we've been risen
driven and discovered.
laced and shaken, worked and worn.
we have been inspired, beat, awoken and have become movement.
we need no pity, our hearts pure with pride,
we dance on.
we need no sympathy, our skies cry tears of a million stars.
we need no snow, we claim the sun as our friend.
'Pretty' she lies in all directions,
our blanket made of galaxies, our fiery rich soil, winds of bliss and water of life.
we've been risen, knocked down and risen again.
we've been taught the turmoils and the easy,
crime and the good
the purely intense and evil.
we've been mugged, imprisoned, set free!
we still ululate and rejoice the grace that is us,
the glory that is amongst us, in all our capacity.
the beauty imprinted in our skin.
that dwells in our smiles as we with nature.
we've been risen and signed our creed in the sky!
Gino Obuseng
Monday, November 17, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
i am
I am the light that could shed light upon a dead man heart.
I am the road less travelled, the fears never faced.
I am the dream, the stars rays.
The principal sustainer, the height reacher
I am the night crawler, but the fat worm consumer.
The light at the end of the tunnel, the joy at birth.
I am the church bell, joy and tears.
I am the radiance, I am the core.
I am the delight, I am the result
The cause and the cure.
I am the listener, I am the proclaimed
I am the truth, I am the chaser,
The liar and the light.
I am the prisoner, i am the judge
I am the casualty, I am the lucky
I am the lesson, pillow and the tears.
I am the eye…waiting.
I am realization.
I am time, I am death, a snail
I am force, I am purpose
I am jealousy, I am love
I am sanity, I am the edge, the pill, the ledge
I am the misunderstood, I am the confusing.
I am the haunted, I am the freed.
I am possessed, I am a laugh.
I am the dark, I am the common.
I am the shunned, the cherished, the destroyed, the preserved.
I am the will, I am the fall
I am the seed, I am the root
I am the suffering, I am the survived
I am the maze, I am the way
I am a cactus, the desert and the oasis.
I am the killer, I am the cell.
I am the reason, I am the question.
I am the guard, I am the thief
I am the informer, I am the capturer, I am the controlled and the wanted.
I am the sender, receiver and I am the messenger
I am the applicant, I am the approver and the officer
I am the loved, I am love and loving
I am the seeked, the forgotten and the final frontier
I am the taker, the gift and the giver.
I am the lost, I am whole
I am coincidence, i am the biggest!
I am surprise; i am the heartbeat and the disappointment.
I am the ultimate, i am the infinite
I am a woman.
Gino Obuseng
I am the road less travelled, the fears never faced.
I am the dream, the stars rays.
The principal sustainer, the height reacher
I am the night crawler, but the fat worm consumer.
The light at the end of the tunnel, the joy at birth.
I am the church bell, joy and tears.
I am the radiance, I am the core.
I am the delight, I am the result
The cause and the cure.
I am the listener, I am the proclaimed
I am the truth, I am the chaser,
The liar and the light.
I am the prisoner, i am the judge
I am the casualty, I am the lucky
I am the lesson, pillow and the tears.
I am the eye…waiting.
I am realization.
I am time, I am death, a snail
I am force, I am purpose
I am jealousy, I am love
I am sanity, I am the edge, the pill, the ledge
I am the misunderstood, I am the confusing.
I am the haunted, I am the freed.
I am possessed, I am a laugh.
I am the dark, I am the common.
I am the shunned, the cherished, the destroyed, the preserved.
I am the will, I am the fall
I am the seed, I am the root
I am the suffering, I am the survived
I am the maze, I am the way
I am a cactus, the desert and the oasis.
I am the killer, I am the cell.
I am the reason, I am the question.
I am the guard, I am the thief
I am the informer, I am the capturer, I am the controlled and the wanted.
I am the sender, receiver and I am the messenger
I am the applicant, I am the approver and the officer
I am the loved, I am love and loving
I am the seeked, the forgotten and the final frontier
I am the taker, the gift and the giver.
I am the lost, I am whole
I am coincidence, i am the biggest!
I am surprise; i am the heartbeat and the disappointment.
I am the ultimate, i am the infinite
I am a woman.
