Thursday, March 31, 2011

Paranoid vines estrangle Breath Away (Deliving Into Madness Chapter One)

Zombie like I wandered for hours,
into locales I’d long forgotten,

Despite the close proximity to my abode,

I watch these people,

What they drive, what sort of dress they wear,

How they interact with others, when the violence starts?

And have come to the conclusion,

If you close your mind to the answer,

The question will not appear,

Trying to roll the dice a bit this night,
I’ve got myself into a dabbling I don’t deny,

However, the terms are what the terms were back before,

They cannot simply change because someone decides so,

So I stay away from my bed,

I let the pantry rot with moldy bread and rotten fruit,

I leave the lights on, in case, actually I do not know,

But they are on, and the doors are locked,

Yet I know so well,

These aren’t the sort, who takes no very well,

I fully anticipate, five minutes into message checking,
The whole place to blow, and then for real, I’ll have nowhere else to go

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

By Candlelight, By Crutch

By candlelight,
In seclusion,

The feelings wrong,

The feelings right,

In this space,

At this time,

A flickering flame,

Illuminates this night,

In the Morn,
Silence is worn,

Like hope is sold,

To tattered refugees,

Knowing well enough,

Yet enough doesn’t matter,

If it did, this would surely last,

All days merge, into nights before,
An image reveals its truth,

In such vivid animation,

The thought bears promise,

The thought’s corrupt,

Here this moment,

In this frame,

A reunion with a crutch known all too well

Cosmic Lights

A blind river,
Rudely awoke,

Above beyond

The grey-white smoke,

That filled the air

Above below,

Ever gasp you’ve begun,

Cosmic artillery rushing down
They’re not viewing things as they should,

To threat they do not see,

Awake I beg, awaken me,

I would state the case so clear,

I’d flash the lights,

And reel the sirens till they hear,

A mission impossible to stop

Is a mission we allow to remain as dark,

A poltergeist from way before
A melody I won’t ignore,

A prophesy once told to me,

Where once my shoulders shrugged aside, today I fear we all may die,

All because of phenomena in the sky,

Cosmic lights in a world gone blind

Chaos in the Inventory (A Maelstrom in the Echo)

I live in a lonely world,
Blue steel shackled cold,

If I don’t speak,

No one will ever know,

There lives a world with everything you see and do,
And there is a world a blueprint of the first,

Yet in this second world we see,

A few, alarming distinguishing tells,

To separate, to correlate,

Each world knows not of the other,
Balance however must stay centered,

Symmetrical in design,

I stand alone in a world sublime,

Where radios play the different songs,

Playing simultaneously,

Where chaos and serenity

Become the opposite sides of a coin,

Or a mirror,

I live in between,
I am equilibrium,

I keep things aligned,

Moving from place to place,

I capture, return things that must not escape

If other things occur

I see the alternate receives the opposite

By the Boot Strap (Unseen Benefits)

By the Bootstrap
I do confer,

One more notch,

For what it’s worth,

Knuckles red from your skull
Why don’t you quit while you still can

I don’t want to but you know I will

Just lay there, pretend,

And all this will blow over us both,

I didn’t want to be that guy, the one who turned his back on a friend, but sometimes people are left with very little choice.  When it comes down to you or them, I’d hope you’d all agree, it’s a decision I don’t wish on anything.  It’s a decision in which I did not answer well.

Razors to the left of me, slugger to the right,

A holy war is about to begin,

I’m only doing this,

Would you believe, to save your soul?

Once I worked under some docks, in a barge that was inches small enough to fit in this incorrigible hole of a spot.  Needless to say the owner, who paid my daily rate, was a far cry from a spendthrift, and he convinced the boatyard to give him a steal of a monthly rate.  So there I was, all alone scraping barnacles from the hull, yes I was in full scuba attire, and no, it was not fun.  But I heard commotions from above, directly above where I tread.  Two men, or so I thought, one flashing like a light, I couldn’t properly get a glimpse of him, but I did the one who went into where I was.  The stomping left me for a bit, but when it stopped I checked on my newly acquired aquatic companion.  He was bleeding fierce, and sinking quickly.  I checked for rocks in his pockets or a chain along the waist, all frequent drowning tools of the ne’er do wells who frequently distribute their goods and peddle their wares in the sheds over the hill.  But there was nothing but sopping lint, yet this bloody excuse for a man was too much for me to hold.  Even with the natural buoyancy of the flesh and such, he had this propensity to drop.  He spoke in some unfamiliar tone, as I did my best to keep his corpse afloat.  I didn’t make out the uttering, it was not rare for illegal men and women to come through here, and they were not my business, so they were not my concern.  But he would not stop, and he flailed his arms, in an effort it seemed to allow the blood to encase about his face.  And then I wiped enough of the blood dry, a point in this life I shall never forget, nor tell another about.  He was not human, he was not a man at all.  Some demon figure, or space creature, positioned this close to shore.  I let him go in fear and fright, his body sunk so fast and hard.

