Dear Peeps,
This used to be on the header to this blog, but I didn't want it anymore on the header. However, I still wanted to post it...so I did:
Life really is like a box of chocolates. Sometimes it can be bitter, sometimes it can be sweet. Sometimes it looks sweet on the outside, but it turns out bitter. Sometimes it just plain tastes bad. Sometimes you want to savor its taste melting in your mouth. Sometimes you can waste it so quickly that its gone before you know it. Sometimes you just gotta enjoy what kind of box was given to you. But most of all, I love chocolate. :)
Psalmer
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Thursday, December 01, 2005
The Gospel of Pimp
We’ve been tricked,
The world is just a lie,
She shoves sex down our throats constantly,
She tells us we must have all the girls that playboy picked
But that is the world’s way to be content,
And that only leads to death,
The people that follow that path end up with emptiness inside,
Their lives get washed up and do not even bother to repent
You go around this world and know there’s gotta be something more,
We weren’t put on this Earth just by accident,
We aren’t just a bunch of random objects in space constantly colliding with one another,
But you don’t really face the truth until you have tripped and fallen on the floor
When someone above this Earth puts you back on your feet,
And you know that he loves you more than a poem could convey,
You can finally put a smile on your face,
You begin to march to another drummer’s beat
I don’t pretend to be a man with the most power in the land,
Nor do I have any riches to show off,
I have no maidens to console me,
But I do know the touch of an angelic hand
Things of this world do not matter,
You do not need women to be a true pimp,
Beauty is fleeting,
And money just makes our greed even fatter
So now I am a disciple of the truest Gospel,
And the worth of a man is not by his wealth,
But a true pimp is in his perception,
He is happy in what his God has given him and rejoices for his life has been full.
The world is just a lie,
She shoves sex down our throats constantly,
She tells us we must have all the girls that playboy picked
But that is the world’s way to be content,
And that only leads to death,
The people that follow that path end up with emptiness inside,
Their lives get washed up and do not even bother to repent
You go around this world and know there’s gotta be something more,
We weren’t put on this Earth just by accident,
We aren’t just a bunch of random objects in space constantly colliding with one another,
But you don’t really face the truth until you have tripped and fallen on the floor
When someone above this Earth puts you back on your feet,
And you know that he loves you more than a poem could convey,
You can finally put a smile on your face,
You begin to march to another drummer’s beat
I don’t pretend to be a man with the most power in the land,
Nor do I have any riches to show off,
I have no maidens to console me,
But I do know the touch of an angelic hand
Things of this world do not matter,
You do not need women to be a true pimp,
Beauty is fleeting,
And money just makes our greed even fatter
So now I am a disciple of the truest Gospel,
And the worth of a man is not by his wealth,
But a true pimp is in his perception,
He is happy in what his God has given him and rejoices for his life has been full.
Anyone for Metaphors?
Figment
The once great dragon
Flew above the two legs’ city
Reminiscing of how things had
Changed since they first came
Once lush valleys covered the land
Then they had come with
Stone walls and steel; replacing
Green grass and forests
At first they feared and honored the majestic animal
Gasping as he flew passed
He did not fear them
He thought he was untouchable
He thought these primitive beasts could not harm him
He soon found out that he was greatly
Mistaken
They began to spread all across his once great
Kingdom
Forgetting it was not their own
Raping its fruit and erecting
Idols of their own invention
They drove the true king into the mountains
Away from his once happy home
They began to believe that he was just a myth
And began to disrespect this heavenly lands
The two footers built cities over what used to be
Apple orchards
The dragon began to fade
No longer a real being in the eyes of the wingless ones
The epitome of nobility and grace was
To be replaced by cynicism and logic
True
Beauty was forgotten
Man finally found what it meant to be alone and
Empty
Realizing he was no longer wanted on this Earth
He slipped out of memory and mind; and ceased to
Puff.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Flyin' Through the 'Verse
Good characterization has a large impact on the quality and enjoyment level of folklore and fiction. This is certainly true in popular science fiction T.V. shows and movies. For example, when the creator of the original Star Trek, Gene Roddenberry, created his space opera he made sure his three leading characters: Spock, Doctor McCoy, and Captain Kirk were well thought out and interacted with each other in interesting ways. This made the horribly done (at least by today’s standards) special effects and oftentimes-generic plots seem forgivable because of the way the three officers’ relationships evolved.
A few years ago, the creator and screenwriter of the hit T.V. shows Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, Joss Whedon, created a science fiction/western show that explored the relationships of a much larger group of characters. Firefly, as Whedon called this new show, is set in a future five hundred years in the future. Terra-formed worlds on the “core” make up a tyrannical dominating empire called the Alliance. (And yes, we actually do see evidence of tyranny in this Alliance, unlike an assumed tyranny like that of the Galactic Empire in the Star Wars canon.*) A resistance called the Browncoats rose up against this Alliance, and lost. The captain of the Firefly class ship, Serenity, Malcolm Reynolds, was one of these resistance fighters. This was the backdrop for the show Firefly. Unfortunately, this show was pulled from Fox after just a few episodes due to an out of order showing of these episodes and poor ratings.
Slowly, a fan base began to grow out of the ashes of this condemned show. Calling themselves Browncoats after the resistance fighters in their beloved show, these fanatics spread Firefly across the globe using the DVD boxed set as their main weapon. Eventually, the movie company Universal saw how the DVD was in the top ten DVD list on the online mega store, Amazon and decided to propose a movie deal with Joss Whedon. He began to film his blockbuster, Serenity, named after Mal’s firefly shaped ship. Opening in theaters on September 30, 2005 in the United States, the movie has so far made a disappointing 36 million dollars.
Soon to be released on December 20, 2005 in the United States as a DVD, Serenity will hopefully make double the amount it has already gained. If only people knew what quality science fiction they were missing, this movie would gain a lot more money. Even if you do not enjoy science fiction normally, this series and movie will have you enticed. As I have stated earlier, this is mainly due to the characters and interactions that occur between the characters. Mal, a usually dark and brooding type is very interesting, because unlike most protagonists in modern films and shows he does not always do the right thing. In fact, he, as well as the rest of his eight (I could argue nine) crewmates, are thieves, thugs, and criminals, so they are usually doing the wrong thing. (At least the Alliance is convinced that what they are doing is wrong.) This is not a black and white cast (the good guys, and the bad guys) many of the characters are in the grey area, like they would be. The dialogue from both Firefly and Serenity are what one would come to expect from Whedon, witty interjections, but often emotionally driven thought provoking lines. Both the beauty and the ugliness of humanity shows through the ‘Verse (universe), as the crew of Serenity battles barbarian men called Reavers. The problems of this ‘Verse are all started and overcome by humans, without the absurdity of other science fiction shows filled with aliens. That is what people find so drawing to this show, the relationships between humans and also the humanity shining out in the themes of this world, the fact that its still a very human story underneath all the “fairy dust”.