Gino Obuseng
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
its all in my head
i had a secret once, its no longer
my woman's self was a river of poison.
but before you get hooked on my venom and can't live without it....
i find it hard to trust
i get emotional and sometimes lose control,
just would love to know the tune of your soul.
if at all you believe my yearns are for only those quivers that possess me, i don't mind as long as you keep reaching for me in the dark.
i drift off sometimes in wonder of the paths you've been down, the flowers you've picked and gardens you've laid.
but only in the wake of my dreams of leaving a mark that will last a lover's lifetime.
i'm down for you...
down on me...i like it.
your pride, talented,
my joy, share with me.
you brought her out,
rid darkness, birthed this
hungry, young...
tell her, let it slide down your tongue.
some say reassurance, i say the blocks you build with words, around my security, that lead up to where you pushed my boundaries up into the air, to a limitless sky. i need them...
don't concern yourself with the jokes my jesters make,
i can only share the shallow.
what is us is ours.
you never have to look far for me.
its just that sometimes the road to you seems so unfamiliar.
where are you?
my confusion only comes into question 'coz i'm so convinced.
i'm still here with you...
Gino Obuseng
my woman's self was a river of poison.
but before you get hooked on my venom and can't live without it....
i find it hard to trust
i get emotional and sometimes lose control,
just would love to know the tune of your soul.
if at all you believe my yearns are for only those quivers that possess me, i don't mind as long as you keep reaching for me in the dark.
i drift off sometimes in wonder of the paths you've been down, the flowers you've picked and gardens you've laid.
but only in the wake of my dreams of leaving a mark that will last a lover's lifetime.
i'm down for you...
down on me...i like it.
your pride, talented,
my joy, share with me.
you brought her out,
rid darkness, birthed this
hungry, young...
tell her, let it slide down your tongue.
some say reassurance, i say the blocks you build with words, around my security, that lead up to where you pushed my boundaries up into the air, to a limitless sky. i need them...
don't concern yourself with the jokes my jesters make,
i can only share the shallow.
what is us is ours.
you never have to look far for me.
its just that sometimes the road to you seems so unfamiliar.
where are you?
my confusion only comes into question 'coz i'm so convinced.
i'm still here with you...
Gino Obuseng
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
gridlock'd
i move along this traffic, lights, pollution, expressionless strangers.
running for that oasis that heals all, for cleansing, indenting.
i race.
not so much to win, but to save oneself.
this pile up of anxiety, of fresh, new beginnings, of unknowings, of next.
now what?
i move along this traffic, not so much making friends but finding comfort, taking notes. helping those all ran out, guiding the ones just began.
i race.
hoping to fix a last heartbreak.
running for that oasis that heals all, for cleansing, indenting.
i race.
not so much to win, but to save oneself.
this pile up of anxiety, of fresh, new beginnings, of unknowings, of next.
now what?
i move along this traffic, not so much making friends but finding comfort, taking notes. helping those all ran out, guiding the ones just began.
i race.
hoping to fix a last heartbreak.
like smoke
i'm like steam,
reacted, converted, forced into this state by my world.
forced to find a home in this tainted air.
dragged deep within for the sole purpose to reach every corner, contaminate, spread and feast.
with you my breathe cuts short.
not so much lubrication as it was absorbtion.
i hear without me your heart beats regularly.
but if it ever happens that the constant and predictable are too mundane
that the purity in my lungs and dryness of my skin, i start to chap away.
light me up.
reacted, converted, forced into this state by my world.
forced to find a home in this tainted air.
dragged deep within for the sole purpose to reach every corner, contaminate, spread and feast.
with you my breathe cuts short.
not so much lubrication as it was absorbtion.
i hear without me your heart beats regularly.
but if it ever happens that the constant and predictable are too mundane
that the purity in my lungs and dryness of my skin, i start to chap away.
light me up.
Monday, June 9, 2008
US! (conference IM)
laone: blindness overtakes me, darkness inavedes me. i am lost without my pen. without life
v.rant: my pen droping ink, leaving marks that heals.. what i write is what i feel
gino: what i remember, what i know. what takes over me what i dream.
laone : but i wonder if its real, is the dream the reality, or the reality a dream.
laone : is there sense in this, or anything else in the world. its all an illusion, but then again, wht isn't?
v.rant: the pain that overpowers me... my words are the reflection of the social ills i see..
v.rant: its the voice within
gino: my words play in both dream n reality. would it matter. and as i lay these bits down, i hope that the ills that have contaminated me are shed.
gino: i write for dear life
laone: i write for now, for tommorrow, for enterntiy. i right for this bleeding heart, this raptured soul
v.rant: i write for freedom..i write for me..i write to stop the hurt
gino: i write to document. i write to stop from screaming. letting what i write to sign on this contract of life what i have seen n felt
gino: i write to prevent the tears from drowning me.
