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 daysstepped 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 hi
Political RantPolitical RantWhat 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
LostAlice said to the red-dressed man whom she found one day, "Are you lost?""I've lost many things in my day, but I can't say I've ever had trouble finding myself… no I am not lost, but I have lost something rather important… but be gone with you! I can find it myself. I can find my way."Alice thought the man to be quite rude, and she decided to walk away , not caring at all where the man's way was."Are you lost?" Asked the man, stepping over to Alice."No I am not, but I'd be if you'd not follow me.""But I'm not. I'm following your shadow, and it is your shadow who I was asking. It seemed unsure of where it was going. Quite f
The Samaritan'sThe Samaritan'sI shan't cudgel my dignitywith fib, misguidance, or sin.It is my honor to be your divinity,and honesty,within;An honor, your kin.I am your blanket, swept vastly 'cross crossesyour herald in streets,Enveloping sheets, I beginI begin to travel, traverse, and convert.Conversing with earnest, my burdens still hurt.The people won't listen, they lead stray from my plea.Plead I go so, so on I go, heeding the me of your beauty.Please my affinity to be, your baroness.You look less like a baron with my being your guestHeading away, yet from you I went out.How can they dare to go out?!How can they let y
Sta.sh