I made my way to the shore,

I swam so fast I forgot the barge,

I should have stayed,

Upon the dock another creature stood awaiting me,
This one was not bloody except for his protruding nails,

His voice was course, but communicate he could,

And that’s is when he propositioned me,

With this decision I am working towards,

So please, just pretend, they cannot tell,

Stop your screams and lay still,

Otherwise I shall continue until you can no more,

Close your eyes and soon I’ll return to take you to a better place,
A place where men and women find their cures,

Just remember this is all for the good of man,

I cannot discuss anything further than from what I have.

To Complete

Sometimes I feel the games been done,
Over with now a long, long time,

Which means there either sadistic,

How they watch me wriggle,

See the effort I embrace,

Make me exert when the

Notion of accomplishment

Has long since left the guise,

Or perhaps they simply don’t have the humanity within,

To stop me cold before I swing again,

And let me know the game is complete,

Therefore I have no reason left to complete,

But if they had honored me in such a way,

I’d still swing away until I managed to beleaguer through,

I’d probably still be there,

Much longer than they could surmise,

Keep swinging impassioned,

Long after that point they close their eyes,

Shut the windows and say good night,

I’ll be there front and center,

In their dreams, swinging still

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Consecration of a Fallen Man

Back me into a corner,
For lack of power I’ve transposed,

For lack of will I’ve succumbed,

From talisman to the snake bitten and embattled shell of one

Now acknowledgment displays to me,

The ignorance of the righteous man

Oxygen escaping the throat,
Resurrection of the rule proposed,

I’m the effigy I’ve grown to be,

A false proclamation of immediacy,

Where distraction settles,
Distraction dwells,

No longer is strength a matter

When the subconscious is involved,

Back me to that corner,
Until the sky is dim

The air less warmer,

Hold me down until submission,

Before I burn, I first do blister

Movements of the martyred man,
Paths paved in solace,

Past deeds shoved, to the wayside,

Awaiting approval, anticipating a decisive claim to be,

Directions carved in stone and sand,

Directives honest and direct,

Where even the weakest can reflect;

Where even the smartest can respect,

Without hubris’ burdening,

You now see what I should have long ago,

Here I am, now standing still,

Before you now I reveal to you,

The consecration of a fallen man

Monday, March 28, 2011

Zygote Denied

Today I heard the brightest news,
From inside of me,

The ability to create,

From all the tattered time,

Spent withered in dismay,

Something bright has aligned with me,

If only you shared my glee,
If only you’d stand here with me,

My words bounce off your metallic shell,

You scream the choice is hers,

I wouldn’t know, I’m not she,

Months of feudal warfare,
Were futile,

I never stood a chance,

Why’d she tell me?

How could she have thought I’d agree?

Then came the day,
The day I dare not speak,

A zygote denied, a chance to live, to state it’s case for life,

A pockmark upon a once stainless sheet,

A beauty I once would have died,

Now comes to me, with a piece of paper in her hand,

Handing to me, to which I scan,

And raise me hand, but withdraw,

She speaks completely out of measure,

My look must now bring her pleasure,

What’s become of my treasure?

The one I cherished above all heavens,

For her this moment,

This time to think,

I’d split the cost and we’d start anew,

There was but one thing I could do,

Told her the direction she someday would travel,

And slam the door upon this matter

Prehex (bliss)

And she dabbles in the dark arts,
She said she needs a spark,
Perhaps another way,
For that feeling you'll find today,
She says she needs a purpose,
A calling, a direction,
I believe she's just searching, crawling,

About the grassy knolls, and in each fold,

Simply put she's looking to be apart of something,
And once you travel down this path,

Murky shadows will retract,

The voices, once unheard,

Whisper loud like singing birds,

The mastery, the mystery,

The infamy, the sorcery,

But what will she do,

When the evil grows so large, so demanding,

The way everyone warned it one day would?