laone: then to which i have clung so dearly nd kissed to lovingly. i write not in my selflessness, but completly drowned in my selfisness.
laone: to free myself, express myself. reddem myse;f
laone: redeem*
v.rant: sometimes the lil voices in my head are hard to get..its like they are speaking spanish............ thats why when i pen down my words down they sound gabbage
v.rant: i write to reedem my self... god only knws the pain i felt in my sleep i have yelled but my soul is still lost
gino: i write as i fall to the ground, foreginly on my knees hoping it a prayer. i write so that when my heart reaquaints itslef with my past i have an army. i write in the dark. i write the stories of this scar
laone: tht burns my face. its clear in the dark, for even then it burns my soul. this scar of wounds long healed, of a war long ended, time long gone
v.rant: hope long lost..by far my existance have only been a budden my voice has not been clear..it has been embeded... my path bended yet again again i leave footprints cloured in red in this life i am as good as dead
gino: i fight life in this world that lives me, i can hear the cries, blow in the wind. these footprints will fade, erode as everything does in form, leaving me lost, empty in pain
laone: yet i must prevail, i must tredge on. i must...if only to fail, still i must
laone: i will drag my crimson feet, my blood stained hands. i'll hold in this once beautiful hands those dreams tht still live inside this broken excuse for a bosy
laone: i must prevail, i must tredge on. i must...if only to fail, still i must
v.rant: still yet...trouble cnt leave me alone...day in n day out my strength is fading
v.rant: i am a lost hope indeed
gino: i sit and watch, weak and weakening. hoping that i dont waste away as the pain does, as the clock ticks on.
laone : the war rages on. if not on the field, then in this head, where all remains vivid, even though the body is frail
laone: nd wht was left of the trail, has long been carried by the currents
a_death has joined the conference.
v.rant: my english teacher once gave men a pen and a paper..... 3 days later i peened my 1st words and i could not feel any beter...and now its my pill....i write to stop the chills.. i write to gain strenght... i write for fresh breath
group.
a_death: ah the soul bleeds fresh inl up these fields
a_death: ink*
a_death: ah the soul bleeds fresh ink upon these fields
a_death: *typo queen*
gino: not only does it free me, it invades me, control me. i need no appaulse n praises. i write to prevent, i write for evidence i write to warn.
laone: write to be free, so tht i n these words, on these pages i may take flight. tht i may hide. tht i may flee
a_death: to warn who do you wirte? pretty ink has rarly moved stubborn heart
a_death: s
v.rant: yes indeed...i write to let loose the tension in me... to take out the rage within
a_death: to what purpose? to what end? the rage and fire, the eternal burning of a soul too tormented my thoughts, when expressed are nothing more than screems in a thunderstorm...not an ear is turned
a_death: and not a heart is moved
a_death: i am alone in my torment
a_death: watching the world through dull glass
gino: this book that i carry with me, my eyes being just 'in between all lines, i do not have the key to the lock. this book that i praise has all my pains, my thoughts. me alone. this book i follow, this book i hide. this book of my death, it is my refuge, my lair, my shrine, my friend
v.rant: life moving very slow..yet the sorow invades me very fast.... i am dead but i can heart my heart beat... just then thats when i open this book within..... for the whole world to read
laone: my confidate, it is also my enemy. for i read back nd i see hw it has refused to forget tht which i tried so hrd to erase. it has clung to it, it has held it still, as if to treasure tht pain from which i ran
a_death: and read they do, from page to page, yet in minds clouded by the here and now they do not grasp the truth, and in silence i see thier confusion
gino: i need no sympathy. i need no help now. i was alone pulling on that 1 page, hoping to erase it.burn it from my mind
laone: nd yet there it is. sme place it was before
laone: did i not shred it to bits, burn it and scatter the ashes, or was it all in my head
gino: marked with the same tears
a_death: a book is a cold bedfellow when the world's sharp teeth claw at the fagile bits of tender flesh in the mind. A cold bedfellow indeed
v.rant: my heart is heavy leden... its like whole world is hanging on me
a_death: my heart is long gone sacrificed to a deamon that promised me nothing, and nothing is what i recived and this cold cavety with in me throbs for the feelings that i no longer have.
gino: but i think, when was a drug, a possession a mild confusion of rage to have to.....re write my name, my heart's progression been warm?
