When in the journey to far off lands,
A mountain perchance lies in my way,
Undertake I not to move it from my path,
Nor cry I to the midday sun, 'Tremble or do fear my wrath!'
For mountains gazing up to silent skies do fade,
Whittled down by time or nature's will,
And to me seems reckless impudence,
To move that monument to ages past,
Who did look on kings and conquerors as they stood astride the world,
And watched when they fell as humans always do,
And as the sand eroded away their names from the gravestones,
The mountain said nothing but stood still,
To move that mountain who does outlast our lives seems careless,
Like playing
Burgeon, spring forth, with the vigor of changing day,
To cast off the oppressive shackles of past years,
To live in a world of color and not of gray,
A rebirth of life, free from medieval fears,
Brave explorers set sail into the setting sun,
With brush in hand, to repaint the landscape of dreams,
The outdated and dark ways we enlightened shun,
This innovation tears the world at the seems,
Old wisdom penetrates to learning now,
Teachings of the wiser ancient world enlighten,
No longer blindly before ignorance block,
How fast our sciences grow, to some does frighten,
Some retribution does on learners fall,
But more come forward to
At what price comes our industry, the progress cost?
Wealth it may have brought, prosperity to some,
Was it worth the price paid, the innocence lost?
Children hopeful that to the factories did come,
Life changed forever, to that simpler time we can't,
Return or turn back, the future tramples on,
Despite the artist's fear, the preacher's angry rant,
The way it was is past, some things forever gone,
Tomorrow's children to the mills, ground down to dust,
Cities built on dying land, pray, think not of it,
Greed will not let the slaving machines turn to rust,
So it does destroy our serene world bit by bit,
This cruel destruction, we ca
Old wisdom tells that happiness comes from inside,
They answered not this question that does haunt my mind,
In which places does more human joyfulness hide?
Around the world I travel, the answers to find,
In poor Moldova, happiness is out of reach,
And in rich Quatar, they prove the old adage wrong,
In Bhutan, happiness is what the king does preach,
In Holland, source is liberty, free as bird song,
For happy Thailand, joy is a smile away,
For mystic India, enlightenment is key,
In old, stoic Britain, do be glad, come what may,
In proud America, be all that you can be,
In my long journey, what I learned is this,
Find your truth, y
To cut off the heads of those who oppose and hope,
From this bloody creation, good will spring forth,
Equality when their oppressing heads we lope,
Is foolish, our moral compass, it points not north,
The blood does flow more free than water despite,
That no flower grows on innocent, taken life,
This cruelty came disguised as avenging right,
From needless killing only grows discordant strife,
Thus does murder keep its grasp on our country fair,
With death crowned secret as our revolution's king,
Who leads our trusting people to the monster's lair,
And the unknowing citizens, its praises sing,
Virtue was not in the system of old,
I
Clotho spins life, her sister does measure it out,
And relentless Atropos cuts warm breath away,
So choose well your path, young girl, wisely guide his route,
Let him not sail back into revolution's bay,
Chaos waits for him there, stained red in blood and wine,
With prisoners freed to imprison still more,
The golden thread of light does still unbroken shine,
Not there, fear does pierce humanity to the core,
Madame the guillotine reigns terror in soul,
Grim revenge does stalk the bloody city roads,
For pure innocence, the funeral bell does toll,
Misery loves company, bad fortune bodes,
For one to live on, another must die,
So bala
Heavens, wash away this tainting blood from my hand,
Let this my heart ring free, unchained from dismay,
Such butchery was not done under my command,
Murder of our sovereign, oh take this guilt away!
My harsh word was only to his unspoken wish,
No action drawn from him that was not secret want,
The world was ours, served on a silver dish,
So why then at me does old, dead King Duncan haunt?
Though queen, I fear he my husband speaks to me not,
Entrapped in webs of his own spinning, that went sour,
And yet on me they blame our Scotland's moral rot,
Now these instruments for blood I shall scour,
And if in my mind remains fearful doubt
Fate sealed when first spark of life caught in it,
Fanned dormant soul into a fiery blaze,
Accursed fortune bound and eternal writ,
Old and beloved joy now viewed through shadowy haze,
Not nature's child, sprung from earth's fertile womb,
Neither man or beast, no other under the sun,
Born to consign beauty to her dank, dark tomb,
From this damned being, humanity did run,
Dread, fear and revulsion, when confronted with him,
Melody ceased when approached by this sight,
Some to tear the unnatural limb from freakish limb,
Even cruel creator swore to erase this blight,
Think now, ye listener, the stakes are high,
Be he not as human a
Don't you know they pull your strings,
And make you say their words,
And dance their dances,
Not under your own power?