But by the realization bit,
She’ll be on cue, she'll be spell bound, corrupted,

Nothing ill, No criticism can be said,
She'll hitch her ride and float away,
As for me,

I believe their must be another possibility,
Even still in this state,
There must be an alternate strategy,
Another directive of which to take,
There has to be another way,
To feel, to locate those pieces missed

Transformation of a Girl I knew

At first you’ll dye that blonde away,
Days then weeks we’ll watch it gray,

And now the once bright star we knew,

Transformed as the darkest of hearts within her grew,

Plaster skin,

Shanked smiles and cheshire grins,

The simplest and the deepest,

Overlooked for the most invasive thing you find,

The paradox of course,

Being spooned your wisdom off a convoluted plate,

Without out warning,

From the shadows,

You lurk and crawl,

From the darkness,

You’re likeness sprawls,
Pouncing towards, lashing at,
Any craving within your path,

Out of breath,

It cannot speak,

But the begging is all too clear,

Yet you choose not to hear,

At this point autopilot ensues,

Wickedly easy,
The transformation was,

By the lack of what’s inside now,

Compared to that little girl I knew well,

Without fear hate can take the weak most anywhere.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

A Will Transformed (Mythic Series (Song One: Song Of Vengeance))

The tracks are fresh,
Their scent is ripe,

My revenge will be had this night,

The falling white has yet to cover,
The wounded trail for which they suffer,

Soon this will all be over,

Years of scorn bubbling under,
The time is nigh, come asunder,

This eve lines shall cross,

Blood shall flow in every cost,

They can’t be far,
I can feel their fear,

Hiding deep and running scared,

My presence they too can feel,

They know I’m here,

And the time for forgiveness has long been lost,

Any softening of what could have been,

Resonates through each of these scars,

Aware they are of things to come,
Plead they can, beg for what will not occur,

And they shall try to evade again,

But tonight I will not miss, this day meet we will,

And the end will be much the same,

As it began and so it shall fall,

Only one survives,

Only one will conquer,

And if it is I to live,

I will not live an heir to grieve,

If I fail in my only desire,

Rest assured this will not end upon my grave,

For my ghost shall haunt forever,

Whether awake or dream

Saturday, March 26, 2011

The Bridge: An historical Overview from Past to Present (Mythical Series Volume Seven)

Generations gone before these same eyes,
 Much has changed since the temple’s flame,
 Of those men, the only to remain is me,

Months had since parched us dry,

Since last Freya left our side,

Men grew tired, men grew bored,

The withdrawal from blood to shed,
All imprisoned, could be worse I would tell,

Factions were forming before my eyes,

Sides were drawn,
Many would hold back biting tongues,

Their belief, their faith, remained with me,
Obey their guide, their religion, their creed,

Others boredom clawed beneath, created wounds towards their very chance at immortality,
These men were good at bludgeoning,

Excelled at piercing flesh and crushing skull,

Patiently awaiting the sign to come,
A daunting feat for each of them,
Word quickly spread through the units,
Asgaard would not call upon us,

The Gods have given up, have forgot about men like us,
With only the same fruit, same drink, same mead, same meat,

Without variety, tempting evil grows close and nigh,
The men began to question the memory even,

Of Freya standing before us that night, doing what she did,

Requesting what she would,
Sven, a bold soldier in himself, raised axe with violent abandon,
Broke his voice for each world to hear,

His patience and he claimed to speak, for each of us upon this hill,
Had become breached, and had long since been dry,
And if an enemy were to come,

So much a gift for beast or man,
To clash with souls smothered by contempt, of men standing still,

I rose to urge him not go with such lines any further,
But too much mead he had got,

Lost in misery he failed to see, that the mission was not complete,
We were but pawns in the grandest of schemes,

And wait we must to collect our rightful things,

My words were dampened by their ire,
Effigies of Gods they would place on the fire,

When a flash reached each world in its brightening,

Could rueful words have awakened?

