《Assorted Poetry and Idle Musings》 The Nature of Poetry Emotion is a tricksome steed. One through which, creative bleed. Partially made, for you to read. Moreso for I, to express a need. One for connection in place O'' deception. As I show, that I am no exception. These ideas which are my own conception. Will they be met full with rejection? This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Impassioned hearts, do fall apart. Again restart, yet loose the spark. Or do they? My kingdom dark, my future stark. From desolation, I do bark. Be this my way? My art I bare, unpleasant fare. From my lair, I might repair. What have you say? I ride along, while sat upon, this tricksome steed. Hopeful light does break the day, a pinch of frost has melt away. From virgin snow, the sun does glow, and in it I do lead. Grab a drink, come have a think, I beckon you to stay. From me to thee, I do beseach, you please enjoy the read. These are the musings of a leaf. Starbound I was once told, by a fellow at the bar People look for two things in a mentor They search for stars and scars I look upon my life and what I''ve endured Some would think it a life most peculiar Poverty, Disparity, an unwelcoming family tree One I always longed to flee, to find a place to be me So I did enlist in the army. Comradery, commodity, I thought not for me but for we Battles fought, I did never flee, a good life now in front of me Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. One of challenge and reward, stability But then my scars, they were mistaken Not as survival won but lives taken My future, my dreams, they were forsaken In cold sweats at night, I still awaken Even now I do ask what I would have maken A Man? A Hero? A Monster? Proudly do I wear these scars, now let''s see what of my stars? Among my class I set the bar, though in truth it was not hard I have traveled the lands of my home, more near than far It was a foolish trip of youth, hitching rides car to car What few friends I have are good, if rather bizarre But I''m not one to judge, they are who they are. More scars bare their head, parting gifts from the dead. Discarded by those I served, I craft meaning from word. Lonely is this cruel fate I''ve earned. Relic of childhood spent as a nerd. No comfort in life, no respite in rest, I doubt I will find any peace in my death. When my number is drawn, to hell I''ll be dragged down. Until that day I''ll rage upwards, I''ll be starbound If you might learn something from myself Take my mistakes, of them I''ve a wealth Live your life boldly, do away with any stealth It''s the world that is crazy not yourself And of my winnings I hope you can see You must please yourself not this society So strike out to your goals, run, meet them bodily After all, what''s the point in this life sans a dream? My Twisted Spine When I was a young soldier, with a chip on my shoulder I set out to prove myself to those who were older Op Broken Gunner we joked, "no doubt we''ll be smoked" I never thought that I too would be broke We took up our cannons and let bullets fly We vented our hatred, imagined foes they did die Our first week had passed us in the blink of an eye With not a single cloud hung in the summer sky We held the defensive, We made our great stand Then an elderly officer came up with a plan We abandoned our water, sleep and food can So we could prove we were hard to this elderly man We mocked battles, across open fields we fought We skirmished for days, almost fifty degrees hot And the first troops were claimed by foot rot We made for the forests, hopeful for a cot Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Instead by a friend, I was nearly shot We were dragging on, half dead on our feet. We couldn''t believe it was only two weeks Grimey and beaten, lucky for hour''s sleep When the Colonel came by, he said "What a reek!" Our numbers nearly halved, the cannons were short staffed In grim humors we gaffed "At least we weren''t draft!" The last week of the shoot, our complaints became moot Our bitterness took root and we, grimly resolute We would see it through to the end, our duties not shirked unto friend We would cry "Full Send!", unbroken despite the starts of a bend I was a man of iron, convinced I''d not break My pride as a soldier now fully at stake That night we took up our rifles, bullets none to fake And made for the forest, searching for enemies to take. I was still new to the gear called ''night vision'' While I donned the monocle, I did listen To the wisdom of veterans'' many a mission I was tip of the spear, I''d lead this incision I''d outlasted many others, I''d been taken by none Not dehydration, hunger, exhaustion nor burning sun I can do this, I thought as I took up my gun One day, this leaf would make a fine champion So in that dark forest I took off half at run My questing foot found a root left unseen And just like that, it shattered my dream I went to the ground without so much as a scream Twisting as I fell to protect an expensive machine. We laughed and joked about my potent youth Adrenaline and bruised pride, both hid the truth T-6,7,8 had all slid from their booth I pressed on headless, my life changed by this sooth Before dawn I lay down to rest, proud to be one of the best I though upon my knowledge gained, later I awakened pained. I tried to stand but could not, I checked my feet, finding no rot. At dawn''s light to my Sargent I say, ''I''ll sweat it out, I swear I''m okay" But he saw I was not, so I was taken away. The pain was great but fleeting, yet it destroyed my pride Taken from my team, I croaked out my goodbye It is an ugly thing to see soldiers cry Nobler by far should I simply die I longed for that, for a time. Five years ago now, my service long ended. I think back to the fine soldiers I''ve befriended. All faiths and creed, from which they''ve descended. I''d thought us all invulnerable, a fact now contended. I was but a man, and a man can be rended. A Players Folly: The Pyromancer I''ve hosted many games, to you I regale A most recent blunder, a truly epic fail But first you must know the star of this tale Noble born of dragon''s blood, his name''s Drakon Arrogantly haughty, his opinion never wrong He arrives in town after a journey not long And upon a barge captain, he spins him a song "Why is this ship not loaded and already underway? For what do you think you people are paid?" "Who be you, to come here bossing me crew?" This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. "Why I am the Captain, as you surely knew." The player rolled his die, to sell this tall buff I warned him fairly, "This will be quiet tough" The die fell to natural 20 surely t''was thus I looked to my player, "That''s not enough" "I be the Captain, ye proud stupid fool! Now