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maybe later,


this is my quick (very quick)
version of the bus poem thing i requested.


seek upon the yellow bold
passage within the palm of man
while we dig ourselves into blue
and salute myself as a guest
as my white translates the blur
into certain familiarities
increasing anticipation of old
like materials fit on skin
appears the lines of motion
to be associated with noise
of background conversation
the glare upon horizon burns
my shadow like a signature
as my red curve then turns
to show glee and pearly white.

i quickly just whipped something up.

in response to this

**originally posted by assassincreed:

write about moderators please ban me**

here it is, its all in the name of harmless fun.





king the debt alive assured
to analyse the need to serve
fail to steel upon shoulders
and assasincreed is a 'nerd'
pause the thought of doubt
within the minds of clouds
dwell on self-recognition as
constructive criticism is allowed
to wash ones hands of note
slipping through grip like sand
not agreeing with what i say
isn't grounds for me getting banned.
so to conclude the ruse of day
and donate such thoughts to past
it seems you are always angry
and i think you should just relax.

The Preacher's Daughter's Hands Are Stained With My Blood

...in a little bit I will fall onto the altar with my crimson hands
and tell you all what I've become,and how I'm no longer man
I've metamorphosized into a creature that the mirror doesn't recognize
And now that I'm going insane, I need someone to look into me and psychoanalyze

I don't know what I've become
Why are my hands bloody? What have I done?
My teeth are stained red, and my hunger is growing
I put my hands on my head, the pain is overflowing
I feel the transformation beginning
I feel the other side of me winning
Soon 'WHO I AM' will disapear and the monster within will awaken
I wish I knew why my life has been taken

I fall to the ground and I feel the hurt whelling up inside
A feeling so painful,I'd much rather die
Then there she was,
the one whom I gave all my love
But something about her wasn't the same
I don't know what it was, but I sensed some kind of change

She bent down and gripped my throat
My breath shortened and I started to choke
She picked me up into the air,
Her nails digging into me more than I could bare
I felt the bones cracking in my steady breaking neck
I can't believe she's doing this, I would never expect

She screams at me, "This is for hurting me all the time!!!"
Then she twists my neck and severs my spine
She gazes at my lifeless body,
then she throws it onto the floor
Then she spreads her black wings,
and flies out of the church's door