CONTENT
Vine leaf
I’m the Sound
Sacrilegious War
Earth Dumb
I’m Alone so I Dream
The Ballad of Grace Lee
The shield
I have to start writing that book. I wanted popularity
and exposure, so people would listen to what I say
and understand me. I wanted to express my feelings
and put them on my book to spread them all around.
Vine leaf
I stand , drink my wine, I fall, I drink my wine, no
one as ever…no one as ever…wait…why do I write
this, why now I have no contribution. Don’t tell me
…don’t tell another lie!!!…I can’t take another lie. YES!
That why I write, telling my emotions to the world.
No one to love, no one to provoke.
Don’t you love me! Why can’t I be loved!!!
Drenched in blood no one can help me now, no
absolution or salvation!!!
This cannot be the end of me! I will not be undone
by this…help me! help me father!
Don’t forsake me now. Give me the award of flame
and anguish; do not leave me…isolation…isolation.
We always loved that word why can’t you ??!!!
I’m the Sound
I sit and strung my cord as if mad. I sit and
strung it hard and flat. When I seat I do not
speak. only for the sound of the beat. Neat
fit and treat I cannot be beat, not by the sound
of my sit or the height of my beat. I’m dragged
and sagged. I’m dead and dread the day ill first
breath.
The nightingale was obscene and cannot be
pristine a sword of thirst and grimm a volume
of unprecedented value.
Ravine and martyr are a hoax and blows up smokes,
for I am unseen I’m the sound in a dream.
Sacrilegious War
Obliged to try and pin point the miss leading
comprehension I couldn’t be more wrong of
assessment, as should others be weary of,
I’m not a satanic principal concocting the death
of innocent .
I shall not be that stupid, nor not to persuade
my fellow men to be as consistent rebelling,
trifling stifling scent was brought up by the
forceful unforgiving winds.
I cannot abide such discrepancies nor to take
side with men how do conjure the all consuming
thoughts of war and death. Their pardons and civilities
will go down unheard deaf ear and blind eyes shall
be their accusatory process.
Death as they so desirably seek will be their only
solace left as their dead offspring (unborn) laying
in the place where they have shed blood. Reprimand.
Atone for sins of distant past.
Earth Dumb
The clutches of eternal slumber resides, co-exists,
dwells beneath our deepest secrets. The hungry
dog thirsts for knowledge yet it eludes our grasp,
leading us to a deep dark hole of isolation and
aloofness.
The cavalry has arrived with none too greet;
a barren waste lays in what was the sea of passion.
Mankind stands tall only on its knees, prays to a
virtual god without consequences.
Inhaling the suffocating air of what was once
called freedom.
I’m Alone so I Dream
I’m deprived and I scream.
I’m alone so I dream
I’m defeat and deceit for
I cannot be obsolete.
Fighting and choosing, cruising or snoozing
I always end up losing. Devoted and extorted
I’m an aboration of coaresion, a reasoning portion,
a measurement of caution, an entity, deity principal
of distortion.
Denied by pride and defined by my guide I’m
the sun of the stride I’m death to wed, I’m
life to knife.
you are as much as to fault as me you are
deprived, zealot and riff of sobriety.
The Ballad of Grace Lee
A great many tales were told about Grace Lee,
a true heroine of the south, she’s the most
graceful persona.
A crown of a king doesn’t come as easily and
is not a birth right by any means you have the
darkness of a thousand suns in yourself, you are
not above the sea of despair and playing you’re
instrument of craziness like a bard of the
old tale you have to love your esteem: that’s a
story of Grace Lee.
The unborn heroine of a nonexistent book
filling up unbridged gaps hate is a commeners
inquiry and applies to royalty and canno’t be
settled like a peace treaty and is a death of social
deprivty.
She’s an epidemy of consciousness and ignorance
and of youth and innocence she’s a persona, a mask
and constent.
Arbitrary shattering of human spirit and uplift for
the most unfortunate soul.
A small town country girl riddend with a staright
jacket ,she bestows herself with fine clothing. The
brightest light and the darkest night of undiminishing
blackness annonted by the highest.
The day of creation the heavens sung and
the devils song an old tune older than reason,
the concept of man serpentine a libertine of the
sade a rose of the secret.
Kept beneath us, Grace Lee neither human, nor
Inhuman thy vows shall not be praised in carcasses
of earthly moss.
Do be my sacrifice of choice. Lingering gracious
eyes elude the wraiths. Translucid vagrant is a
mindless drone concocting unresolved ordeals.
A vile vicious heathen of suffer, the tautened of
Insidious barging Grace Lee is above me I cannot
for see another tale of a Grace Lee.
The shield
Narrow, small , but not dispense worthy my
shield of arrogance was tighter and tighter
forcing me into a corner, the heavy weight of
suffering, the heavy weight almost lucid, almost
gone.After days of endurance my squire was
deduced into a pile, remained but a shadow of
his former self my sword and shield was barring
itself on my back like a leech, …”squire fetch
me my mightiest steed “, absorbed by desire ,
inspired by fear and gratitude he
rushed for my utnisles as if mad, as if blind.
The “lance of fate” was a hard carry even for the strongest
of men, only a true hero an exalted one, a decorated one,
would have them rendered, successful in the task.
The shield made itself in to a fist a merit; none could have
come close to.The squires mask was slowly fadeing .
He crumbled under the lance’s weight, “Are you in need of assistance?”
I marched forward to arms , lifting my squire , his eyes
did not bode well, for he was frightened as a ghost ,
the lords lore was death by the pendulum, I was kind I
was just and waved him away.
Come nightfall the halluring winds approached, I strutted
through the snow, the leaves of Marivil were hastened
towards me, and I cast them away with a single swatt.
My steed showed his fatigue ,my cap, my loyal helmet
abandoned me in spite , my blood was boiling as I reached
my trusty- hot and warm keep.
The door slam shut in my gesture. Lady Mayfair lay as if
lifeless. I hoisted her up,” Are you of well – being my
dear?”She glances at me with her glistening eyes and
uttered “Yes”. I approached her red of a mouth, held her
ever so tightly and kissed her.
(c) 2015 All rights reserved to Guy Dazin
Published: Jan 26, 2015
Latest Revision: Jan 31, 2015
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