Friends, Part II sit here in my cocoon,
Alone, whiling away the moments
In a life that is not mine, rough-hewn
Twisted and chilled by fate's docents.
My old life had a saboteur.
Decent, gentle, sexy, caring --
I ran out of words to describe her.
She was a glorious thing.
But now she has gone, stolen
And still stealing, lied and still lying.
She has gone, but remains. Molten
Drops spill from my heart, soul-scalding.
I wish she would go...but I don't.
I have no idea what I want.
My dreams are fettered and overgrown,
Weeds of love and faces gaunt.
Writhing, squirming, agonized
But betraying nothing on my skin,
Hiding from her deep brown eyes
Still longing to love them again.
She cast me away out of hand
Making a pretense of struggling.
With her she took my life's meadowland;
She left memories of snuggling.
So here I sat, days passing,
Drunk on misery, high on hatred,
Learning to loathe all my loving,
Seeing the sacred turned jaded.
Weeks became months; fall turned winter.
I began to reassemble.
Memories of days not long past♫ I love a girl named Megan
She loves me too
They sometimes say she's a pagan
But it really isn't all that true ♫
♫ I call my girlfriend Scorch
Cuz she's hot ketchup
She isn't named George
If she was, I'd take her in for a checkup ♫
:S One more.
♫ There's a lovely girl I know
Megan's what we call her
She doesn't really like to blow
Cuz she thinks she's no good fer...it... ♫
That was terrible! :! I'm gonna try one more time.
♫ I met a girl one time
And fell head-over-heels in love
Dunno if she likes to rhyme
But man, what else can I think of? ♫
Would you hold it against me if I did one more? Just one. I promise I'll stop in a minute.
♫ I bought a ring for my girl
Might just give it to her
Not sure if I want to give it a whorl
Cuz I dunno if it'll make her purr
But I'm really in love
And I wanna go all-in
It's just that I feel like a dove
When we're both just in our skin
So someday I'll give Megan a ring
And I hope she take
Warmth and ChillHas your soul ever shivered from the cold?
We tie ourselves together in vain hope
That we can possibly save each other,
That we can become comrades-as-blankets,
That our combined warmth can fend off the night.
Sometimes the night's cold is too strong for us.
Has your soul ever gone completely numb?
Do you feel for the pained creatures 'round you,
Or are you so cold you feel only you,
Desiring, fighting, slaying if it warms?
If you cannot feel our paroxysms,
Why would we trust you to perceive your own?
Your guardian spoke to me days ago,
Or maybe I am him, slung in exile.
Your silence it only eviscerates,
Your choices they have simply burnt us up,
The guardian his mission is hopeless.
Shall he yield before he receives his wings?
Weak girl, misled, off the path, heed my words:
You have harmed those who would love and keep you,
Estranged your friends, weaned away your family
Under a man's and a mind's sorcery.
There remains purifying redemption,
But can you choke your incipient pride?
SinA day dawned long ago, cold and dreary.
Men bustled silently along, leering
At one another, praying perhaps that
Just one should find himself under the train,
Because that would make for a right good laugh.
Huddled together against this cruel scene,
Round a fire, stood our heroes and heroines,
Who laughed and played and thought great thoughts, wanting
To escape from their life at the shunting.
Two of these, Spark and Scorch, are our objects.
Spark lived a protected life, sheltered from
The great evils of the world, cocooned in
His family's and friends' adoration.
He was calm and kind and brave and cool,
But Spark had never met Squall, that fool
Of a demon, that sinful heartless ghoul.
Scorch began her life as Spark had done, prized
And adored, but Squall found her, disguised
As a man, but betraying himself fast.
Scorch was changed, turned demonic and outcast.
The voices of the past -- Squall's -- in her ear,
She struggled to live just and sincere.
It may never be fully understood
Fandango"All fondness and love existing in the beings lead them to perform physical, verbal or mental bad deeds. Upon having always taken such matter into account, the being will be able to leave or lighten such fondness and love. O, monks! That is the advantage that every female, male, layperson or priest should always consider that all things they love would one day go away from them."
-- the Buddha
The Buddha is correct...but isn't love worth a few bad deeds?
I am strong like a bull!
I have the wit of the raven,
The audacity of the crow,
The cunning of the fox,
And the firefly's resplendent glow.
I am become the stubborn elephant
And the confident lion --
Strong enough indeed to be
In the sky with Orion.
I am strong like a bull!
I have the perseverance of the giraffe,
The temperance of the rabbit,
The rarity of the thylacine,
And the reserve of the monk in his habit.
I am become the patient sloth
And the flexible monkey --
Incredible enough indeed to be
Considered only too spunky.
Love is i