Would the hammer soon claim our scalps?
Anger turned to somber fear,

Fore in all the men’s disparaging words,

Each was not foolish to believe a God they could fairly fight,

Surprised the men, myself as well,
From asgaard’s glow our rivers swelled,

Our livestock rampantly multiplied,
All variation of fruit to eat,

A golden ramp would close the gap,
A bridge for where the vegetation was at,

Men were at awe,
Open faced, ashamed and scarred,

Then wood it would appear,
Along with nails made of solid steel,
Hammers too aligned the shores,
A sign our waiting would last much more,

Enough wood there was for each of us,

A house to claim as their own,
Fattening upon nightly feasts,

Debauchery led to best night sleeps,
But again, time greatly swept us on each side,

And men grew tired once again,

The food, the drink, the libations to keep,
The nails, the boards, the homes we built,

And yet these men desired comfort still,
Long days went by and the greatest of each unit
Would cease not to cry,
Many vowed to cross the way,

To the closest towns,

The nearest villages they would meet,

Women were the drug they need,
I warned them all that soon would come,
The announcement from above,

And they did not believe a word I spoke,
Beards like this take time to coat,

They’ve lost track of us up on this village hill,
They’ve left us here to die,

To rot away so close to the core,
So near the sky,

No they pled enough play the God’s have had,
It was time we gathered all and deserted this rueful mission,
At which time the sky turned red,
Then nothing could be seen at all,

We’d all been exposed to a blinding might,
And each for much time saw darkened light,

 Stumbling most the men would do,
Until their bed they’d feel,

Retire each would for they each required replenishing,

When I arose the next day since,
I noticed each home was still the way they’d last since been,

All men accounted for,
Nothing changed at all,

Until I saw a sight that would spirit lift,
Awaken faith within them all,
In the rivers, the water clears,

Maidens, so many for eyes to hear,
Each bathing as the God’s intended them,

By this time now, the men had arose,

And vision had returned to them,
Upon seeing what I have,

Their quest for departure had been left for dead,
With a quickened pace,

We all met the maiden’s by the lakes,
The first one brown and gold,

Approached me, and such she told,
They were hear for our needs fulfilled,
There was one for each man in these mountain fields,
To take and choose,

Pick the ones they chose to own,
And so they did, all but I,

I chose to remain as I had,
Devoted to the God’s alone,

Myrta, the one for me,
Understood and judged not did she of me,

Together she spent many years,
As friend, as companion,

Never questioned did I her,
For women also have wanton wombs,

At which time I heard a voice in prayer that night,
Which told me my honor was beyond expectation,

I should lay with Myrta for the rest of days,
And pleased with this news Myrta laid with me,

A thousand years since has passed,

The scenery had spun into a village,
That now rests as the shoulders,

Of three towns strong with maidens as well as men,
Sprawling down the mountains, into fields and past grand valley ways,

Each warrior was taught the trade,

I oversaw each detail they were to learn,
My men, the maidens, my family too, all gone and burned,

Their children, and their children’s children too,
No one left from the day Freya came and sang her song,
But from those men, because of them,
Today we stand an army wide,

Awaiting the calling still from above,
Many generations now have not spilt blood,

Many more do not care of it,
Peace is as unsettling to me,

As hordes of demons from each side,
From below, and from above,

But ready they were,
Dedicated for that day,
Many more days had crossed,

Many fall from age,
Yet many more replace them here,

Children ask me all the days,
Why am I the only one, yet to pass away?
A question I had answers none,
They called me a God myself,

Quickly though I ended talk like such,
I live until I die, until that day,

I live to serve, and Serve to live, and live to survive, Survive for them, as well as you,
This is the path, this is the goal,

And if we die before they return, we will wait in silence, from our tombs

Friday, March 25, 2011

Alms for the Broken (Mythic Series Volume Six)

Golden handle to the door
Will gain us entry to eternal glory,
Extend my arm towards the goal,
Upon touch however cold it is outside
The flesh within the lamb protecting
Fingers from the blade scold at first
Then burst to blaze,
Still I pull back with a thousand might’s,
Yet the golden entrance does not blink,
In flames I seek release of hand
Yet my soul is powerless to magnetic command
Warriors look for access else place
But the fire from the gold and hand
Has spread throughout this temple grand

My sentry did what he could do,
Axe to wall, not a budge
The courier climbed from horse to rooftop high
Amidst the blaze into holiness he could not pass,
Like fruit still ripe upon the vine
It took three men to peel the glove from the hand of mine,