(*I am of the camp that the rebel alliance was a terrorist organization…but that’s another article ☺)
A few years ago, the creator and screenwriter of the hit T.V. shows Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, Joss Whedon, created a science fiction/western show that explored the relationships of a much larger group of characters. Firefly, as Whedon called this new show, is set in a future five hundred years in the future. Terra-formed worlds on the “core” make up a tyrannical dominating empire called the Alliance. (And yes, we actually do see evidence of tyranny in this Alliance, unlike an assumed tyranny like that of the Galactic Empire in the Star Wars canon.*) A resistance called the Browncoats rose up against this Alliance, and lost. The captain of the Firefly class ship, Serenity, Malcolm Reynolds, was one of these resistance fighters. This was the backdrop for the show Firefly. Unfortunately, this show was pulled from Fox after just a few episodes due to an out of order showing of these episodes and poor ratings.
Slowly, a fan base began to grow out of the ashes of this condemned show. Calling themselves Browncoats after the resistance fighters in their beloved show, these fanatics spread Firefly across the globe using the DVD boxed set as their main weapon. Eventually, the movie company Universal saw how the DVD was in the top ten DVD list on the online mega store, Amazon and decided to propose a movie deal with Joss Whedon. He began to film his blockbuster, Serenity, named after Mal’s firefly shaped ship. Opening in theaters on September 30, 2005 in the United States, the movie has so far made a disappointing 36 million dollars.
Soon to be released on December 20, 2005 in the United States as a DVD, Serenity will hopefully make double the amount it has already gained. If only people knew what quality science fiction they were missing, this movie would gain a lot more money. Even if you do not enjoy science fiction normally, this series and movie will have you enticed. As I have stated earlier, this is mainly due to the characters and interactions that occur between the characters. Mal, a usually dark and brooding type is very interesting, because unlike most protagonists in modern films and shows he does not always do the right thing. In fact, he, as well as the rest of his eight (I could argue nine) crewmates, are thieves, thugs, and criminals, so they are usually doing the wrong thing. (At least the Alliance is convinced that what they are doing is wrong.) This is not a black and white cast (the good guys, and the bad guys) many of the characters are in the grey area, like they would be. The dialogue from both Firefly and Serenity are what one would come to expect from Whedon, witty interjections, but often emotionally driven thought provoking lines. Both the beauty and the ugliness of humanity shows through the ‘Verse (universe), as the crew of Serenity battles barbarian men called Reavers. The problems of this ‘Verse are all started and overcome by humans, without the absurdity of other science fiction shows filled with aliens. That is what people find so drawing to this show, the relationships between humans and also the humanity shining out in the themes of this world, the fact that its still a very human story underneath all the “fairy dust”.
(*I am of the camp that the rebel alliance was a terrorist organization…but that’s another article ☺)
Monday, November 28, 2005
Fileo
Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: It ain't all buttons and charts little Albatross. You know what the first rule of flyin' is? Well I suppose you do, since you already know what I'm about to say.
River Tam: I do, but I like to hear you say it.
Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: Love. You can know all the math in the 'Verse, but take a boat in the air you don't love, she ain't keepin' up just as sure as the turning of worlds. Love keeps her up when she ought to fall down, tells ya she's hurtin' 'fore she keens, makes her home.
River Tam: Storm's getting worse.
Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: We'll pass through it soon enough.
River Tam: I do, but I like to hear you say it.
Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: Love. You can know all the math in the 'Verse, but take a boat in the air you don't love, she ain't keepin' up just as sure as the turning of worlds. Love keeps her up when she ought to fall down, tells ya she's hurtin' 'fore she keens, makes her home.
River Tam: Storm's getting worse.
Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: We'll pass through it soon enough.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Oтец
Dear Peeps,
Ok...this poem was an assignment for creative writing to get into the mind of a person different from yourself. The teacher told me to do it about a male, 22, who is a father out of wedlock...o and...he's also Eastern European. I think this poem kind of shows God's love for us...in a strange and abstract way....:)
God Bless
elscribe
Oтец
I sit on the couch
Watching the crib anxiously in the corner
The baby is for now silent
I can rest for a few moments at least
Thoughts turn back to when this all started
I can’t even remember everything that happened
It all fades in and out of my mind like an agile sea monster
When I left Moscow for college in Volgograd
That was the first time I had met her
That was before things had become out of control
We never realized it would have come to this
It was just a matter of time
We thought we were in love
Our impulses took over
Before we knew it
She was pregnant
She went through with it though
That was when my anxiety started
Fear of what I would do to support them
Circulated around in my head
Then he came into this world
A helpless bundle of drool and excrement
Grinning from a toothless milk hole
That was when she left
She said that she couldn’t cope
He was not her son
She left him with me
Now I sit here
In my empty apartment in downtown Volgograd
The television blares in the corner of my eye
Breaking news flashes on the screen
Images of a gym filled with children
A black-robed terrorist holds a gun
Bombs hooked around a school
The casualty count rises
Chechnya’s resistance movement is still alive
The TV’s sound blasts
A cry rises from the crib in the corner of the room
I cross over and look into the bed and its occupant
Picking up the infant
I look into his youthful blue eyes
I worry for the world he will be growing up in
Tumultuous rebellions and wars
He’ll need guidance and people guarding him
He’ll be safe…
I’ll make sure of that
His мать may have abandoned him
But I’m still here
His little pudgy hand grips mine
I cry for the little dead bodies on a distant gym floor
Their parents cry for them now
My сын will not go that way
He will be protected
I won’t let the villains in this world get to him
I’m his father…
Oтец
Ok...this poem was an assignment for creative writing to get into the mind of a person different from yourself. The teacher told me to do it about a male, 22, who is a father out of wedlock...o and...he's also Eastern European. I think this poem kind of shows God's love for us...in a strange and abstract way....:)