gino: i only have this book, this pad, this pen...
laone: all it was, all it ever will be is a mild escape, a cold freezing of the mind and all it power
v.rant: if only people can see the world within my eyes.... and see the lies it hides.. the pain insides
laone: but this book, it strengthens me, it nourtures me, it quenches bfre i thirst
gino: im afraid no one will see, im small inside. wasting away
a_death: Truth changes nothing, pain is a fact of life, should a heart crippled by pain halt in beat? nay, a poet cannot change the world, pain cannot change the world
a_death: only death can
v.rant: so thats why i let my pain out through my pen...so it could be felt... hope is it can alter the world..b4 we all fade
gino: i live, love and write. i become nothing, say nothing, ieel everything. no one can save me from my life
a_death: once again...this book, this chared, bloody, broken book, can no more change the world than a rose bud, observed for its beauty, for its throns...but nothing more, nothing more after that
laone : no one, nd none understands teh gravity of this pain, the weight of such a measure. no one, but this book
gino: it can only ever change me, darkening the rings around my eyes, shrugging my shoulders
gino: they all just see the reaction and not the pain
a_death: this poetry, this book that you claim, is no more than a deaf singer in the cornerstone of an empty street, belting out songs in a language that no one hears and a pitch that cannot exist in reality.Reality is the ultimate end of this book....its resting place
a_death: life is the death of art
laone: if ever i neededrefuge i have sought nd found it in this book.throu it i hv wept, i hv sung, i hv lied nd now i weep
laone: at the loss of this book, to think it dead, when it , nd only it evr b mine companion
gino: hoping to one night sleep, but only n if this pen rests
v.rant: atlist the book is my only solace.... the friend i always needed
a_death: i had a book once, a large book, leather in skin and gold edged, my soul, my heart my full pain filled it to the bim, open its cover and bitter, bitter brew spills out. In a fit of madness i shared it with one, and in disregard it was thrown away, like rubbish on the streat. I have never touched it again, and i doubt i ever will. writing it was a pain that was tinged with pleasure, losing it was madness
laone: nd yet bcoz of those wretched pages, it is alo my enemy
a_death: i fear this book
gino: this book could lessen the headache, stop that 1 fight, mould HIm to life, create that job and write that letter. this book could clone me.
laone : i loathe thsi book
gino: against my will i would stand in front of a mirror, reflecting this reflection
laone: for i change, nd i groww, nd i learnt to forgive ng forget. but it holds fast to those truths i'ld rather ignore
laone: the ones i'ld rather call lies
gino: these truth i hold in my hands. those whispered promises u see through my eyes
a_death: the truths that have made me what i am today
a_death: but are tempted still to shatter me to dust in the wind
laone: this book. its pages are crimsom in my hands, it bleeds onto me. though it be white, i see blood on its pages
gino: this book i hold is cold, old..falling apart, used
v.rant: it is my past and my present..
a_death: it is my damnation
gino: my death and my fall
a_death: my love and rise
v.rant: my struggle and my victories
gino: cure and my will
laone: my praise
a_death: my shame
gino: my pride
laone: my doubts
v.rant: my pain
a_death: my end
gino the questions, and the answers to my calls
a_death: the song that deffens me to the world
gino: the beat that wakes me from my sleep
laone : my beginnin. a voice i nver had, but wth wch i spoke evr so eloquently
v.rant: the needle that pirces me
a_death: the shackle that holds me
laone: the thred tht binds thris broken soul;
gino: the prison of my walls and the crime
a_death: the line between me and the world
a_death: lies in this book
v.rant: the line between love and hate
gino: on top of me, beneath me, around me..shielding me, pulling me, dragging me and throwing me
laone yet it thretens to brek
a_death: yet it never does
a_death: at times i wish it would
laone: to lead me out there
gino: i jumped thru a crack i found once
laone: to the world i fear so musch, though i hrldy knw
v.rant: i stpo and stare...and wish i am not there
laone: nd there i found bliss, jus for a moment i did
a_death: only to lead to more pain
gino: i fell thru, that light ahead, always ahead
gino: surrounded by all the seasons and climate sthat passed over my fields
gino: it wasnt any different out there
gino: i pain on.
gino: as i pen on
v.rant: you knw when they say there is a lite @ the end of the turnnel well my tunnel seems endless
laone: but the sun was more harsh
a_death: one touch, one touch is all i need...just one moment it time, where i lie in arms that could never lie. just to end this pain...one moment is all i need.
