Elation, Anguish, Clout? Paddlecore.

The Only Lord!

I sat amongst peasants,

They had life, to share,

We are at your disposal my lord,

They told him, oh holy one,

May I say you are nothing,

But a giant with no honor,

You take away from the dead,

And strengthen your powers of trust,

Do you see what we kill,

And do you share your lust?

Not far did he sink,

Never had no rhymes,

Asked your help, was a man,

With no power in his mind,

Begging again for comfort,

While the lord bleeds his,

Children’s heart,

He fails to bring peace,

But offers only guilt apart,

Why I ask,

Are you bringing, the last demon down?

Is there nothing that you see,

In man’s loving frown?

He is humble and docile,

Hungry only for the truth,

Once jumbled on his hour,

He will not ask for fame,

But you will grant the devil,

To play his timely games,

We praise you still my lord,

You are the one we hold,

For the last light may shine,

On your holy tomb. 

Adieu

Woks hang from her kitchen window,

Lights linger around her shed,

She wasn’t really sheltered, 

Just a roof made of straws,

And no sheets on her bed,

I offered help to her pointless stare,

Her thoughts were old as her,

Leave me,

She said to herself,

I wanted to say I care,

But before my lips trembled,

I saw her eyes close,

Only she knows what she was thinking,

Right or wrong is he?

The sun crept under her last evening dose,

Maybe it was for after,

Her daughter with burning hands,

Fire all around the shed,

But there was no fire to warm her core,

No light in her eyes, her daughter said, 

Running tears I could not stop,

For she and her daughter,

Goodbye, we all said.

Where We Are

Where we are,

Abandoned salvation,

Resting each step,

Walking through dust,They were alas,

At costs that showed trust,

Bought without majority,

Now I speak,

You survived under their choices,

Below lies and lumps,

Where we are,

Just heads above causes,

There we stay, away from,

Losses.

The Truth Shall Suffice

We note those possibilities that cause the main frame above our necks to weigh over thoughts of melancholy. Where are you sending these directions? Well, this is for a calm man who had his thoughts tangled between his doings and the doings of this world. Where shall I start? Should I bring the essence of indulgence or should I crop each layer above the other just as it is? The latter seems to have a happy ending so let’s begin with it. If there were simple reasons that could define the complexity of each demeaning memory, mankind would never be able to grow and procure all of his misgivings.

This is a human’s broad aspect of emotional quotient. His thoughts always seem to linger in directions of abnormal, subnormal intuition. Where is the ending of his thoughts and where do his priorities lie? A simple answer awaits.

While we seek each endeavor to deduce the truth, we forget our bindings with this truth. It does not grant permission to those who wish to attain its secrets by searching every corner but it asks only to live by it’s norms. While following this process one will find that his true peace will enhance and rest his emotions while it shall trickle the last means of anguish.

Be free.

Prowlers Innuendo

Fool have you seen the rest,

Wandering motions of each glimpse,

Doesn’t realize I speak them by,

Still continues to share thoughts,

Written by seeds to prosper,

They need not conjure,

Mirthful ways are neither,

Kind nor welcome,

Flips blossoming tears,

They shall be forgotten,

Not to disquiet hunger,

Not to run,

Face me and crave the sun.

Classes with Schmucks!

We sit in our corner,

They speak with closed thoughts,

Why are these melons white,

Are them done without taste?

Folding each opportunity,

I laugh at wits,

We groom our self righteous,

Mock the words they speak,

Oh fellow companion,

Shut up and gain,

These things might dwell,

Long after in your strain.