Short time after all that stood was the door of red,
Golden handle and charred lamb glove,
Slowly we waded through the temple’s corpse
Among the ash and smoke taken cloth
It was determined the inferno offered no remorse,
The chalice we could not find,
If it was here, buried in rubble and debris,
No mouth would raise it to its lip,
No tongue would drink fluid from its width,
So far we’ve gone, this close we’ve come,
Yet without the cup we have not won,

No words were spoken for long hours,
The thoughts of men were not desired
We each knew the pity we shared,
Each dream of reunion burned as well
And soon the God’s I must tell

Morale was sunk beneath our mortality
If enemy appeared this moment,
Thus would end our reign of brutality,
The Gods would need to find another,
To do their bidding,
To honor the pact they have with humanity,

And so I prayed to each,
Internal rhyme I could not find,
My message must not have been understood,
For nothing from the sky descent by our side,
Wait we did for months it seemed,
Afraid to move for the God fearing,
Unable to for the weak,
Then many moons had passed,
Freya appeared at last,

Each face opened, jaws broke in unholy disbelief,
But their came down the chariot,
Guided plainly by the blessed cats,
Love felt by each the men,
My gaze transfixed upon falcon
Wrapped around her holiness,

Softly spoke she did to us,
Appreciative of what we’ve lost and battles we’ve won,
Upon my knee, before her pride,
I begged a moment of her day,
She said to rise and speak my say,
I thanked her for her graciousness,
My lady from up high,
What do Vanir seek from I,
To which she instructed the importance
Our service means, and soon directive
Will return to us, but here upon this mountain’s top
Wait we must, and wait for whatever length,
Obey in the Gods we will trust, using patience for our breath,

She retreated to chariot, then stopped and knelt,
Touched the frigid earth
And suddenly vegetation sprung to our surprise,

And then Freya left us all,
And wait we would,
Until we next heard Asgaards cry

The Readiness (and then She happened)

The Readiness was there, it was everywhere

Magnetic, is how she happened,
An alternating essence, evolving every layer,
Dissolving suicidal cravings,
I knew, there right then, God indeed has plans for men,
 Over built and destructive to the soul, the dilemma quite atrocious,
When the creator has cradled his project,
Would not assign responsibilities to his team,
Then when the funding cut,
He had his baby but not much of what he did,
The razor was vertical,
Inches from impact,
Sweat tore holes through once distinguished clothes,
Quivering, twitching, having the hardest time steadying,
Then the cavalry marched on in,
Sent his son and daughter away for the weekend,
Couldn’t let them be the first to see,
Yet it appears his son left behind a piece of him,
The phone which some believed attached to his hand,
Perhaps it was not the moment, he may return before they came,
So instead he would choose to deliver the phone to him,
Then alone he could be, with his deadliest intention,
But as you know, as you’ve been tipped off to,
The best laid plans often fall right through,
On the path back home,
His children’s faces, they way they presented themselves,
Right there, at that time,
It’s like they were cognizant in an unfathomable way,
Perhaps his melodramatic words gave him away,
Perhaps, but as you know things don’t end this way,
Roads of tar, one way out,
Due to construction, a different avenue back,
A street one block over,
Could have been in California,
All this time, each day since passed,
This feeling so close,
A smile crept upon his face,
Puffy thoughts could not escape,
Random stumbling of the words,
Music loud, if you knew him, you too would find it absurd,
But all of this had fine reason,
Shaking feet, sweaty hands,
Veins screaming for injection,
Injection of her again,
And so begins a tale we all thought was done,
Yet through some well timed twists of fate,
This man shall experience, a truly new, a reason to be,
He shall embark upon a brand new second life, a season filled only with varying speeds

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Which Way Shelter Runs

Which way shelter runs,
Upon commencement of a settling sun,
Daggers drip of melting snow,
Twinge in texture, organically ambition grows,
From red tinted languor to spite filled rhetorical cries,
Interloping between mosaic thoughts and layered tears,
The posturing of this arrangement blurs the lines, lines you despise,

Multi-faceted illusions begin to creep,
A blend of power amidst a violet much too raw,
Wild antics on display, the disease is active, the strains are deep,
The key to secrets that you keep,
Repress the visions that you saw, repress them, repress them all,