God Bless
elscribe
Oтец
I sit on the couch
Watching the crib anxiously in the corner
The baby is for now silent
I can rest for a few moments at least
Thoughts turn back to when this all started
I can’t even remember everything that happened
It all fades in and out of my mind like an agile sea monster
When I left Moscow for college in Volgograd
That was the first time I had met her
That was before things had become out of control
We never realized it would have come to this
It was just a matter of time
We thought we were in love
Our impulses took over
Before we knew it
She was pregnant
She went through with it though
That was when my anxiety started
Fear of what I would do to support them
Circulated around in my head
Then he came into this world
A helpless bundle of drool and excrement
Grinning from a toothless milk hole
That was when she left
She said that she couldn’t cope
He was not her son
She left him with me
Now I sit here
In my empty apartment in downtown Volgograd
The television blares in the corner of my eye
Breaking news flashes on the screen
Images of a gym filled with children
A black-robed terrorist holds a gun
Bombs hooked around a school
The casualty count rises
Chechnya’s resistance movement is still alive
The TV’s sound blasts
A cry rises from the crib in the corner of the room
I cross over and look into the bed and its occupant
Picking up the infant
I look into his youthful blue eyes
I worry for the world he will be growing up in
Tumultuous rebellions and wars
He’ll need guidance and people guarding him
He’ll be safe…
I’ll make sure of that
His мать may have abandoned him
But I’m still here
His little pudgy hand grips mine
I cry for the little dead bodies on a distant gym floor
Their parents cry for them now
My сын will not go that way
He will be protected
I won’t let the villains in this world get to him
I’m his father…
Oтец
Friday, November 18, 2005
Supernatural
I’ve been looking,
I've been dreaming,
I’ve been thinking,
I’ve been searching,
I’ve been lost,
But now it doesn’t matter what was the cost,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
I’ve found him,
Him,
Him,
Through him I find kin,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
I hear them whisper in tongues,
Tongues,
Tongues,
They cry to him with righteous lungs,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
Troubles of this world fade,
Fade,
Fade,
Our debts have been paid,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
We will follow him to the end of days,
Days,
Days,
We are soaking in the Son’s rays,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
Uberpowerful,
Uberpowerful,
We are truly made,
We are truly saved…
Supernatural!!!
I've been dreaming,
I’ve been thinking,
I’ve been searching,
I’ve been lost,
But now it doesn’t matter what was the cost,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
I’ve found him,
Him,
Him,
Through him I find kin,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
I hear them whisper in tongues,
Tongues,
Tongues,
They cry to him with righteous lungs,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
Troubles of this world fade,
Fade,
Fade,
Our debts have been paid,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
We will follow him to the end of days,
Days,
Days,
We are soaking in the Son’s rays,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
Uberpowerful,
Uberpowerful,
We are truly made,
We are truly saved…
Supernatural!!!
She Hate Me
There’s nowhere but up from here,
My eyes have no more strength left for another tear,
I am now completely rejected,
I wonder if I am still even respected,
They hate me with an even deeper passion,
I am always talking to brick walls and crashin’,
Gossip thunders around,
Lies never cease to pound,
She feels I’m a threat,
Some shadowy Boba Fett,
So I gotta finally let her go,
But I every time I see her I feel I’m reading a morbid poem by Poe,
Her heart is with another,
While mine is stuck in the gutter,
She Hate Me,
And I gotta let her go,
She Hate Me,
Cuz every time I see her tears begin to flow,
She Hate Me,
I never thought I’d get this low,
You Hate Me,
And boy, does it blow…
My eyes have no more strength left for another tear,
I am now completely rejected,
I wonder if I am still even respected,
They hate me with an even deeper passion,
I am always talking to brick walls and crashin’,
Gossip thunders around,
Lies never cease to pound,
She feels I’m a threat,
Some shadowy Boba Fett,
So I gotta finally let her go,
But I every time I see her I feel I’m reading a morbid poem by Poe,
Her heart is with another,
While mine is stuck in the gutter,
She Hate Me,
And I gotta let her go,
She Hate Me,
Cuz every time I see her tears begin to flow,
She Hate Me,
I never thought I’d get this low,
You Hate Me,
And boy, does it blow…
Thursday, November 17, 2005
"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end"
Brothers,
So I did. I gave her that poem. Or atleast, a freind gave it to her for me. (Btw...this is the girl I vowed never to bother again :() So she apparently thinks that I know her entire schedule....and crap like that. (I think I told a freind that...its....true....) So she wants me to leave her alone...and it apparently really upset her. So much for making up. UGHHHH I don't know how to say this. I just need some...guidance...or prayer....or something.
I just wanna deal with God and just be a soldier for him in the war. But all I see down on this earth is girls and stupid fleeting teenage bullshit. I just wanna.....be walking in supernatural affairs....and not worried about.....stuff...and all this excess luggage and garbage. I also feel all alone at my school....and so...secluded...and stuck in this impenetrable bubble. It's just horrible.....I feel I have no true freinds in that school...I mean I know I do....but it's just so......cloaked in despair.....I feel very lost, confused and bemused. That's all I have to say about that.
God Bless
elscribe
So I did. I gave her that poem. Or atleast, a freind gave it to her for me. (Btw...this is the girl I vowed never to bother again :() So she apparently thinks that I know her entire schedule....and crap like that. (I think I told a freind that...its....true....) So she wants me to leave her alone...and it apparently really upset her. So much for making up. UGHHHH I don't know how to say this. I just need some...guidance...or prayer....or something.
I just wanna deal with God and just be a soldier for him in the war. But all I see down on this earth is girls and stupid fleeting teenage bullshit. I just wanna.....be walking in supernatural affairs....and not worried about.....stuff...and all this excess luggage and garbage. I also feel all alone at my school....and so...secluded...and stuck in this impenetrable bubble. It's just horrible.....I feel I have no true freinds in that school...I mean I know I do....but it's just so......cloaked in despair.....I feel very lost, confused and bemused. That's all I have to say about that.
God Bless
elscribe
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Shame
should i tell her?