laone : it burnt my skin, and scorched my throt.
laone : but it cld nvr touch my pen
laone vanvuuren: not this one tht holds my voice in its blood. NEVER!
gino999: i lay on my back, my world up side down, standing on that 1 star i made a wish on so long ago.
a_death: hearing voices of loved ones long dead
gino: i rememebr, i rememeber everything
gino: i see you all..diluting the salt in the water of eyes.
laone: i remmebr it so clearly, i almost cld swear
v.rant: my pen droping ink, leaving marks that heals.. what i write is what i feel
gino: what i remember, what i know. what takes over me what i dream.
laone : but i wonder if its real, is the dream the reality, or the reality a dream.
laone : is there sense in this, or anything else in the world. its all an illusion, but then again, wht isn't?
v.rant: the pain that overpowers me... my words are the reflection of the social ills i see..
v.rant: its the voice within
gino: my words play in both dream n reality. would it matter. and as i lay these bits down, i hope that the ills that have contaminated me are shed.
gino: i write for dear life
laone: i write for now, for tommorrow, for enterntiy. i right for this bleeding heart, this raptured soul
v.rant: i write for freedom..i write for me..i write to stop the hurt
gino: i write to document. i write to stop from screaming. letting what i write to sign on this contract of life what i have seen n felt
gino: i write to prevent the tears from drowning me.
laone: then to which i have clung so dearly nd kissed to lovingly. i write not in my selflessness, but completly drowned in my selfisness.
laone: to free myself, express myself. reddem myse;f
laone: redeem*
v.rant: sometimes the lil voices in my head are hard to get..its like they are speaking spanish............ thats why when i pen down my words down they sound gabbage
v.rant: i write to reedem my self... god only knws the pain i felt in my sleep i have yelled but my soul is still lost
gino: i write as i fall to the ground, foreginly on my knees hoping it a prayer. i write so that when my heart reaquaints itslef with my past i have an army. i write in the dark. i write the stories of this scar
laone: tht burns my face. its clear in the dark, for even then it burns my soul. this scar of wounds long healed, of a war long ended, time long gone
v.rant: hope long lost..by far my existance have only been a budden my voice has not been clear..it has been embeded... my path bended yet again again i leave footprints cloured in red in this life i am as good as dead
gino: i fight life in this world that lives me, i can hear the cries, blow in the wind. these footprints will fade, erode as everything does in form, leaving me lost, empty in pain
laone: yet i must prevail, i must tredge on. i must...if only to fail, still i must
laone: i will drag my crimson feet, my blood stained hands. i'll hold in this once beautiful hands those dreams tht still live inside this broken excuse for a bosy
laone: i must prevail, i must tredge on. i must...if only to fail, still i must
v.rant: still yet...trouble cnt leave me alone...day in n day out my strength is fading
v.rant: i am a lost hope indeed
gino: i sit and watch, weak and weakening. hoping that i dont waste away as the pain does, as the clock ticks on.
laone : the war rages on. if not on the field, then in this head, where all remains vivid, even though the body is frail
laone: nd wht was left of the trail, has long been carried by the currents
a_death has joined the conference.
v.rant: my english teacher once gave men a pen and a paper..... 3 days later i peened my 1st words and i could not feel any beter...and now its my pill....i write to stop the chills.. i write to gain strenght... i write for fresh breath
group.
a_death: ah the soul bleeds fresh inl up these fields
a_death: ink*
a_death: ah the soul bleeds fresh ink upon these fields
a_death: *typo queen*
gino: not only does it free me, it invades me, control me. i need no appaulse n praises. i write to prevent, i write for evidence i write to warn.