Don't you know they opened you up and put a wallet where your heart should be,
Don't you see the scars,
Tearing family asunder?
All about you,
Spotlight on your life,
There's more to life than rock 'n roll,
And sex and drugs and beauty,
More than glamor or wealth,
They cut you open, stitched your dreams into greed,
Then closed you up and pretended there was no change,
That you weren't just a shell,
Patched together from their manipulations,
Unfazed and inhuman, and yet terribly so,
You're a monster,
A patchw
Can't you hear my screaming?
Can't you see my fears?
So real to me, but not even in your head,
What do you know?
With your naive giggles and gossips,
When do tears cross your mind?
You've been living in a glistening cage,
A pretty pet on display,
With everything you want,
Perfection in your grasp,
Friends, family, what do you know of loss?
In your bubble the world is gilded with a golden gloss,
And disaster doesn't touch,
No tornadoes or hurricanes to shake you up,
Half full, half empty, yours overflows,
You don't even notice,
But other watch with parched throats,
And wish for the dripping excesses of your joy,
So wake up, p
When in the journey to far off lands,
A mountain perchance lies in my way,
Undertake I not to move it from my path,
Nor cry I to the midday sun, 'Tremble or do fear my wrath!'
For mountains gazing up to silent skies do fade,
Whittled down by time or nature's will,
And to me seems reckless impudence,
To move that monument to ages past,
Who did look on kings and conquerors as they stood astride the world,
And watched when they fell as humans always do,
And as the sand eroded away their names from the gravestones,
The mountain said nothing but stood still,
To move that mountain who does outlast our lives seems careless,
Like playing
Burgeon, spring forth, with the vigor of changing day,
To cast off the oppressive shackles of past years,
To live in a world of color and not of gray,
A rebirth of life, free from medieval fears,
Brave explorers set sail into the setting sun,
With brush in hand, to repaint the landscape of dreams,
The outdated and dark ways we enlightened shun,
This innovation tears the world at the seems,
Old wisdom penetrates to learning now,
Teachings of the wiser ancient world enlighten,
No longer blindly before ignorance block,
How fast our sciences grow, to some does frighten,
Some retribution does on learners fall,
But more come forward to
At what price comes our industry, the progress cost?
Wealth it may have brought, prosperity to some,
Was it worth the price paid, the innocence lost?
Children hopeful that to the factories did come,
Life changed forever, to that simpler time we can't,
Return or turn back, the future tramples on,
Despite the artist's fear, the preacher's angry rant,
The way it was is past, some things forever gone,
Tomorrow's children to the mills, ground down to dust,
Cities built on dying land, pray, think not of it,
Greed will not let the slaving machines turn to rust,
So it does destroy our serene world bit by bit,
This cruel destruction, we ca
Old wisdom tells that happiness comes from inside,
They answered not this question that does haunt my mind,
In which places does more human joyfulness hide?
Around the world I travel, the answers to find,
In poor Moldova, happiness is out of reach,
And in rich Quatar, they prove the old adage wrong,
In Bhutan, happiness is what the king does preach,
In Holland, source is liberty, free as bird song,
For happy Thailand, joy is a smile away,
For mystic India, enlightenment is key,
In old, stoic Britain, do be glad, come what may,
In proud America, be all that you can be,
In my long journey, what I learned is this,
Find your truth, y
To cut off the heads of those who oppose and hope,
From this bloody creation, good will spring forth,
Equality when their oppressing heads we lope,
Is foolish, our moral compass, it points not north,
The blood does flow more free than water despite,
That no flower grows on innocent, taken life,
This cruelty came disguised as avenging right,
From needless killing only grows discordant strife,
Thus does murder keep its grasp on our country fair,
With death crowned secret as our revolution's king,
Who leads our trusting people to the monster's lair,
And the unknowing citizens, its praises sing,
Virtue was not in the system of old,
I
Clotho spins life, her sister does measure it out,
And relentless Atropos cuts warm breath away,
So choose well your path, young girl, wisely guide his route,
Let him not sail back into revolution's bay,
Chaos waits for him there, stained red in blood and wine,
With prisoners freed to imprison still more,
The golden thread of light does still unbroken shine,
Not there, fear does pierce humanity to the core,
Madame the guillotine reigns terror in soul,
Grim revenge does stalk the bloody city roads,
For pure innocence, the funeral bell does toll,
Misery loves company, bad fortune bodes,
For one to live on, another must die,
So bala
Heavens, wash away this tainting blood from my hand,
Let this my heart ring free, unchained from dismay,
Such butchery was not done under my command,
Murder of our sovereign, oh take this guilt away!