When you look at me,
My mind explodes into a stormy sea,
I can’t think,
You make my pride and ego shrink,
You make me ponder,
Hold my head low and wander,
Whenever I see your face,
I see how I’m a disgrace,
I finally know that you won’t forgive,
Until we cease to live,
You glare as I roll by,
When I’m near you my throat goes numb and dry,
I can’t tell you who I truly am,
Why I follow the lamb,
Why I lied,
The reason why I even tried,
When I see your faint fair form,
My whole world is torn,
When you glide past; my palms go all wet,
I begin to think of what I did and fret,
I shouldn’t even be writing this lament,
It’s not even God sent (I guess I’ll have to repent J),
When I am near you I cry to my ethereal Lord,
I play a song to him on my harp’s cord,
I still wonder why I was such a dick,
The clock on my life never ceases to tick,
I can’t stay in this place anymore,
I’m stepping through the door,
You don’t even care,
My heart begins to tear,
It’s only an adolescent crush,
But I see you and I’m only painting rainbows of brown with my brush,
I don’t know what to do,
In my head it’s like a zoo,
You hate my guts,
But you aren’t among the sluts,
You’re nice,
When you stare at me like that I feel like a mere garbage slice,
I’m ashamed of what I did,
I’m no longer a kid,
So I apologized,
But I never realized,
That you could never give me a second chance,
But I’m still thinking of a lost friend in my rants,
They say I shouldn’t care so much,
They say your just a snotty such and such,
But I see so much more,
I don’t know exactly; but it’s rocking me to my core,
Should I even show you this?
Or is your reaction just gonna throw me off the abyss?
I’m so frustrated with my actions,
My lusts; my plastic attractions,
Yeah; I’m the one that was plastic,
Even though many others can’t see through my sickness and spastic,
But you put up with me,
Even when I acted like I was three,
I’m trying to tell you why I can’t go up to you and talk,
Why I first stole your screen name and began to stalk,
Man, I wish I hadn’t written this ballad,
You probably think I’m the most pathetic lad,
It’s probably true too,
I haven’t thought any of this through,
Maybe you’ll still hate me after you’ve read,
The thought of that fills me with dread,
But I don’t know what else I could do,
This may seem like its outta the blue,
And it is,
But poetry is my biz,
So that’s why I rhyme,
Maybe it will make up for my crime,
I shouldn’t have even started,
You probably think I’m retarded,
I think I am,
I flirt like a battering ram,
I wish I could change the past,
But I’m praying the silence between us won’t last,
But every time I see you I feel my shame,
Cuz besides my lil sis, you’re the prettiest dame,
Accuse me of being a pervert,
Treat me like dirt,
But I will not stop liking you,
Even when your not part of my crew,
I’m sorry for the stalking,
Maybe we’ll meet on the other side, when I’m walking…
-Asshole
When you look at me,
My mind explodes into a stormy sea,
I can’t think,
You make my pride and ego shrink,
You make me ponder,
Hold my head low and wander,
Whenever I see your face,
I see how I’m a disgrace,
I finally know that you won’t forgive,
Until we cease to live,
You glare as I roll by,
When I’m near you my throat goes numb and dry,
I can’t tell you who I truly am,
Why I follow the lamb,
Why I lied,
The reason why I even tried,
When I see your faint fair form,
My whole world is torn,
When you glide past; my palms go all wet,
I begin to think of what I did and fret,
I shouldn’t even be writing this lament,
It’s not even God sent (I guess I’ll have to repent J),
When I am near you I cry to my ethereal Lord,
I play a song to him on my harp’s cord,
I still wonder why I was such a dick,
The clock on my life never ceases to tick,
I can’t stay in this place anymore,
I’m stepping through the door,
You don’t even care,
My heart begins to tear,
It’s only an adolescent crush,
But I see you and I’m only painting rainbows of brown with my brush,
I don’t know what to do,
In my head it’s like a zoo,
You hate my guts,
But you aren’t among the sluts,
You’re nice,
When you stare at me like that I feel like a mere garbage slice,
I’m ashamed of what I did,
I’m no longer a kid,
So I apologized,
But I never realized,
That you could never give me a second chance,
But I’m still thinking of a lost friend in my rants,
They say I shouldn’t care so much,
They say your just a snotty such and such,
But I see so much more,
I don’t know exactly; but it’s rocking me to my core,
Should I even show you this?
Or is your reaction just gonna throw me off the abyss?
I’m so frustrated with my actions,
My lusts; my plastic attractions,
Yeah; I’m the one that was plastic,
Even though many others can’t see through my sickness and spastic,
But you put up with me,
Even when I acted like I was three,
I’m trying to tell you why I can’t go up to you and talk,
Why I first stole your screen name and began to stalk,
Man, I wish I hadn’t written this ballad,
You probably think I’m the most pathetic lad,
It’s probably true too,
I haven’t thought any of this through,
Maybe you’ll still hate me after you’ve read,
The thought of that fills me with dread,
But I don’t know what else I could do,
This may seem like its outta the blue,
And it is,
But poetry is my biz,
So that’s why I rhyme,
Maybe it will make up for my crime,
I shouldn’t have even started,
You probably think I’m retarded,
I think I am,
I flirt like a battering ram,
I wish I could change the past,
But I’m praying the silence between us won’t last,
But every time I see you I feel my shame,
Cuz besides my lil sis, you’re the prettiest dame,
Accuse me of being a pervert,
Treat me like dirt,
But I will not stop liking you,
Even when your not part of my crew,
I’m sorry for the stalking,
Maybe we’ll meet on the other side, when I’m walking…
-Asshole
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Authority
Down in the bog,
Being a big brother to my crew,
Trying to pull them through this high school slog,
They all askin' me what to do,
As if I'm a sage or wise man,
But really I'm just stuck in the same crappy loo,
O, Lord, I thank you though,
Before you I had no one to aide,
In me seeds of freinship you do sow,
I am your harpist,
I will be your phoenix beacon,
I will be your sword; and strive to be the sharpest,
I thank you, Lord,
From the depths of Mordor you pulled me,
All your love will begin to be poured.....
Being a big brother to my crew,
Trying to pull them through this high school slog,
They all askin' me what to do,
As if I'm a sage or wise man,
But really I'm just stuck in the same crappy loo,
O, Lord, I thank you though,
Before you I had no one to aide,
In me seeds of freinship you do sow,
I am your harpist,
I will be your phoenix beacon,
I will be your sword; and strive to be the sharpest,
I thank you, Lord,
From the depths of Mordor you pulled me,
All your love will begin to be poured.....