laone: write to be free, so tht i n these words, on these pages i may take flight. tht i may hide. tht i may flee
a_death: to warn who do you wirte? pretty ink has rarly moved stubborn heart
a_death: s
v.rant: yes indeed...i write to let loose the tension in me... to take out the rage within
a_death: to what purpose? to what end? the rage and fire, the eternal burning of a soul too tormented my thoughts, when expressed are nothing more than screems in a thunderstorm...not an ear is turned
a_death: and not a heart is moved
a_death: i am alone in my torment
a_death: watching the world through dull glass
gino: this book that i carry with me, my eyes being just 'in between all lines, i do not have the key to the lock. this book that i praise has all my pains, my thoughts. me alone. this book i follow, this book i hide. this book of my death, it is my refuge, my lair, my shrine, my friend
v.rant: life moving very slow..yet the sorow invades me very fast.... i am dead but i can heart my heart beat... just then thats when i open this book within..... for the whole world to read
laone: my confidate, it is also my enemy. for i read back nd i see hw it has refused to forget tht which i tried so hrd to erase. it has clung to it, it has held it still, as if to treasure tht pain from which i ran
a_death: and read they do, from page to page, yet in minds clouded by the here and now they do not grasp the truth, and in silence i see thier confusion
gino: i need no sympathy. i need no help now. i was alone pulling on that 1 page, hoping to erase it.burn it from my mind
laone: nd yet there it is. sme place it was before
laone: did i not shred it to bits, burn it and scatter the ashes, or was it all in my head
gino: marked with the same tears
a_death: a book is a cold bedfellow when the world's sharp teeth claw at the fagile bits of tender flesh in the mind. A cold bedfellow indeed
v.rant: my heart is heavy leden... its like whole world is hanging on me
a_death: my heart is long gone sacrificed to a deamon that promised me nothing, and nothing is what i recived and this cold cavety with in me throbs for the feelings that i no longer have.
gino: but i think, when was a drug, a possession a mild confusion of rage to have to.....re write my name, my heart's progression been warm?
gino: i only have this book, this pad, this pen...
laone: all it was, all it ever will be is a mild escape, a cold freezing of the mind and all it power
v.rant: if only people can see the world within my eyes.... and see the lies it hides.. the pain insides
laone: but this book, it strengthens me, it nourtures me, it quenches bfre i thirst
gino: im afraid no one will see, im small inside. wasting away
a_death: Truth changes nothing, pain is a fact of life, should a heart crippled by pain halt in beat? nay, a poet cannot change the world, pain cannot change the world
a_death: only death can
v.rant: so thats why i let my pain out through my pen...so it could be felt... hope is it can alter the world..b4 we all fade
gino: i live, love and write. i become nothing, say nothing, ieel everything. no one can save me from my life
a_death: once again...this book, this chared, bloody, broken book, can no more change the world than a rose bud, observed for its beauty, for its throns...but nothing more, nothing more after that
laone : no one, nd none understands teh gravity of this pain, the weight of such a measure. no one, but this book
gino: it can only ever change me, darkening the rings around my eyes, shrugging my shoulders
gino: they all just see the reaction and not the pain
a_death: this poetry, this book that you claim, is no more than a deaf singer in the cornerstone of an empty street, belting out songs in a language that no one hears and a pitch that cannot exist in reality.Reality is the ultimate end of this book....its resting place
a_death: life is the death of art
laone: if ever i neededrefuge i have sought nd found it in this book.throu it i hv wept, i hv sung, i hv lied nd now i weep
laone: at the loss of this book, to think it dead, when it , nd only it evr b mine companion
gino: hoping to one night sleep, but only n if this pen rests
v.rant: atlist the book is my only solace.... the friend i always needed
a_death: i had a book once, a large book, leather in skin and gold edged, my soul, my heart my full pain filled it to the bim, open its cover and bitter, bitter brew spills out. In a fit of madness i shared it with one, and in disregard it was thrown away, like rubbish on the streat. I have never touched it again, and i doubt i ever will. writing it was a pain that was tinged with pleasure, losing it was madness
laone: nd yet bcoz of those wretched pages, it is alo my enemy
a_death: i fear this book
gino: this book could lessen the headache, stop that 1 fight, mould HIm to life, create that job and write that letter. this book could clone me.
laone : i loathe thsi book
gino: against my will i would stand in front of a mirror, reflecting this reflection
laone: for i change, nd i groww, nd i learnt to forgive ng forget. but it holds fast to those truths i'ld rather ignore
laone: the ones i'ld rather call lies
gino: these truth i hold in my hands. those whispered promises u see through my eyes
a_death: the truths that have made me what i am today
a_death: but are tempted still to shatter me to dust in the wind
laone: this book. its pages are crimsom in my hands, it bleeds onto me. though it be white, i see blood on its pages
gino: this book i hold is cold, old..falling apart, used
v.rant: it is my past and my present..
