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Literature Text
Marching on dead feet
over a field of gray
we lost the soul
we lost ourselves
in a time we'll never forget
we're an army of dead men.
Innocence gone
hearts lost
Those who shoved us into this world
were lost long ago
as a wage of war.
Even the shallowest scratch
cuts to the bone
with a story we don't care to tell
some still scream
when in the heat of battle
they find another hollow
in the very flesh of their souls.
But most can no longer muster a tear
as we march
doing the dirty work of the devil.
An army of dead men.
We only wish we could care
over a field of gray
we lost the soul
we lost ourselves
in a time we'll never forget
we're an army of dead men.
Innocence gone
hearts lost
Those who shoved us into this world
were lost long ago
as a wage of war.
Even the shallowest scratch
cuts to the bone
with a story we don't care to tell
some still scream
when in the heat of battle
they find another hollow
in the very flesh of their souls.
But most can no longer muster a tear
as we march
doing the dirty work of the devil.
An army of dead men.
We only wish we could care
Literature
How to Fix The World
How strange
This abomination...
an execution, while play
The howling strings
Of the cellos
Of the veins
Of the time
Of humanity.
To the discord
Are the who and what,
the how and the why
Ever lost to that
of the cords
of the strings
of the howling
of History.
"Fix this", they cry,
the masses whose
words fester and boil,
carried words, spoken indirect
of the leaders
of the struggles
of the home
of the brave
The final breath
of humanities dying words
"in ashes, from ashes"
She speaks, so melancholy
of the future
of the present
of the past
of Civilization.
"World!" She pleads
with a cry, so finishing
"Heed an
Literature
Bitterweed
the crows have taken their pound of flesh and eaten it raw,
dragging their voices down the chalkboard sky.
medicated, i watch them feed with empty Auschwitz eyes,
every day is the same claustrophobic affair over again.
i miss the taste of axenic fear in my throat,
but my new world is monochrome and i am forced to swallow their synthetic ambrosia.
twisted into my fetal pose, i mark the walls misted from my metric breath,
they say those in glass houses.. but i have no stones to throw
or i would waste this crystal mausoleum from the inside.
they nailed my wings to the floor,
they keep me tranquilized and tell me this is home.
the show
Literature
Sacrifice
Sacrifice
I stepped inside the flame!
Hoping to be forgiven for what I became!
-
Have I no shame?
Have I no guilt?
There's no such thing as blame
For all of the wrongs I've been dealt
Point the finger
Only at the world
Watch you band together
And witness you antagonize another
Innocent souls
Wrapped inside of society's shadows
And little did they know
They were only born to be scapegoats
That's the harsh way to say it
It's only because the truth is filled with hatred
Bystanders just turn a blind eye
As they feed their relief with made up lies
That's all they know how to do
They're too afraid of being dragged down with you
They know
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wow this made the front page? not even in my wildest dreams did i think that could happen, thank you all so much. I have to tell V (the one who had the dream), sorry for any spelling errors it was late at night and i was typing kinda fast, i'll probably go back and fix it later on today.Yes it does have a picture front the cd "The Black Parade" which happens to be my favorite cd of all time, IDK i just got that image in my head when i was writing it. Thank You All
inspired by a dream my friend had aabout scars thatmade hollows in your flesh. And of course i dramatized it so drastically it became this depressing imbodiment of war....she did say she saw an army at the very of the dream that was a lot like this, and that no one else could see the hollows, and that when she went to help them they disappeared. The concept grabbed me, i'm probably gonna do and actual drawing but it firstly made me think of the black parade so brava, bravisimo, stupenda and all that shit.
Btw the pic came from google
inspired by a dream my friend had aabout scars thatmade hollows in your flesh. And of course i dramatized it so drastically it became this depressing imbodiment of war....she did say she saw an army at the very of the dream that was a lot like this, and that no one else could see the hollows, and that when she went to help them they disappeared. The concept grabbed me, i'm probably gonna do and actual drawing but it firstly made me think of the black parade so brava, bravisimo, stupenda and all that shit.
Btw the pic came from google
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spelled 'field' wrong in line two.