A poem, I wrote, made up, of poems, I wrote.

A poem, I wrote, made up, of poems, I wrote.

Quiet, Simple, and Maimed,
too Worn to Walk Away, this Dog's tamed.
Nobody's Hero is Falling (Apart)
Driven Mad against The Unassailable Heart

after Looking To the Heavens, all the while knowing,
To do so is Diving in The Dark of the Cold Flowing.
and Damn Sure of the Empty Hallelujah's Presents,
I learned The Tarot For Fools, isn't just for peasants.

Its a Long Way Home,
before these Cold Stars turn me Back to Stone.
Hey Angel, Why give me this Heart of Bone?
Such Withered Ramparts? and such a Cold Throne?

as Sunbeams grew the Flower,
and Initial Mistakes gave you the power.
The Knights Supposition fell against the Blades.
Scratched Armor under No Shade.

Pummeled into Knightfall,
all starting with that Hope From Afar.
now so Scarred, and Disfigured,
the Dark Morning leaves me Bitter

no longer do Qualities of Honor linger here,
no longer Ignoring the Problem in fear.
no one shares The Burden of Atlas,
your False Defenders and Heroes Rest.

behind your Shield its clear,
The Dirge Eternal is ringing in your ear
bled dry Through and Through,
I still find my self (Thinking of You)

left now with No Hope For a Better Day,
and still No Pride Left to Pray
All that's left is the Rite of the Knife,
All in all, one short life.

Author's Note

over 50 poems here... it was NOT fun linking all of them...

Reviews

[HappyTaylor]

I like this!!! It's really cool. How long did you spend linkin' them all?