Which way shelter runs,
Along the subdivisions of crooked roads,
Deep amongst the cluttered dark,
Tattered motions provide the spark,
From refuge to those who follow blindly,
The moldings of the framework are alarmingly disfigured,
When comparing kings and pawns,
And thus one difference between raven and swan,

The once awakened pretty creatures weep,
For one day soon awake you will from your sleep

Betrayed by Swine (Mythic Series Volume Five)

Our reemergence was but minutes old,
As the temple our eyes told,
Short march past
Some angry brush
Stay on course avoid we must
The bloodshed we’ve grown accustomed to,
The pain, the misery, the prayers by some
That each moment should be it for them,

Upon our march, single filed
One man noticed the peculiar absence
Not a noise stirred, no voicing screaming
From the clouds,
We all agreed it was strange indeed
But it was the comfort our ears need,
It’s been long, devastating,
We all are worn, but in that holy place
Our deeds this day, a culmination
Of our past thousand or longer hours,
Spent beneath death, spitting in the face of agony,
But here we are with all odds beaten,
Arrived we have, our war is done,

Moments from the gate of holy men,
Another of my clan spoke a point we had blinded eyes toward,
Since when are boars content to abide by arbitrary mortal law,
Never had they witnessed obliging pigs unconfined,
And then our weakest soldier escaped a thought,
To which blades unveiled, and shields aligned,
“How did not but one, but how did eight boar arrive to this place,
Miles from the level ground, a good distance into clouded sky”

In pattern, in design
The heavens had changed
The lightest blue filtered through a whitened hue,
Transformed to ruby red and dark tinting screen,

The swine had betrayed us,
Our own satisfaction had left is in contentment,
Pig flesh burning, snouts and fangs contorting
And from the swine monsters rose,
All the while biding time to strike
Shape shifters in boars’ clothes

Monsters shapeless without form,
Engorging the peace this mountain morn,
Soon their darkened flesh
Would meet the blood of the fallen
At the mercy of our once tempered blades,

And so it went, only one clansmen
Lost his head, but from which
My eyes found a way, an angle
This led to an ease in victory,
Where every monster would be slain,

As my brother broke containment
Shield in right, left with sword
A trickle of aura tore through painted cloud,
The monsters tail bore swift
Lopped my man in two,
But in this moment of supreme sorrow,
The emanation scarred his shield
And with light reflected their weakness was revealed,

And in such the very manner,
We stood our ground,
Swords high, shields angled,
One by one, they didn’t learn,
One by one,
As is the pattern we’ve wrote before,
The numbers in helvete,
 Have shrank some more
The chalice is behind the temples’ mouth,
 Lest another tries to stave, soon high the chalice shall be raised

Springtime Leads to Summer (Not so Fast, says your Mother)

Trees begin to sprout natural green
Oxygenation levels rise organically
Sun sprays to the heart
Rays of light envisioned
By heroes of everyday land
Normal, average every men,
They’ve got intriguing blueprints,
Yet when their canvass returns to bleakness
When the vision is blurred
When heat withdraws
A different message is conveyed,

Whiteouts in almost April,
When just last week we travelled to the attic,
Pulled out the boxes,
And renewed old acquaintances,
We’d hope to become re-familiar very soon,

And I awoke today; the same as every day,
Yet when I opened up the curtains,
Raised the blinds, certain to see a few days into spring time,
Green grass coated by misplaced snow,
Instead of outside, inside we return,
Instead of removing the plastic from the pane, we increase the heating bill once again

In This Exaggerated Tunnel

In this exaggerated tunnel,
We are forced to ride,
To and from everything,
The notion is noxious
The forecast is daunting
Frame upon frame
Seemingly the vision doesn’t change,

Many like me aboard; also there are those I do abhor,
And then there are many others I’ve grown numb towards
But I see people all the time in a different mindset,
Joking, conversing, communicating just fine,
Some is one sided, head nod then good day
Others are deep and intimate
Where neither wished it to be any other way
Not caring by who sees what
They are both looked upon
By an extra large shield of love,

There then, that’s the answer,
Fall in a stupor and fail to acknowledge
The reality and confusion which surrounds you,
Much happier, very convinced in the fallacy
Everyone is born good natured,
They say reframe yet I think it’s so much simpler to leave the train