I saw you wandering at night When you approached I thought we would fight You put your hand on my shoulder and told me my name Right at that moment, I thought it was some game Told me more about "me" then I ever knew My crush, what I do, some examples to name a few Then you dropped a proverbial bomb "Your writing will change the world" With that statement I have no qualm Now into the public I must be hurled Now this is a difficult task It would help to wear the anonymity mask The world I wish to wake I hope sir "michael" you are not a fake
Golden coin gleaming in hand. All his hopes took refuge in that vestige of conjured worth. The man with no name would buy his name this day...
The empire's burgeoning halls pressed in around him as he strode. They would devour him in this moment if they had not done so already. Yet, why the empire? There are more docile things to tame. Everything is the same for the man with no name.
"People would apologize for stepping on me, but they knew not what to call me, so they went somnolently on their way. " I try to imagine these are the things he'd say, Instead these are the words of those I know, Those that I can hear, see, smell, touch... taste. The man with no name's words are a waste. He leaves no footprints wherever he may go.
The steps to the Hand of the Empire are steep. Some will climb it, some will weep. Yet, the man with no name will not turn back this day; He takes a moment to fill and a moment to pray.
His memories are so vibrant, so full of clarity, Like crystals in the light, banishing insanity; His tales will evoke the highest majesty, Entrance the gluttonous, deprave with vanity, They'll bite the snake and poison its legacy, They'll quietly rake the fields of the mind, Yet each soul is weary, cold and blind, When he is gone, they pay no mind.
His steps are strong, hard, fast Throughout the night, will he last? This is no simple, boring task, The steps to the Hand do more than ask. They take from you and more than due, They make you fight, They run through you. When the night is cold and breezy, You'll find the steps are dark and creepy...
Of course, the man with no name bears on. What has he to fear, you can't hunt what you don't want, For the hunt is a thrill, and trash is pleasureless. The steps are perilous, They hunger for blood, His steps are thunderous, Nailing thud after thud.
Dawn peeks over the distant horizon, And what a sight to see: the man is still rising. In tandem the sky and he play their parts, So does the Empire, putting bodies in carts, For the night brings the dead, so many have tried, To climb up the steps and in doing so, died.
The man with no name treads a feat all his own, But see? A trembling hand. The ache of bone. For the man with no name is tiring, tiring, Even in the face of his glory aspiring.
He would tend to the sick and defend the weak, Danger and challenge and evil he'd seek, To vanquish the rotten And save the damsel, But he's always forgotten, That he couldn't handle.
So this lead him to this fateful day, To this fateful place.
Just look at the sweat cascading his face. Look at his knees, how they groan and slow pace, His legs seem to jostle and wobble out of place. Where is his strong stride? It almost seems funny. Many would do this sort of thing for money. Yet, he does this for his own pride, And that grim determination, from his face, Seems to slide.
He collapses and the jut of a step knocks his face, For the steps are at his throat, Trying to crush his ebbing life.
I've known better men To have fared far worse, But this man looks on his life, Not as gift, As curse.
Who is more deserving? More than he? Cowards! Be gone! Pretenders, flee!
What's this? He props himself up with ease, The fire in his eyes would startle a lion. The steps tremble with fury, They quiver with disgust, They lust for his end, He must die, he must!
"No. " He speaks! "Not today. " The gall! Don't tempt these steps, The Empire's nigh trekable wall! "What I want more than anything, Is to be myself, Whoever I am, So let me pass, you glorified shelf! "
How strange it would be, to be there that day, For the steps let him pass, without delay.
He stood in the face of the Hand of the Empire. Glistening in his palm, the token to buy his face: His full life's earnings, polished, just in case.
He sighed, "All I've ever wanted is to be respected. " At the cusp of his one goal, the man defected.
One day, he told me this tale. This he said, into my conscience: burned. "If you fight death for a name, You'll lose all you've earned. "
man.
Author: DEW
0
Date: 07/04/2020
№ 1210551
Sometimes life needs a repair man
There once was a girl who Had an insecurity complex The size
Of the Grand Canyon
She lived with these feelings And feigned confidence when she could But sometimes Well sometimes She just couldn't Sometimes she couldn't stop the thoughts
STOP! The World cries out Your killing me As you rape my land And pollute my sea Wasn't it Gods plan for man To take care of me If we try I'm sure we can Live in harmony
WHY! The Man cries out Are you always blaming me Can't you see the progress I've made Through my abilities Why is it you think I am Your worst enemy Do you really think you'd be better off If I packed my bags and leave
WHAT! The World cries out Have you gone insane My life here was pristine Till you gave your soul away Look at the mess I'm in Of course you are to blame I've had it up to here With all your silly games
WHOA! The Man cries out Let me tell this to you I've got this little game right here I like to call the nuke Believe me I'm not afraid To use it's full force on you You need to apologize right now Before I turn it loose
GO AHEAD! ** The World cries out Why should I even live When all you want from me Is what it is that I can give So give it your best shot, Man And untie the noose Let's see who will survive Your little game of nuke
I played and was betrayed for a pittance Stayed in the parade out of persistence Gave up all charades of any resistance This is how I earned my own existence - By selling myself by shelling my soul One inch of survival a day for no self determination One loaf of bread to let them make me hollow One stream of piss to shovel from this hovel
I prayed for redemption stayed in this place Strayed from my potential to maintain my space Let them flay me alive till my empathy was displaced And I became a clone of their perfect human race
Just a shadow self of everyone else with no voice And no real face
The man of rock was sullen in heart, As that which he held dear to his heart, Rock was fading from the hollow halls That he had let loud music vibarte the Walls apart.
The pub he had called home, helped The needy, who had to have rock and Metal in there heart, was closing the Doors never to open, never music To entertain the masses, as he left with A empty heart.
But metal had to live on, so a band He made the blazing monkeys, Founded for those that needed Rock & metal in their heart.
So on they went to find their weapons Of rock and metal, a drum kit to make the ears Bleed, to explode a lesser heart. And guitars To cut through the air, to mend those hearts Deprived of rock and metal, so onwards to Rehydrate there minds of what music sounded Like before pop and rave, that tarnished the art.
The old man The old man he stood on the street corner in town. Always had a smile for everyone. He wore an old ragged coat and a pair of pants with holes. It was nice day to him when you said "hello" to him. A box was next to him on the corner. You put ad dollars or so in the box The old man would dance a jig for you. Then tip his hat with a thank you. Now on the corner where he stood is someone that can't dance a jig. He can"t give a smile but the old box is still there.
