The gunman and the clerk.

A man walked into a store,
from a far-off land.
He pointed at the cashier,
with a gun in his hand.
He spoke slowly,
distinct, yet light.
Fight me, he said,
with all your might.
The cashier said what?
Astonished at such a request.
How could he fight,
at this armed man’s behest?
Surely, he’d die,
scared and in pain.
His wife and kids,
in tears when he is slain.
The man spoke
reading his mind aloud
I know you are scared
but you should be proud.
Instead of killing you outright
I only wish to be thrilled with a fight.
How dare you ask me to do such a thing?
Said the cashier with fervor
You know nothing of what I live for!
To his stoic observer
I live without fear or pain
because the love in my child’s eyes is all the same.
I live with purpose and joy
for the wife that gave me my baby boy.
Who the hell are you, sir?
To tell me how to die?
When all I see is emptiness in your eye?
The cashier said, gruff, yet tense
He knew he had overstepped his boundaries,
surely at his own expense.
He closed his mouth as he awaited death,
His captor staring him straight in the eye.
He hasn’t shot him yet!
Why, dammit, why?!
The captor lowered his gun
and said with a grin
My work here is meaningless
to a man without sin.
I’ve nothing to enjoy
fighting a man such as yourself
Because you aren’t desperate for your physical wealth.
You live for something more
and that’s really, quite a bore.
Now if you’ll excuse me,
I’ll take my leave.
But never forget what you have seen.
For in times of overwhelming plight,
You must never forget what it is to fight.
With words or with fists, may you always strike true;
Truly, I wish I were a man like you.

From the Ashes

Sleep, sleep o wanderer
Let none ever see your real eyes
For they might burn in the sundering flame

Breathe in a lonely breeze
As you look out at the world
Scouring the surroundings
For any shred of hope and dignity

Be calm in your solitude, o wanderer
As you lay down for the night
Staring into blackness
Wondering what if

Awaken, o wanderer!
To the cries of the damned!
As they wander aimlessly down a withered dirt road
The flames of destruction surrounding them.

Let them cry
As they will never shed enough tears to equal your hatred
Their blood will never boil the same way yours does
Their lust for destruction is not as insatiable as yours

Walk amongst them again, o wanderer
Feel the fear in their eyes
As they look upon you and shudder
Knowing full well what you bring in your wake

Death
Destruction
Anger
Rage

This is never goodbye
This is merely a return
The return of the dragon
The return of the beast
The return of everything you ever held dear
All coming back through your eyes
Bleeding through your ears

Let them come
Let the pain of death envelop them all
Let their sorrow wash over you like a cleansing tide

For you are the Wanderer
And you are eternal
Nobody will stop you
All will fall beneath you

Rejoice

Emilogg. you ain’t shit till you see dat gurl’s swag.

6,140 notes

ifeeltheneedtosayhello asked: Um... yeah hi, this is Krusty Krab! Thanks for the message! Who's this? ;) Krab

This is Patrick

Never Forget

Walk around with nothing in your ears
But the sound of the street and your feet
Let yourself see with your own eyes
The variety of scenes with broken dreams

Tell yourself it’ll be okay
You’ve got another day
But it won’t be
For you see

There is only one way out
And there is no doubt
That you’re heading straight for it

So never stop planning for a tomorrow
That you’ll never see
Never stop running toward
Something you’ll never be

Always crawl when you hit the ground
And let the heavens resound
With your howl of passion and fury
They’ll never be able to bury

Scar the earth with your iron will
As you go on over the hill
Never stop fighting for your life
Push through the pain and strife

Because the pale-face
Chalky and white
Will never stop to
Afford you respite

The iron edge of the wanderer
Always strikes true
Taking your life
No matter what you do.

:D

I’m finding it increasingly hard
to believe in you
Ohh I’m finding it difficult
to see the hope
On the grander scale
I consistently fail
To see the point
of what you do
When you see
When you see right through
But hey
at least I got a reason to live
even if it’s got
four legs and a rampant proclive
to eat all day
and sleep all night
Yeah I wish that I
could understand
what makes you think
I don’t deserve your hand
but at least I know
I got a chance
to be without you
for the last dance.

A single drop

Simply put, I never said that it’d be easy.
Being something you could never be.
I simply lead you down the path.
No matter where it would truly lead.

You’re wasting time asking why.
Why it had to be this way.
But quite frankly,
I’ve got nothing to say.

You stood against me once.
And you stood against me again.
You thought you’d make me better.
You thought you could be my friend.

I wanted you to understand
with the look in my eyes.
But all I’m staring at now
is the clouds in the skies.

