• Liars, deniers and Lil' baby criers. All just a matter of fact that's lacking tact in our world today, a hazy fade away in to obscurity, impurity even, or unevenly put a mind on edge, a hammer to a wedge a downfall; just a peg.
    No more heroes or heroins and no more heralding trumpet calls, for the one with lust the one I must must MUST have and see another day, the one who never wanted to come and play the one who decided to have it their way. Okay the games we play are packed up for the night, we played by the rules, we'd done it right but in the end that cup of tea tonight is not the coffee in a fortnight. The thing we could not see, the lack of foresight but it just might be the thing that keeps us up at night wondering what was, what will, what is and when will, what will, and how will. We understand that the world crumbles and we understand that we trip and tumble but at one point it didn't matter, regardless of how battered and bruised how much we get used, it was just another drop in the bucket -- ******** it, I don't need it anymore, and I'll never explore again. In a cave, I'll grab a pen, write my life story and make it seem gory and hard to believe all just to deceive you all into thinking I'm magic and my death was tragic.

    My hero has fallen, and thus I shall rise through the soot and the clouds I will devise a new set of constellations. I'll place the stars and bars of light that draw out the night, that draw people the right-- way home

    All alone, all alone, a half clean plate with a half eaten scone, excuse and once more never more, will we cry and dine, and wine and soak in the brine of lies, flogging each other with sins as defined, À la divine. The sweet whiskey soaked whiskers of a time since past, a fruitful mask to hide the shame, I submit, that in the end most of us quit, and that's why we die, lie, and take, and break and make ourselves that in which we curse, irony is diverse and so I end my verse.