Mindblog

THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against Fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings: Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds! Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor-victim bleeds. Your heads must come To the cold tomb: Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom in their dust. By James Shirley

What is it that still remains? Ruins of reins but now inane. That once the stance that stood in shine, oh what remains of that troubled time? Stood there did she, that brutal score. That scorn, the rage made heavens mourn. That devilish smile was masked divine.. Not one, but many sought penance in thine.. "Where goes that maiden?", asked the king to me, "what be the source of her destiny?" "knew I if so what you ask me king, be blessed," said I with a golden grin.. You will last said she, is your present such. Shall I vanish in air this moment thus.. You shall grow said she, with leaps and bounds, For I have seen your future such...

Laugh we shall at naivety such, crushed is nothing but lust, in fuss.. The pain once had, subsides said she, but drown we shall in memories thus.. In crushing lashing pain said she! with rising ruining storms of dust! Will leave the poets in pall, in shame, no maker cure him can, the rut.. Then fate here plays the devilish game, thus seals the deal of blame in flames.. The walls so high, those nights how wry, no wonder made he, us fall, a must..

The hour is now so late the last tube will soon go by have left it hence to fate for you i'll wait, i'll wait.. the stench comes off my clothes burning in this cold for those that drink you said we'll share that place, that ware, that fair.. oh what became of thee went faint we in thy stare fell off the tip of mind aware of the moonlit air.. sangria was the night sangria were the notes sangria was the kiss and yet there was amiss.. that night was calm and strong forbid of any song for deep within my soul it'll never be bygone.. have left it hence to fate an hour it is too late for her time thus we throw bait at Bond Street we shall wait..

It shall all be fine, this time will fly you shall remember the time gone by and laugh at miseries naive tears of joy shall trickle hence shall be forgotten the trust shall be forgotten the mist the fist of anger once portrayed shall vanish in the gleam of bliss time shall fly by sweet child all that remains will be the red sky this sky shall be for the one who follows the letter thence be opened forgotten the notes of suffocation the time shall fly by oh sweet one this time shall come not again shall not be the end though this each phase will thus arise shall you go through the cycle again it shall repeat beware itself hence red skies will reappear shall you remember this phrase once again for gleam and joy will fill your face