December 2010
16 posts
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The world loves to be deceived, so let it be deceived.
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108.
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Master Peace. →
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Remember to die.
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Our nature is filthy, the vultures feed, thieves rest easy, even dead men dream. False faces and dead end streets, fuel the fire inside of me. Hollow homes of shallow souls, breed clone after clone. All eyes stare as I laugh at another bad joke. My mind off in the clouds, my heart filled with doubt, on broken glass I walk these streets, looking for you but finding me. The other ghosts agree,...
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In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
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My father is not my author. I am who I must be. The first and filthiest son, a bastard of the seven seas, but a curse adopted, a thief underneath. I wont deny purpose or dynasty. A hollow cost suffered for holding on. Let go or be dragged. Before too long, you will seek, a happy death on this beach. I walk the dead man’s walk, speak the language of peace, worship the dirt, not on my knees,...