying eyes. Herein the silence burns the bliss of heat between two lovers' tryst, as spirits rise in eager flight to catch the warm breeze of the night.Impassioned Night
And not far removed from passion's glen the gentle scratching of the pen, proclaiming tales of heaven's grace in spirals which the ink doth trace. Too well aware of tempt of love yet jaded to have had enough, he considers in solemnity ne'er trusting strife to leave him be. &
by ~AForgottenSoldier
To Live and Let DieI feel as though I've seen the end of man, Though if I have is of no consequence. Perhaps long ago I've felt another's eyes, Shall I again loathe such experience. Perhaps just once a dog amongst those woods, Or the poets, Tennyson and Virgil, pray? That great men might once more preach to the Earth, And through the darkness lead us on our way.To Live and Let Die
Do I but once more pass through hallowed halls? Perhaps a cache of memories I might contain. Through the mud but once more shall I trudge? Perhaps before such rage have I unchained.
I shall never surely know whom I hav
by ~AForgottenSoldier
The Blessing and The CurseA blessing and a curse; So light a double standard, yet so sharp the true insinuation; For when it is she the blessing and love the horrid curse; When blood flows hard, myself lost among the tumultuous tide of heart; A blessing; Yet dashed against the rocks, my visions a pale sheet to hide my bindings; A curse. So solid is the basis of our statement; So intangible yet the true desire behind our eyes as we proclaim it; Out of reach of all but the strongest hands, the most dexterous fingers; Yet always seeming so close as to even be already within our clenched fists which beat the wallThe Blessing and The Curse
by ~AForgottenSoldier
Language of the BirdsI am the farthest right hand of a long forgotten god; I am the comet which levels a thousand years of civilization; For it is through my process, my spread, and even my denial that dynasties fall; My blood has been shed across the pages of ill-begotten tomes; It has been splashed across walls, floors, and hands; The sanguine of the scribes used to write what madmen dub the Mandate of Heaven; And through centuries I have evolved from image to eloquence; From prokaryote to the great winged dragon, Hidden, Divine, Heavenly, and Nidhogg; And so strong have I burned the bridges of civilization;Language of the Birds
by ~AForgottenSoldier
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: CT, USA
- Interests: Airsoft, paintball, shooting sports, pool, police explorers.
- Favourite movie: Blackhawk Down
- Favourite band or musician: Tool, Amon Amarth, Lamb of God, Metallica, Iron Maiden, Alice in Chains.
- Favourite genre of music: Rock/Country/Metal
- Favourite artist: I'd really rather see what someone drew at home than what they hung in a museum.
- Favourite poet or writer: Lord Alfred Tennyson
- Favourite photographer: Don't have one.
- Favourite style of art: I like to sketch and freehand.
- Operating System: Windows XP
- MP3 player of choice: iPod
- Wallpaper of choice: The E.G.A.
- Favourite game: RS:V 2
- Favourite gaming platform: Xbox 360
- Personal Quote: Light a match and burn this fucker down.
- Tools of the Trade: I sell guns and fix cars. A SOCOM-16 and a 17mm wrench.
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--
Forgetting
All the hurt inside you learned to hide so well
Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are
--
I submit to you that if a man has not discovered something that he will die for, he isn't fit to live.
-Martin Luther King, jr.
--
Forgetting
All the hurt inside you learned to hide so well
Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are
--
I submit to you that if a man has not discovered something that he will die for, he isn't fit to live.
-Martin Luther King, jr.
--
Forgetting
All the hurt inside you learned to hide so well
Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are
--
Forgetting
All the hurt inside you learned to hide so well
Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are
--
"Honestly is honestly the hardest thing for me right now." ~ The Truth by Kris Allen
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“Now me lay down to sleep.
Mow da zeebas down like sheep.
Give dem to me nice and dead.
Me no happy ‘til me fed.”
-Bedtime prayer of crocs, Pearls Before Swine
--
love is suicide
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