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Post by apocalypticjay on Aug 29, 2009 9:13:31 GMT -5
The eagle fights for flight This evil eats the night From the land to the sea Wickedness is greeting me
But...
The saints are building towns The entertainer is our clown Jumping through the hoops As we drink the bitter soup
On my corner they sell our souls For bronze, silver and gold And if you should buy our souls This world would turn cold
Bitterness would reign Animosity and pain Don't let them sell your soul Don't let them make you cold
The daybreak burns with time The birds sing and rhyme From the caves to the tides Existence is eaten alive
Now...
The sinners are demolishing towns No room for our feeble clowns How will we be entertained? With agony in our terrain
© J A Mason
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Post by Max on Aug 30, 2009 17:18:40 GMT -5
Holy Hell, man. This is undoubtedly my favorite piece of your work that I have yet to read. Every single line is done masterfully, with near perfection. I just love this man, I can't do you justice in this comment, just know that I appreciated and adore this more than words can sufficiently describe. An exalt will have to do for now, fantastic write brother!
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Post by Harklight on Sept 1, 2009 21:11:34 GMT -5
I'm chilled all through, Jay! It's a very strong write, with bold phrasing, and the only place you tender any relief is obliterated in the next line: "The daybreak burns with time The birds sing and rhyme From the caves to the tides Existence is eaten alive"
*brrr, final stanza twists the knife: few will care about being entertained when the world is falling in agony, all around. Bravo!! Exalt! H x
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Post by Artemis on Sept 28, 2009 5:29:55 GMT -5
Wonderful and graphic write once again Jay. Fantastic imagery and full of scary truth n my opinion. The way your vivid imagination worked in this piece really chilled me too ... K xxx
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