Who Wrecks?
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Dec 6, 2005
- Messages
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I don't understand why people cant type well when theyre under the influence of intoxicants, I feel i can type quite well in fact and I have comet o the conclusion that I will continue to write what makes me happy in all sense of the word:
With each torrent of wind, I condemn, with lyrical current, left to defend
each sin against him, with the will of the God that will crawl from the minds of the masses
left to travel alone, and to condone, with a heavy tone, and command a series of empty drones
But with each line I supply the words of a new message, to deafen the reader and speaker
to join them in a unity, a community, a threatened existence
to divide, and hide the cry of those who need to listen
pay the commission of a lost herd, who spur to action
distraction with each limited statement
containment of the original source, pass the torch, and burn
with each passing turn, from the first to the third of a second voice
To specify a choice, and allow every noise, while others play coy
with a tangent of characters, deniable in every sense of the meaning
A new treaty defeat me, while I stand at a attention
A new explorer, in an alternate dimension
Convenient detention, and vision, decision of a new being
And seeing the fiend of a new era
Left to tear apart, nations cities, corrupt sprees of mass murder
deter her, alone she recedes, left ablaze among the mass of trees, inspired keys of my opiate
A tapestry, my story entwined to represent me
Contently defend me, against each shield, and electrical field to which I must yield
in the second coming, while you rummage and pillage throughout each sanctioned village till dusk from dawn with each passing yawn your voice grows colder
Like each stone, shadows shown, and devoid of feeling, writhing alone I told her
and spoke confidently with each varied phrase, that is to say, with each page I quell the rage of those who have lost their ability, stability, and sanity to speak in the street of a discovered magistrate
The focused words of a corrupted tyrant, while rebel defiance upsets the legitimacy, through series of theories and tears these
walls to the ground, down to what was found within the pounds of rubble
to scribble thoughts of a never ending decision, left to welcome your direction
a direct parallel of the infection , and my only unsevered connection with a lost generation, generate concrete defeats of my rivals who have contrive situations
and intellectual deprivations among my sanitary situations
I am simplistic with my addiction
With each torrent of wind, I condemn, with lyrical current, left to defend
each sin against him, with the will of the God that will crawl from the minds of the masses
left to travel alone, and to condone, with a heavy tone, and command a series of empty drones
But with each line I supply the words of a new message, to deafen the reader and speaker
to join them in a unity, a community, a threatened existence
to divide, and hide the cry of those who need to listen
pay the commission of a lost herd, who spur to action
distraction with each limited statement
containment of the original source, pass the torch, and burn
with each passing turn, from the first to the third of a second voice
To specify a choice, and allow every noise, while others play coy
with a tangent of characters, deniable in every sense of the meaning
A new treaty defeat me, while I stand at a attention
A new explorer, in an alternate dimension
Convenient detention, and vision, decision of a new being
And seeing the fiend of a new era
Left to tear apart, nations cities, corrupt sprees of mass murder
deter her, alone she recedes, left ablaze among the mass of trees, inspired keys of my opiate
A tapestry, my story entwined to represent me
Contently defend me, against each shield, and electrical field to which I must yield
in the second coming, while you rummage and pillage throughout each sanctioned village till dusk from dawn with each passing yawn your voice grows colder
Like each stone, shadows shown, and devoid of feeling, writhing alone I told her
and spoke confidently with each varied phrase, that is to say, with each page I quell the rage of those who have lost their ability, stability, and sanity to speak in the street of a discovered magistrate
The focused words of a corrupted tyrant, while rebel defiance upsets the legitimacy, through series of theories and tears these
walls to the ground, down to what was found within the pounds of rubble
to scribble thoughts of a never ending decision, left to welcome your direction
a direct parallel of the infection , and my only unsevered connection with a lost generation, generate concrete defeats of my rivals who have contrive situations
and intellectual deprivations among my sanitary situations
I am simplistic with my addiction
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