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
"I still haven't found what I'm looking for"
8 Mac
I sit here writin’ on my pad,
Melancholic and sad,
Watchin the passin’ females,
Their bitter farewells are painted on their fadin’ sails,
They don’t understand my way,
They just go by,
The eighth house on MacDonald drive,
Not even knowin’,
Not bothering in friendship sowin’,
So why should I care,
Who’s the next pair,
On the in crowd’s square,
I’m just the one in corner,
Seething as I rage in my own personal sauna,
So I’m strikin’ out on my own,
To the wayward winds I will be blown,
Acidic feelings pointed towards my life,
Screamin’ to God why it seems to be filled with such strife,
Why I can’t have what I think I want,
When even when the girl wants me; hellish damnation seems to daunt,
Other girls I want seem to just smile and taunt,
I lay on my bed in the darkest watch of the night,
While all my dreams seem to be out of sight,
When Satan tries to pull me down,
As all the rainbows I paint turn brown,
I just listen to music,
While demons try to twist the lyrics into a trick,
It’s like an endless rock ballad,
A psalm to my heavenly Dad,
Why do I even strive?
To stay in this dump; am I even truly alive?
I’m just waiting for college,
As I fortify myself behind a burning hedge,
Maybe it will be better there,
But I’ll always be different to them; square,
I’m just waitin’ for my Lord to come from the clouds,
So he can peel back these fleshy shrouds,
But I can’t see why he wants me here,
Satan just seems to mock my stagnation with a maniacal jeer,
I’ll wait on you, my lord,
But I’m getting stuck here; bored,
I pray to be an agent of the supernatural,
Burning banners of Baal,
Yelling a Christian war cry,
To combat the enemy’s lie,
As the drums hum into the dawn,
Until the son comes riding up to my lawn,
I’ll be so far from 8 Mac,
He’ll take me on his ethereal bus and there will be no looking back…
Btw....kinda based on Eminem's 8 Mile..btw...my address is 8 Macdonald Ave...if you didn't kno already...
I sit here writin’ on my pad,
Melancholic and sad,
Watchin the passin’ females,
Their bitter farewells are painted on their fadin’ sails,
They don’t understand my way,
They just go by,
The eighth house on MacDonald drive,
Not even knowin’,
Not bothering in friendship sowin’,
So why should I care,
Who’s the next pair,
On the in crowd’s square,
I’m just the one in corner,
Seething as I rage in my own personal sauna,
So I’m strikin’ out on my own,
To the wayward winds I will be blown,
Acidic feelings pointed towards my life,
Screamin’ to God why it seems to be filled with such strife,
Why I can’t have what I think I want,
When even when the girl wants me; hellish damnation seems to daunt,
Other girls I want seem to just smile and taunt,
I lay on my bed in the darkest watch of the night,
While all my dreams seem to be out of sight,
When Satan tries to pull me down,
As all the rainbows I paint turn brown,
I just listen to music,
While demons try to twist the lyrics into a trick,
It’s like an endless rock ballad,
A psalm to my heavenly Dad,
Why do I even strive?
To stay in this dump; am I even truly alive?
I’m just waiting for college,
As I fortify myself behind a burning hedge,
Maybe it will be better there,
But I’ll always be different to them; square,
I’m just waitin’ for my Lord to come from the clouds,
So he can peel back these fleshy shrouds,
But I can’t see why he wants me here,
Satan just seems to mock my stagnation with a maniacal jeer,
I’ll wait on you, my lord,
But I’m getting stuck here; bored,
I pray to be an agent of the supernatural,
Burning banners of Baal,
Yelling a Christian war cry,
To combat the enemy’s lie,
As the drums hum into the dawn,
Until the son comes riding up to my lawn,
I’ll be so far from 8 Mac,
He’ll take me on his ethereal bus and there will be no looking back…
Btw....kinda based on Eminem's 8 Mile..btw...my address is 8 Macdonald Ave...if you didn't kno already...
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Bound
Bound
All I see,
Is who I can’t be,
Watching from the distant shore,
Wishing I could soar,
Am I the broken chain?
Am I the one I should blame?
Rage is shrouding,
The room of my mind is crowding,
Under attack,
Cloaked in black,
Praying for change,
It’s like I’m deranged,
All I do is lament,
All I do is vent,
Even after I repent,
I go home and still transgress,
Satan makes me feel like I’m something less,
Self-built barriers,
Demonic harriers,
Asking where to go,
Which seeds to sow,
I look around me and see I’m not the same,
They look at me and say lame,
Behind my back,
Trying to derail my track,
Saying how I’m whack,
How I’m a pariah,
But really I’m just about to tire,
I can’t take anymore of their phony plastic,
Maybe I’ll do something brutally drastic,
Rage still a cage,
Burning flames on my page,
They say he’s just going through that age,
But he knows its so much more,
Something from deep within his core,
His heart; his temple is being rocked,
After too many of his peers have him blocked,
Lying alone in his bed,
Healing will take place they said,
All he feels right now is dead,
Does faith have enough street-cred?
What will happen on the thirty-first?
Will I continue to be cursed?...
All I see,
Is who I can’t be,
Watching from the distant shore,
Wishing I could soar,
Am I the broken chain?
Am I the one I should blame?
Rage is shrouding,
The room of my mind is crowding,
Under attack,
Cloaked in black,
Praying for change,
It’s like I’m deranged,
All I do is lament,
All I do is vent,
Even after I repent,
I go home and still transgress,
Satan makes me feel like I’m something less,
Self-built barriers,
Demonic harriers,
Asking where to go,
Which seeds to sow,
I look around me and see I’m not the same,
They look at me and say lame,
Behind my back,
Trying to derail my track,
Saying how I’m whack,
How I’m a pariah,
But really I’m just about to tire,
I can’t take anymore of their phony plastic,
Maybe I’ll do something brutally drastic,
Rage still a cage,
Burning flames on my page,
They say he’s just going through that age,
But he knows its so much more,
Something from deep within his core,
His heart; his temple is being rocked,
After too many of his peers have him blocked,
Lying alone in his bed,
Healing will take place they said,
All he feels right now is dead,
Does faith have enough street-cred?
What will happen on the thirty-first?
Will I continue to be cursed?...
