MM23
03-17-2007, 04:11 AM
Mappy (Eleventeen/Vikingcore/Whatever the hell you know him as) is making me post, so here goes nothing. Just going to post my best work and see if I'm worthy or not of being able to do anything but lurk around these forums. I might post some more if it turns out my trash lyrics are even worth reading. And yes, I know it should have a god damned title, but I literally am incapable of titling my works. Tell me what you think.
_____________________________
Untitled
In a previous life, I was surely a lion:
No matter what happens, I cling to my pride.
In a previous time, you were clearly an angel:
Written in blood is the name of your star.
But nothing can mend the eruption that severed
The hope I remembered when happiness lost
Its feverish struggle beyond the horizon
Where innocent laughter was strangled alive.
I ask, is it more than a wasted excursion?
If life is a journey, I strayed from the path.
Wandering hatefully, drawing the water
To baptize a saint in your fictional hell.
Glimpses of nothing that never existed
Are simply deficient because we believe
That for every rejection there lives a potential:
But nobody ventures to show me her face.
So deep in the forest I build my destruction
While carving initials on prosperous veins.
Fleeting, yet bleeding, the moment escapes
Like a flower forgetting to die in the frost.
Sacred forgiveness delays the arrival
Of wooden receptacles bearing my shell,
But knowing tomorrow will bring the infection,
I ready my weapon and dance in the rain.
Not even your presence, my goddess of spring
Is enough to confront this incredible gleam
That appears in the eyes of the suicide-minded
Just seconds before the decision is made.
Wielding a dagger that promises freedom:
No stroke is too deep, no incision too harsh.
Euphoric dementia brought on by the blade
Impossibly mortal, no choice but to fade
As I cling to your picture, a vision of death
Inspired by loneliness, all that was left
In the days
And the nights
And the weeks
And the months
Since you opened my soul and performed the first cut,
It was only a matter of natural ways
That you’d lurk in the shadows, reflecting my gaze,
But your sadness was tainted by earthly pursuits:
You shunned my affection and ran from the truth!
As I spill to the ground, once more you appear,
If only the product of atheist fear
But I know this continues, the circle renews:
Bestowing the shape I was meant to assume,
And a day will arrive when a lion approaches,
Laughing before you with suffering eyes.
Crossing eternity, faithfully driven,
Forsaking perfection to be at your side.
_____________________________
Untitled
In a previous life, I was surely a lion:
No matter what happens, I cling to my pride.
In a previous time, you were clearly an angel:
Written in blood is the name of your star.
But nothing can mend the eruption that severed
The hope I remembered when happiness lost
Its feverish struggle beyond the horizon
Where innocent laughter was strangled alive.
I ask, is it more than a wasted excursion?
If life is a journey, I strayed from the path.
Wandering hatefully, drawing the water
To baptize a saint in your fictional hell.
Glimpses of nothing that never existed
Are simply deficient because we believe
That for every rejection there lives a potential:
But nobody ventures to show me her face.
So deep in the forest I build my destruction
While carving initials on prosperous veins.
Fleeting, yet bleeding, the moment escapes
Like a flower forgetting to die in the frost.
Sacred forgiveness delays the arrival
Of wooden receptacles bearing my shell,
But knowing tomorrow will bring the infection,
I ready my weapon and dance in the rain.
Not even your presence, my goddess of spring
Is enough to confront this incredible gleam
That appears in the eyes of the suicide-minded
Just seconds before the decision is made.
Wielding a dagger that promises freedom:
No stroke is too deep, no incision too harsh.
Euphoric dementia brought on by the blade
Impossibly mortal, no choice but to fade
As I cling to your picture, a vision of death
Inspired by loneliness, all that was left
In the days
And the nights
And the weeks
And the months
Since you opened my soul and performed the first cut,
It was only a matter of natural ways
That you’d lurk in the shadows, reflecting my gaze,
But your sadness was tainted by earthly pursuits:
You shunned my affection and ran from the truth!
As I spill to the ground, once more you appear,
If only the product of atheist fear
But I know this continues, the circle renews:
Bestowing the shape I was meant to assume,
And a day will arrive when a lion approaches,
Laughing before you with suffering eyes.
Crossing eternity, faithfully driven,
Forsaking perfection to be at your side.