dead friendgod bless you, dead frienddead friend
our duel was good and true
it made me sad a little bit
to have to run you through
but now it seems you've bled
all over my clean floor
so with some small bit less regret
I'll show your corpse the door
come back sometime perhaps
we'll laugh of old offence
you'll talk of all the latest news
I'll pay you my two pence
your sedentary moods
I'll banish with a tale
that'll have you fallen off your chair
between some cups of ale
before our social nights
I'll hint about your smell
and absent any great protest
you'll wear my perfume well
later on that evening
when I've had some to drink
the ladie
beansSpencer is a man in the midst of a planbeans
a pioneer we have here to hear and speak
little thoughts and big ideas that we'd otherwise not notice
small bits of brilliance that leak from his lyrics like liquids lost on land
the stellar sphere he brings us here, the epic ubiquitous tale
that he tells and sells to the valiant few who will to hear,
epistemological nomads with creative facial hair be there
amongst us now, where we lounge and frown with our arms
cruciform
we mourn the passing time
the slowly passing time
nodding not dancing, talking not romancing,
a studied proxy life safe from all we feel
yet Spencer here, our Achilles's heel
would fo
warunreasoning force, driven by hatewar
deaf to panicked cries, "Abate!
oh foolish warriors, or too late
regret your acts."
but woe, upon the sword of pride
regret lay fallen, and to its side
wisdom's flesh takes wounds as wide
as hungered moans
at this fools cry, "Crime on reason!
Despair, all who've reaped this season
a harvest of blood! Your vilest treason
is our just cause!"
what greater folly than the thought
that one fights wars as wars are fought,
by but killing men who have war sought
is no means to peace
instead, the means that war's remade,
from swords to scythes returned in trade,
that debts of war might now be pa
treeswhat fortune, lovers drunk on meadtrees
find love's adventures in their bed
for we who've hunger future fed much far and further are we led
away from nature's rose strewn paths
apart to lands so oft thought dead
where ancient rains make Godly baths
that cleanse the soul of mortal lead
to find the earth our roots desire
down depths far our spirits tread
until our legs in verdance mire
and leaves for hair adorn our head
but with new wisdom comes new ire
for we've become the trees instead
--
My blog > [link]
--
My blog > [link]
--
Check out my Oekaki Paintchat comic. sorta loli...and emo.
[link]
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