Friday, October 28, 2005
Yahweh's Retort
Yahweh’s Retort
Satan spoke to me in the darkest watch of last night,
His deceptive words and lies tricked me to incite,
Rage at people I just want to love,
I forgot about forgiveness and the one above,
I screamed to my creator on his throne,
Why I was in my situation; seemingly alone,
But how could one so divine,
Be betrayed by those he had over to dine,
How could he understand,
How people have left me for a more fruitful land,
The devil gripped my heart,
And tore all that was good in me apart,
Then my God reminded me of the wizard sage,
Who was speaking to that hobbit around my own spiritual age,
That I must make good on the time that I have,
Even when it seems I can’t even walk that path,
Then I saw my king strung up on the cross,
I was able to remember the cost,
That my savior has been where I have been,
He has seen the travesties I have seen,
He, too, wondered if he was forsaken,
His intentions were also gravely mistaken,
He was there before,
And he knows that for him I could soar,
I want to truly understand his affection,
I want to see past the human infection,
Walking down the center of this town,
Teaching of blood shed on a thorny crown,
Preaching love of brothers,
Sending the hearts of the children back to their broken mothers,
I am beloved,
I have friends; forget what I said,
I pray for my lord’s mercy,
For his Agape I am thirsty,
He loves my every part,
For me he has such a big heart,
Even when I cry to him why I am forsaken,
Even when I feel like all my joy has been taken,
I no longer want to be the shadow boy,
I will show all the world the reason for my unabated joy,
Abba loves you I will cry on,
As that drumbeat heralds the coming of the new Zion...
Satan spoke to me in the darkest watch of last night,
His deceptive words and lies tricked me to incite,
Rage at people I just want to love,
I forgot about forgiveness and the one above,
I screamed to my creator on his throne,
Why I was in my situation; seemingly alone,
But how could one so divine,
Be betrayed by those he had over to dine,
How could he understand,
How people have left me for a more fruitful land,
The devil gripped my heart,
And tore all that was good in me apart,
Then my God reminded me of the wizard sage,
Who was speaking to that hobbit around my own spiritual age,
That I must make good on the time that I have,
Even when it seems I can’t even walk that path,
Then I saw my king strung up on the cross,
I was able to remember the cost,
That my savior has been where I have been,
He has seen the travesties I have seen,
He, too, wondered if he was forsaken,
His intentions were also gravely mistaken,
He was there before,
And he knows that for him I could soar,
I want to truly understand his affection,
I want to see past the human infection,
Walking down the center of this town,
Teaching of blood shed on a thorny crown,
Preaching love of brothers,
Sending the hearts of the children back to their broken mothers,
I am beloved,
I have friends; forget what I said,
I pray for my lord’s mercy,
For his Agape I am thirsty,
He loves my every part,
For me he has such a big heart,
Even when I cry to him why I am forsaken,
Even when I feel like all my joy has been taken,
I no longer want to be the shadow boy,
I will show all the world the reason for my unabated joy,
Abba loves you I will cry on,
As that drumbeat heralds the coming of the new Zion...
Thursday, October 27, 2005
"Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage"
ANGER
Green Thunder
Shadows swirl,
Defeated angels curl,
Scholarly stagnation,
Trampled elation,
Creeping depression,
Growing obsession,
Pained rage,
Bloody page,
Imprisonment,
God sent?
Dreaming of the stars,
Visions of electric guitars,
There is no spoon,
There is no more room,
Mounting hate,
Second chances are too late,
Hanging crosses,
Tyrannical bosses,
Am I living my own burial?
Searching for Ariel
Crying to the Lord,
I’m the one with the worst hand on the board,
I’ve been this way for years,
I’ve put up with the evil spirits’ jeers,
I’m not sure how longer I can take this rejection,
Longing, staring at my ugly reflection,
I can hear the voices,
The ones on each shoulder at every one of my choices,
All crying DISORDER!
I’m stuck in isolated Mordor,
All I can hear is the methodic drumming,
I have to dance to that constant thrumming,
Even though I can’t move,
I got a God to prove,
Even through my doubts,
So I can save all the heathen louts,
So….you know what?
I’m not gonna waste my emotions on you and turn into a raving nut,
I despise you people,
Let others pray to you on your fair steeple,
I’ll let you fester,
I’m no longer gonna pester,
Staring at the gravestone,
Gazing at my illuminated monitor; in the dark; all alone,
What have I got to live for?
A chance to rise from my chains and soar?
But every time I glance at the Holy Grail,
I don’t really believe, and I fail,
I stare at the ground,
And wonder if I’ve truly been found,
Away from the populous,
Living in the gutters of Metropolis,
Looking for a way out,
Encircled by doubt,
What would I do if I found a gun?
Trust me…. that day at my school would not be fun,
Watch them go to the fair one and bow,
As they pray to their gods and give them a fattened cow,
All this pain bottled up,
Overflowing in life’s cup,
Don’t know where to go with my life and this poem,
Not in the in crowd; don’t even know any of them,
I can’t even by taken away from here; beamed,
Running down the mountain I have dreamed,
Anger at the world,
My flag of rage unfurled,
Righteousness tainted,
Blood upon the walls will be painted,
Then they’ll know how it is to be dead,
Lying all alone, unable to move from their bed,
I lie there by myself while listening to rap,
Stagnant in life’s sweat and crap,
Always getting the girls you don’t want,
While the ones you do just smile at you and taunt,
It’s not fair,
Watching all the pairs,
By yourself,
Watching the formerly empty window shelf,
If I gain a fortune,
They’ll be on me before the next June,
It doesn’t truly matter,
But everyone else is allowed to flatter,
Not the cripple,
Not the cripple,
He’s all by himself in the corner,
Watching his life pass him by; the mourner,
His smile is broken,
Even when he is jokin’
He used to be glad,
Before he became melancholic and sad,
That was before he realized how it really is,
This is how they do it in the life biz,
Life’s not a fairy tale,
So I’m gonna raise my sad sail,
In my small boat,
In a storm without a coat,
I’m just a joke
I’ll just go smoke a tree like an average bloke,
Why should I try anyway?
I have to work three times as hard to get the same pay,
So why should I care?
I’m just the fat stupid teddy bear,
What are these visions of green lightning,
And blue dreams that are truly frightening,
What are they?
Who was really born on the thirtieth of May?
Will he burn the righteous with wood,
Or stand up for what is good,
He doesn’t know,
All he knows is teenage aggression and its makin’ him low,
He’s still a cripple,
He is still just as fickle,
But he’s angry,
And it won’t last,
Maybe they’ll hear with a violent gat blast…
Green Thunder
Shadows swirl,
Defeated angels curl,
Scholarly stagnation,
Trampled elation,
Creeping depression,
Growing obsession,
Pained rage,
Bloody page,
Imprisonment,
God sent?
Dreaming of the stars,
Visions of electric guitars,
There is no spoon,
There is no more room,
Mounting hate,
Second chances are too late,
Hanging crosses,
Tyrannical bosses,
Am I living my own burial?
