Shoal's AdmirerShaol's Admirer
"I've heard naught but scraps and mites of,
this might full tale of rebirth and mole of orts.
The Lazarus that our man may be, strewn a mors by shove.
Regret may he, remorse did we, to read his cross to ports.
But on my eye did gleen a sheen, of dark but not abrading amaze,
for by its hand it led me through a maze of dread and gasp,
upon of which I marched in mirth, a beaten road of days
stepped down by a slave to fate, a hook, a pin, and clasp.
The Ancient Mariner, dresses his own fate,
and by what a fate awaits his lay, laying him to sooth.
Forsooth, a man abused and wicked was he before too late,
but on his rest he came to breath, sorry, cross his teeth.
Over his tongue and under his tooth.
To garden more his heath."
Political RantPolitical Rant
What a fascist faction of government this repugnant republic is.
What swill it utters.
What repulsive stills it festers.
Swishing a swaying the suffering people, lying in the gutters.
The swines. Faces fat in the sewer with faltering lies,
Buzzing with fecal flies.
What false promises it proposes.
What a sad and lonely, pathetic little monarch we are.
Masking ourselves as some other people,
We killed those soldiers, and burned those steeples.
We threw those books in the fires.
We the liars, the enemy, the arson.
We the teacher, doctor, and parson.
What horrible, deceiving, monsters we are.
Salted fruits and ashed meats,
Suckling from our own soured tits.
We dine on tainted ideals of anthropophiles,
and all the while, we are those people.
"Hypocrisy" I shudder.
If those things living in your masks want change, then beckon it.
It's unbecoming of them to abstain their reckoning.
They're wrecking themselves to hide, and it's sickening
It's demeaning to lose