My harsh word was only to his unspoken wish,
No action drawn from him that was not secret want,
The world was ours, served on a silver dish,
So why then at me does old, dead King Duncan haunt?
Though queen, I fear he my husband speaks to me not,
Entrapped in webs of his own spinning, that went sour,
And yet on me they blame our Scotland's moral rot,
Now these instruments for blood I shall scour,
And if in my mind remains fearful doubt
Fate sealed when first spark of life caught in it,
Fanned dormant soul into a fiery blaze,
Accursed fortune bound and eternal writ,
Old and beloved joy now viewed through shadowy haze,
Not nature's child, sprung from earth's fertile womb,
Neither man or beast, no other under the sun,
Born to consign beauty to her dank, dark tomb,
From this damned being, humanity did run,
Dread, fear and revulsion, when confronted with him,
Melody ceased when approached by this sight,
Some to tear the unnatural limb from freakish limb,
Even cruel creator swore to erase this blight,
Think now, ye listener, the stakes are high,
Be he not as human a
Don't you know they pull your strings,
And make you say their words,
And dance their dances,
Not under your own power?
Don't you know they opened you up and put a wallet where your heart should be,
Don't you see the scars,
Tearing family asunder?
All about you,
Spotlight on your life,
There's more to life than rock 'n roll,
And sex and drugs and beauty,
More than glamor or wealth,
They cut you open, stitched your dreams into greed,
Then closed you up and pretended there was no change,
That you weren't just a shell,
Patched together from their manipulations,
Unfazed and inhuman, and yet terribly so,
You're a monster,
A patchw
Can't you hear my screaming?
Can't you see my fears?
So real to me, but not even in your head,
What do you know?
With your naive giggles and gossips,
When do tears cross your mind?
You've been living in a glistening cage,
A pretty pet on display,
With everything you want,
Perfection in your grasp,
Friends, family, what do you know of loss?
In your bubble the world is gilded with a golden gloss,
And disaster doesn't touch,
No tornadoes or hurricanes to shake you up,
Half full, half empty, yours overflows,
You don't even notice,
But other watch with parched throats,
And wish for the dripping excesses of your joy,
So wake up, p
Hi, My name is Emma and I am an American Teenager. I live in a make-believe world and like purple socks and llamas. ^^
Current Residence: In my head Favourite genre of music: Heavy Metal Favourite photographer: Ansel Adams Favourite style of art: Surrealism Operating System: Mac (Oh yeah!) MP3 player of choice: iPod Nano, heck yes! Shell of choice: Conch? Wallpaper of choice: Plain? Skin of choice: Mine? O.o Favourite cartoon character: Gaara from Naruto Personal Quote: "If life gives you lemons, squeeze them in your enemy's eyes"
Hello approximately one person who is actually reading this.
Greetings from the land of Emma. This is a strange land where weird things happen. Like writing a love poem to no one when I've never been in love. Strange, huh?
I'm bored.
Still.
Regardless.
However.
I dunno. What's up?
I reread my old poems. This included my comments on them. I have panic attacks sometimes still. In Spanish class I put my hair over my face so that my classmates couldn't notice when I started crying. I learned to cry silently last year. They all stared at me like a freak but whatever. I started hyperventilating and shit. Panic attacks suck.
Oh yeah, the
Hello, its been a while now. I've just posted Silver Cat about my precious kitten Natasha who I will have to give away, and I wish I could keep her.
Zoe, once again, I'm so sorry about your bird. Even though it freaked me out when it was alive, I kind of miss it.
'With the Lights out it's less dangerous
Here we are now entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now entertain us ' -Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana
'London calling, yeah, I was there, too
An' you know what they said? Well, some of it was true!
London calling at the top of the dial
After all this, won't you give me a smile?' London Calling by the Clash (F
Uh, right. I have this nice sketch going on for your dragon painted that I promised you! ouo I was wondering though, did you want it as an acrylic/canvas piece, or can I work on my digital skills?