Searching for Ariel
Crying to the Lord,
I’m the one with the worst hand on the board,
I’ve been this way for years,
I’ve put up with the evil spirits’ jeers,
I’m not sure how longer I can take this rejection,
Longing, staring at my ugly reflection,
I can hear the voices,
The ones on each shoulder at every one of my choices,
All crying DISORDER!
I’m stuck in isolated Mordor,
All I can hear is the methodic drumming,
I have to dance to that constant thrumming,
Even though I can’t move,
I got a God to prove,
Even through my doubts,
So I can save all the heathen louts,
So….you know what?
I’m not gonna waste my emotions on you and turn into a raving nut,
I despise you people,
Let others pray to you on your fair steeple,
I’ll let you fester,
I’m no longer gonna pester,
Staring at the gravestone,
Gazing at my illuminated monitor; in the dark; all alone,
What have I got to live for?
A chance to rise from my chains and soar?
But every time I glance at the Holy Grail,
I don’t really believe, and I fail,
I stare at the ground,
And wonder if I’ve truly been found,
Away from the populous,
Living in the gutters of Metropolis,
Looking for a way out,
Encircled by doubt,
What would I do if I found a gun?
Trust me…. that day at my school would not be fun,
Watch them go to the fair one and bow,
As they pray to their gods and give them a fattened cow,
All this pain bottled up,
Overflowing in life’s cup,
Don’t know where to go with my life and this poem,
Not in the in crowd; don’t even know any of them,
I can’t even by taken away from here; beamed,
Running down the mountain I have dreamed,
Anger at the world,
My flag of rage unfurled,
Righteousness tainted,
Blood upon the walls will be painted,
Then they’ll know how it is to be dead,
Lying all alone, unable to move from their bed,
I lie there by myself while listening to rap,
Stagnant in life’s sweat and crap,
Always getting the girls you don’t want,
While the ones you do just smile at you and taunt,
It’s not fair,
Watching all the pairs,
By yourself,
Watching the formerly empty window shelf,
If I gain a fortune,
They’ll be on me before the next June,
It doesn’t truly matter,
But everyone else is allowed to flatter,
Not the cripple,
Not the cripple,
He’s all by himself in the corner,
Watching his life pass him by; the mourner,
His smile is broken,
Even when he is jokin’
He used to be glad,
Before he became melancholic and sad,
That was before he realized how it really is,
This is how they do it in the life biz,
Life’s not a fairy tale,
So I’m gonna raise my sad sail,
In my small boat,
In a storm without a coat,
I’m just a joke
I’ll just go smoke a tree like an average bloke,
Why should I try anyway?
I have to work three times as hard to get the same pay,
So why should I care?
I’m just the fat stupid teddy bear,
What are these visions of green lightning,
And blue dreams that are truly frightening,
What are they?
Who was really born on the thirtieth of May?
Will he burn the righteous with wood,
Or stand up for what is good,
He doesn’t know,
All he knows is teenage aggression and its makin’ him low,
He’s still a cripple,
He is still just as fickle,
But he’s angry,
And it won’t last,
Maybe they’ll hear with a violent gat blast…
All Hallows Eve
Dear Bros,
Our creative writing teacher told us to write something about Halloween. So I did, this really reflects my mood...how I feel really stagnent and alone at school. Anyway, enjoy......
God Bless
elscribe
All Hallows Eve
Come, minions of the night,
Take from those who strive to do right,
Dance to your heathen gods,
While you prostrate yourselves on our holy sods,
Follow the path of wrong,
Follow the night and her seductive song,
Sing your devil chants,
Stab the clean knights with your dark lance,
Cast your spell,
Dig yourself into hell,
Let all the children come and learn,
How to rape, pillage, and burn,
Let then treat and trick,
While hellish flames lick,
Raise up a temple to Baal,
As bright leaves rapidly fall,
Shadows is all I see,
Haunting images of a dead and blackened tree,
No more light,
As you demons stalk through the night…
Our creative writing teacher told us to write something about Halloween. So I did, this really reflects my mood...how I feel really stagnent and alone at school. Anyway, enjoy......
God Bless
elscribe
All Hallows Eve
Come, minions of the night,
Take from those who strive to do right,
Dance to your heathen gods,
While you prostrate yourselves on our holy sods,
Follow the path of wrong,
Follow the night and her seductive song,
Sing your devil chants,
Stab the clean knights with your dark lance,
Cast your spell,
Dig yourself into hell,
Let all the children come and learn,
How to rape, pillage, and burn,
Let then treat and trick,
While hellish flames lick,
Raise up a temple to Baal,
As bright leaves rapidly fall,
Shadows is all I see,
Haunting images of a dead and blackened tree,
No more light,
As you demons stalk through the night…
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Older Poems (from like two months ago)
Riddle
Muddled
Befuddled
Unknown,
Not quite sown,
Confused,
Bemused,
Misunderstood,
Standing where nobody else would,
Alone,
No one to phone,
Respected,
Rejected….
Harvest
High school walls,
Rampant Sauls,
Battle commencing,
No more recompensing,
Morality skewed,
Redemption’s chance renewed,
Lucifer’s nest,
Demonic spirits infest,
Lines drawn,
Faith’s dawn,
Sides taken,
Holy words mistaken,
Dwindling good,
Burning wood,
Flags raised,
Idols praised,
Battleground,
Souls to be found…
Muddled
Befuddled
Unknown,
Not quite sown,
Confused,
Bemused,
Misunderstood,
Standing where nobody else would,
Alone,
No one to phone,
Respected,
Rejected….
