-Mouse


::For Someone Special::I sit up at night, A smile on my face, I pick on you, I know its probably too much, But I laugh, And you laugh with me, Inspiring jokes, With no meaning, Two fools with not enough time, Missed you when you said goodbye, In your absence I remember the jokes, And I laugh, Speaking them outloud the crickets chrip, Not Funny, I laugh on.::For Someone Special::
Making up words I minipulate you, And in return you mock me, Its funny, I'm not the person everyone else sees to you, Nibbling on this peice of bread I worry, About stepping on your toes,


::Picture Of Time::A blood red hand upon a wall, A shadow bird in the fires grace, A carved branch with steels tip, A broken jar its contents decomposing. A faded picture in a crumbling walet, A memory long forgotten to be found, A burried figurine in a childs loose grip, A few pages fluttering in the breeze. A rusted golden crown, A fallen hut of mud and lava's fingers, A sunkin box of treasure.::Picture Of Time::
We hold these precious gifts so dear to our hearts, Yet when we fade, What will become of our memories?


WarriorYou thought you knew Who you could trust Then they crucified you. You're a rebel angel a warrior who lost the battle ever since your fall from grace You don't know where to turn.Warrior
Your halo is long tarnished Your wings only a memory But you are still a warrior Whatever else you may be
You live in the land of the sinners And you've become one yourself But that doesn't mean you're giving up On the world just yet
You are still the guardian That no one ever seems to see You protect the innocent A


The bells toll silently.A wretched song the siren sings to the wanning moon,The bells toll silently.
Evanescent be those things, that humans delude Disonate rapture finds a soul to bind In a singular case a fiend, hearts to brimstone Try their sighs, as is a theorem that is not worth believing
Evening grandeur amidst the lake, which sinks in eternity A sound a soul that awakes, a melody so fleeting Oppressions succumb to desolation to those of a wandering personage Dreams are purified through philosophies, written in idolised gold To dream of prosperity is divine, to dream of anathema is refined Amalgamation of joys and so


feelingsShe doesn’t know how I feel Tell her? Should I try? I can’t say she hates me, But I’m just another guy.feelings
I love her completely, I could love her to the end,
But I know that if I asked her She’d say I’m ‘just a friend’
But if we’re only friends, And that, I cannot say, Why does thinking about her, Make me feel this way?

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this is the end of the world as we know it...
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"By the end of the day, one shall stand and one shall fall." ~Optimus Prime
~RenoChant ~ Go to his page and check out his stuff!! He's awesome!
weirdness, everywhere
you go
welcome back and enjoy the holidays!
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its not too late to become what you were meant to be
Or you will be brutally slapped by a koala.
May the force be with you.
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its not too late to become what you were meant to be
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If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thru' narrow chinks of his cavern.
- William Blake
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