a_death: it is my damnation
gino: my death and my fall
a_death: my love and rise
v.rant: my struggle and my victories
gino: cure and my will
laone: my praise
a_death: my shame
gino: my pride
laone: my doubts
v.rant: my pain
a_death: my end
gino the questions, and the answers to my calls
a_death: the song that deffens me to the world
gino: the beat that wakes me from my sleep
laone : my beginnin. a voice i nver had, but wth wch i spoke evr so eloquently
v.rant: the needle that pirces me
a_death: the shackle that holds me
laone: the thred tht binds thris broken soul;
gino: the prison of my walls and the crime
a_death: the line between me and the world
a_death: lies in this book
v.rant: the line between love and hate
gino: on top of me, beneath me, around me..shielding me, pulling me, dragging me and throwing me
laone yet it thretens to brek
a_death: yet it never does
a_death: at times i wish it would
laone: to lead me out there
gino: i jumped thru a crack i found once
laone: to the world i fear so musch, though i hrldy knw
v.rant: i stpo and stare...and wish i am not there
laone: nd there i found bliss, jus for a moment i did
a_death: only to lead to more pain
gino: i fell thru, that light ahead, always ahead
gino: surrounded by all the seasons and climate sthat passed over my fields
gino: it wasnt any different out there
gino: i pain on.
gino: as i pen on
v.rant: you knw when they say there is a lite @ the end of the turnnel well my tunnel seems endless
laone: but the sun was more harsh
a_death: one touch, one touch is all i need...just one moment it time, where i lie in arms that could never lie. just to end this pain...one moment is all i need.
laone : it burnt my skin, and scorched my throt.
laone : but it cld nvr touch my pen
laone vanvuuren: not this one tht holds my voice in its blood. NEVER!
gino999: i lay on my back, my world up side down, standing on that 1 star i made a wish on so long ago.
a_death: hearing voices of loved ones long dead
gino: i rememebr, i rememeber everything
gino: i see you all..diluting the salt in the water of eyes.
laone: i remmebr it so clearly, i almost cld swear
me, him...
laone: her breathe is fresh against my neck, her smell lingers on. is it so, or is it all in my head?
laone: in my head, its still real. her firm tits, her soft skin. this is all an illusion
iaone: its sad in this life, i feel like and intruder
laone: even in my own skin, i feel like a stranger
gino: does it have to rhyme
laone: nope
laone: it doesnt even have to make sense
gino: even the tears rolling down my cheeks don't wet the pillow,my laughter sounds foreign.
gino: i even question if my view is the same out this window
laone: its all strange, the trees, the ppl. even the stray cats
laone: i hate it, yet i fell...solitude
laone: feel*!
gino: this strangeness, unacquainted feeling has me adrift, looking from above into myself
laone: as if i were another and not myself. as if i were borrowed, but then. ws i ever not?
gino: i wonder if i jumped would i bounce right back, could i freeze time in this life of make belief the mirror in front of me is a master piece. it perfectly reflects my scars
laone: and the blemish power works wonderfully. ita ccentuate every one of them. they dance on teh mirror. i can even hear their voices
gino: their stories.
laone: their lies
gino: their punishments and their pain
laone: is all, allegedly for teh common gain.
laone: takin 1 for the team tehy call it
gino: for the anguish of silence, to try and forget
laone: but i dnt wanna forget. for if i forget, i may nver hav anthn quiet like this
laone: wch is all i hav
laone: in my head, its still real. her firm tits, her soft skin. this is all an illusion
iaone: its sad in this life, i feel like and intruder
laone: even in my own skin, i feel like a stranger
gino: does it have to rhyme
laone: nope
laone: it doesnt even have to make sense
gino: even the tears rolling down my cheeks don't wet the pillow,my laughter sounds foreign.
gino: i even question if my view is the same out this window
laone: its all strange, the trees, the ppl. even the stray cats
laone: i hate it, yet i fell...solitude
laone: feel*!
gino: this strangeness, unacquainted feeling has me adrift, looking from above into myself
laone: as if i were another and not myself. as if i were borrowed, but then. ws i ever not?
gino: i wonder if i jumped would i bounce right back, could i freeze time in this life of make belief the mirror in front of me is a master piece. it perfectly reflects my scars
laone: and the blemish power works wonderfully. ita ccentuate every one of them. they dance on teh mirror. i can even hear their voices
gino: their stories.
laone: their lies
gino: their punishments and their pain
laone: is all, allegedly for teh common gain.
laone: takin 1 for the team tehy call it
gino: for the anguish of silence, to try and forget
laone: but i dnt wanna forget. for if i forget, i may nver hav anthn quiet like this
laone: wch is all i hav
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