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A Editorial of SuchWell I thought to just write this now. I have a deep horrible torturous trouble writing. Writing is reason and straight thought. Something I do not have. Instead I have the motor, the wish to keep writing, and I have the trim, the creative side of me. However every time I try to write I can't because:A Editorial of Such
A: My thoughts land on the paper like a poor Rorschach Test B: I feel that I need to devote more time than ten minutes every two months. C: I see too much media which only corrupts ideas. For example once I watch an episode of Dexter, I suddenly wish to have a my superhero become a superhero serial killer leading a norma
by ~TheZenSen
What lies insideI divide my fears evenly so that it each can get light For it is time to improve and gain a overwhelming might But in the end I had to turn my headWhat lies inside
Because they were just too black back I try to wish them to be a long forgotten harsh dream I fatuously and shamefully wither on the facts of being a teen Dare I spread my ideal hopes finely over a sweet far trill? Shall this afternoon burn be claimed by the midnight chill? But if it must be right then I must face them right now For to not it be against my human and gentleman vow Now is the calling time in which my worries near
Fo
by ~TheZenSen
Death is unlike usDeath is unlike us For he has not a understanding for our constructs He can't identify with why we rush For he can slowly wait to abduct Every time he works - he keeps time He keeps souls Weather or not if they are in their prime No matter of completed goals He is a careful Machine that ticks He is the product of Original Sin He the boatman at Styx He is every foul thing within Physically you can not see him He waits in the Clocks and ancient dusty books Yet you can sense the grim He hides in all the darkest nooks Look at the sweet lady as she crieDeath is unlike us
by ~TheZenSen
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