Harvest
High school walls,
Rampant Sauls,
Battle commencing,
No more recompensing,
Morality skewed,
Redemption’s chance renewed,
Lucifer’s nest,
Demonic spirits infest,
Lines drawn,
Faith’s dawn,
Sides taken,
Holy words mistaken,
Dwindling good,
Burning wood,
Flags raised,
Idols praised,
Battleground,
Souls to be found…
The Ballad of Pan
The Ballad of Pan
Even though at times I can be sad,
You, Lord, come to me and lift my spirits so I am glad,
I worship your worthy name,
Now the beast within me is finally at rest; tame,
For I have much to praise you for,
Even though it may seem to me that I am constantly at war,
I remember what was said about a baby boy, who would probably fade away by the time he was five,
But because of you, he’s still here, very much alive,
I thank you for all the people I have around,
How when that boy was sick his mother’s prayers did resound,
Even when that boy was near the gate of the dead,
His mother’s loving lullabies were still being said,
While the statue watched,
While Lucifer’s plans were botched,
Peter Pan, made of rock, stood outside,
A memento of how his creator to the hospice tithed,
I am thankful that I have a shadow like Pan,
One who knows that in all my dreams I ran,
You, my shadow, will not leave even when my sins never stop being piled,
I pray to be like Peter, that rock, that immortal child,
When you call my name, like a kid, I want to giggle,
I want no portion of the adult cynic left to wiggle,
Truly only children can see your face,
For they are the epitome of this; our human race,
Set in my heart your rightful tent,
Let me no longer lament,
My shadows only one that I am beside,
Even when everything is screwed up; seeming to have died,
I pray for you to always love me,
That I may forever be like a child; on your warm knee,
I want to lean on your shepherd’s cane,
As I walk beside you along the truest lane…
Even though at times I can be sad,
You, Lord, come to me and lift my spirits so I am glad,
I worship your worthy name,
Now the beast within me is finally at rest; tame,
For I have much to praise you for,
Even though it may seem to me that I am constantly at war,
I remember what was said about a baby boy, who would probably fade away by the time he was five,
But because of you, he’s still here, very much alive,
I thank you for all the people I have around,
How when that boy was sick his mother’s prayers did resound,
Even when that boy was near the gate of the dead,
His mother’s loving lullabies were still being said,
While the statue watched,
While Lucifer’s plans were botched,
Peter Pan, made of rock, stood outside,
A memento of how his creator to the hospice tithed,
I am thankful that I have a shadow like Pan,
One who knows that in all my dreams I ran,
You, my shadow, will not leave even when my sins never stop being piled,
I pray to be like Peter, that rock, that immortal child,
When you call my name, like a kid, I want to giggle,
I want no portion of the adult cynic left to wiggle,
Truly only children can see your face,
For they are the epitome of this; our human race,
Set in my heart your rightful tent,
Let me no longer lament,
My shadows only one that I am beside,
Even when everything is screwed up; seeming to have died,
I pray for you to always love me,
That I may forever be like a child; on your warm knee,
I want to lean on your shepherd’s cane,
As I walk beside you along the truest lane…
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Jesus Burger
Dear Bros,
I was just reading John 6:35-47, where Jesus is telling some of the Jews about how he is the bread that fell from heaven. After reading this, God put this poem in my head, hope you guys enjoy it:
God Bless
elscribe
Jesus Burger
Jesus, you are the bread,
Your path is the one I choose to tread,
I want to lose myself in you,
I don’t want to be among those who are blue,
I want to dwell in your house,
Lying on your fuzzy lion’s back like a small mouse,
Like the shepherd king,
Among his sheep did sing,
Who played his melodious harp,
While gazing at the wondrous things you created; like the comically colorful carp,
He also had nobody to hear his psalms,
Your heavenly rye did come to him and bring calms,
You are the wheat that fell from heaven,
On my front porch as the clock struck seven,
I took a big bite of your spiritual nourishment,
As I realized that when I confessed my sins there would be no punishment,
After I realized that I had just gone to the drive-thru,
And had been birthed again; anew,
Picking up the Christ Mac,
I’m glad I don’t have to give any of my bucks back,
While the rest of the world is still gulping down their Gerber’s
I’ll be chomping on my Jesus Burger…
I was just reading John 6:35-47, where Jesus is telling some of the Jews about how he is the bread that fell from heaven. After reading this, God put this poem in my head, hope you guys enjoy it:
God Bless
elscribe
Jesus Burger
Jesus, you are the bread,
Your path is the one I choose to tread,
I want to lose myself in you,
I don’t want to be among those who are blue,
I want to dwell in your house,
Lying on your fuzzy lion’s back like a small mouse,
Like the shepherd king,
Among his sheep did sing,
Who played his melodious harp,
While gazing at the wondrous things you created; like the comically colorful carp,
He also had nobody to hear his psalms,
Your heavenly rye did come to him and bring calms,
You are the wheat that fell from heaven,
On my front porch as the clock struck seven,
I took a big bite of your spiritual nourishment,
As I realized that when I confessed my sins there would be no punishment,
After I realized that I had just gone to the drive-thru,
And had been birthed again; anew,
Picking up the Christ Mac,
I’m glad I don’t have to give any of my bucks back,
While the rest of the world is still gulping down their Gerber’s
I’ll be chomping on my Jesus Burger…
Monday, October 17, 2005
'Till Jesus Comes
‘Till Jesus Comes
Here I sit; broken hearted,
Came to play; the others all departed,
Shadows invade my corner and fester,
To others I am just a mere flea; one who will pester,
Sometimes my mind is filled with aggression,
I am caged in stifled progression,
I look through the bars,
Forced to bow to the beautifully clean tsars,
Far off in the distance I hear the drumbeat mounting,
Waiting for my day of budding; furiously counting,
I wake every morning,
To the sun’s early dawning,
I rest when the sky is red at night,
It is my; the psalmist’s delight,
I pray to the eternal,
For him to save me from the fiery infernal,
He hears my lonely lament,
He hears my cry for my faith in him to be like cement,
Not quite a Man,
Though not quite damned,
I sing a song happily,
Though slightly off key; and some will say quite crappily,
This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine,
For the love I see around me I will rhyme,
So, this little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine,
Let it shine,
Let it shine,
Let it shine,
‘Till Jesus Comes,
‘Till Jesus Comes,
‘Till Jesus Comes…
Here I sit; broken hearted,
Came to play; the others all departed,
Shadows invade my corner and fester,
To others I am just a mere flea; one who will pester,
Sometimes my mind is filled with aggression,
I am caged in stifled progression,
I look through the bars,
Forced to bow to the beautifully clean tsars,
Far off in the distance I hear the drumbeat mounting,
Waiting for my day of budding; furiously counting,
I wake every morning,
To the sun’s early dawning,
I rest when the sky is red at night,
It is my; the psalmist’s delight,
I pray to the eternal,
For him to save me from the fiery infernal,
He hears my lonely lament,
He hears my cry for my faith in him to be like cement,
Not quite a Man,
Though not quite damned,
I sing a song happily,
Though slightly off key; and some will say quite crappily,
This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine,
For the love I see around me I will rhyme,
So, this little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine,
Let it shine,
Let it shine,
Let it shine,
‘Till Jesus Comes,
‘Till Jesus Comes,
‘Till Jesus Comes…
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