You would simply wait
until you meet your fate.
Counting the seconds
until it’s too late.

With a single drop
your color ebbs away
with a single tear
you smile anyway

You knew I was a monster
You knew I was the beast.
And yet, you stood by me
your devotion never ceased.

But you only understand
now that you’re at your end.
That a monster does not make
a very good kind of friend.

Goodbye old fellow
I’ll see you then.
But as for me
this is hardly the end.

1 note

The Ghosts of the Mind

Somedays it gets be very lonely
When you speak in tongues

Oftentimes it gets very disparate
When your view is abject to the common perspective

As freeing as it is
To be able to walk in between worlds

You’re like a ghost among the living
Every moment you spend

People see you
They feel your presence

But only a select few
Hear you

And they often are too excitable
to offer anything more than banal reactions

Only a few more than that
Can feel your hand caress by

And simply react with shock and awe
Forgetting themselves as they jump back

To be so enlightened
Being so strange

And yet, having noone to talk to
Who can understand your utterances

As more than just multi-syllabic nonsense
But simply, as words and sentences.

You wake every day
Hoping things will be different

These people all around you
Will have evolved overnight

But you’re wrong
Always wrong

They still silently renounce your touch
They still silently curse in your presence

They still don’t understand
Because they don’t have the capacity to

Must you change yourself to accomodate them
Or must you just remain yourself

A ghost

Cold, starved of companionship, and detached from the world you knew

Welcome back.

The Rapids

You know, there’s times in this little twirling dervish of existence we live in
When life comes to a stop and everything stands at attention
Whether they want to or not

In this moment, something speaks in the wind
Whispering encouraging thoughts in your cerebellum
Making your pulse race as they vibrate through your head

But then things start to move again and you realize
They’ve always been moving
Moving too fast for you to notice

And the thing you stopped to admire
And become entranced by
Has long since moved past you

And you’re left standing
Looking at nothing
With mouth agape

You wish you could reclaim that moment
But you can’t
Because life is always moving
Always progressing
And in the end, you only have a moment to act
A moment to live
A moment to exist
Before you enter an eternity in death.

She

She stood there, arms at her chest, resting upon her voluptuous bosom, trying to say something. But no matter what utterances fluttered from her soft, pink lips, they did not flit about through the air into my skull, but merely dribbled from her lips onto the floor where only a cursory glance down would show me the scattered letters, standing out stark and white from the hardwood floors.

I pretended to care, because I love to watch her feeble confidence rise up in her features, knowing full well that every ounce of self-esteem in her wet brain rests solely in my hands as I entertain the thought of finally letting her know how completely ineffectual she is. Sadly, she never realizes my awareness and continues to think her oil words to be doing nothing more than stringing from her lips like spittle from a brain dead child.

She walks in to feel my embrace, having my arms wrap around her and make her feel safe. I abide all too willingly, knowing that to do so is like smiling while she walks into the iron maiden. She coos softly, inside her head, she thinks that she feels at rest in this moment, as her cold flesh eats away at the heat of my chest. She looks up at me for a second, then back down, asking for me to speak words of affirmation unto her in some banal, roundabout way. I look down at her, holding my gaze on her head until she looks up and our eyes meet. For a second, I hesitate, knowing that she would be an entertainment for a moment, an object of pleasure I’d keep close until she or I wandered off in some other direction.

But I remember what is to come and smile as I look into her wondering eyes and softly say “I refuse you, my dear.”  She stares intently, not realizing what’s been said, as her hands rest palms down on my chest, before asking what I meant. A grin, acidic with rage, glided onto my face as I spoke it again; “I refuse you. Get out of my sight.” She acts appalled, fearful, and confused at the same time, as she stutters words. She tells me she doesn’t understand my intent, but we both know she knows what I intended when I said those few words.

Her hands claw at her face as her mind melts away, the air grows cold and silent around us, despite all the people nearby, and she starts to hyperventilate as I remain in my current state, smile straining to expand even further as I hear the cracking of the ice all around as it welcomes another into it’s frostbitten grip. She screams obscenities as her teeth gnash, becoming sharp and misaligned, as she drags her nails down her face, peeling away skin.

Soon, words become simply screams as her eyes glow and her human facade falls away and what was once anger and rage turns now into sorrow and desperation. Her once strong visage, yelling these profane things to me, turns inward and she collects herself on the floor, huddled over as she grasps onto anything that can offer comfort, but finds nothing but the cracked flesh she has adorned herself with. For the cold, numbing fingers of the other place have no such hesitation as to take when they desire and know no mercy for those whose only wish is to be warm.