get off me ship, before ye be gruel!" Drakon cried foul play, said I bent the rule I said "He''s the Captain, he''s not your tool." "I cast fireball" to the table''s lament. "Firebolt, surely that is what you meant?" "I would make an example, a Frieza moment. Now tell me DM, which of them do I get?" He rolls his eight dice, and I throw my ten "They fall to the deck, you''ve killed all of them" "How could that be? I just dealt thirty-seven" "These are not monsters, only common men." The party takes up arms, a panic ensues We take a quick break, then the panic resumes. "I didn''t think they''d die. I had assumed-" "They are all dead, tell me what you do." Drakon roared "We burn the town down." Vivian said "We hide, let''s go to ground." Wrench uttered "Wait guys, we can turn this around." Then my players all heard a sound Twas the sound a girl, who''s father just died. My players listen, as the girl cried. I am proud to say, one was teary-eyed. Drakon seized action, he swiftly did decide. "I cast another Fireball." Then the girl too did die. "Let''s call that game" I said in bitter stride Meanwhile I died in part too, on the inside. Simple Regret This dreadful ache within my soul I may be man, but not one whole Mere existence, I''ve no true goal Until at last I hear my final toll This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. A life spent in wait, a boy drained of hate Claimed by no mate, a husk sacrificed to uncaring fate There is pain within that will not heal My flesh marred by scars, now long seal Destiny profound that seems unreal My blackened soul still awaits reveal Higher thoughts, they do descend With past actions, I must contend My history long written, to no amend Will I find joy before I reach my end Or has my suffering fled me through this pen? Memories of Two Old Truckers I sipped at coffee, black and cold Listening to two recount things of old They spoke with pride, aloud and bold Of the things in life which they did behold One is dying of cancer, long and slow He had 6 months, 25 months ago He shared with me his lonesome woe By naught but his words I was held in tow He spoke of work, when he could run the road Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. He detailed hundreds of 53-footers towed A life spent well, sampling products of his load To his friend and me, he sang this wistful oad Time had passed swiftly, perhaps an hour The dying trucker, his face became sour. His aging continence did start to dour And he shared his regrets to those of our Times long gone, Twas the wild west A time when all truckers had their best No electronic logs which dictated rest Without corporate masters slavish behest He spoke of things I''ve never known A time when a man could be his own Across the continent, he could sow The seeds to which he''d one day grow He spoke of mountain trails and loads taken from rails He spoke of foods with real flavor and delights he did savor He spoke of Louisiana rain and the old men who did he train He spoke of rare greasy spoons and breathtaking full moons He spoke of the fall of this land, the inherent flaws within man Ugly beast of corporate greed, to which men must now heed At the end he spoke of his failing strength The wasting tax cast by slow death The need to no longer prove himself And the drain upon his slipping health He had seen the last glory days With his two eyes of saddened grey No more to look forward to today "For me now, it is too late to change." A Players Folly: The Lizard I''ve played a few games, to you I regale A blunder long past, a truly epic fail But first you must know the star of this tale Twas session zero, we were starting anew The premise this time, we''d soon be a pirate crew To fit that mold, our characters we must hew It should have been a simple matter, easy enough to do Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. And so a lizardman was made, savage and primal We all spawned at the docks making our first arrival We''d brave the high seas, through plunder, reaping survival The lizard''s player made his first choice, one most final "I don''t get on the boat. I shall hold the rudder and float." Our DM was new to the role, quiet uncertain still But he wanted to try the challenging role to fill He lost his nerve to the selfish player of stronger will And so the stupid lizard he did not offhandedly kill Our ship was attacked by pirates, to no one''s surprise We took to the deck and fought with wild eyes Except for the lizard, the scrappy jerkass only hides And because of his cowardice, a PC swiftly dies The battle was won, the pirates repelled The survivors were drained, no skill was withheld Up the side of the boat the lizard rappelled With a rage and a blade, the party he felled And so our story ended before it truly begun Our characters lived not a single trip of the sun With a smug smile, the Lizard boldly states "I won." Lone Leaf Amidst the winter forest I see, Pride of my nation, a maple tree. Upon its branch spotted keenly by me I now do see, a single frozen leaf. In the forests, I look around Us true leaves, so seldom found More oft then not in ice we''re bound You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Unmoving, lifeless, robbed of sound For the leaves have fallen down Us noble leaves, we''ve been displaced Our once great warriors now disgraced Canada now lacks common tongue and face Stuck as we all are, in this rat race I look to the snowy lands I once defended I see my people so thoroughly discontented Neighbors being friends? A notion long ended A populous consumed by ME, fully unrepented Begrudge new Canadians, I lack that haught How could I judge those who better their lot? My lands mistake Justice for penance sought Discarding true leaves for those who are not Betraying its warriors, for their country been shot Replacing us with fresh cancer, a living rot. These false leaves drive my nation apart They may poison my country, but never its heart Every true leaf is nature''s great savage art So long as a single leafy seed still remains Our once great forest can be regrown again Monotony Grey winter days fly by in an unchanging daze, I throw myself into work seeking positive change While I grow in steady measure, things feel the same, I often wonder if my intelligence is the one to blame Complacence and contentment, diametrically opposed My life is either stable and dull or in massive changing throes Great stillness, a man filled with self doubts seeking somewhere to go Yet so disgusted by this mundane life of mine I feel fit to suddenly blow Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Day to day everything is ''just fine'' but days turn to months of me whiling time The wants of common man are none of mine, what I need is a purpose, perhaps even divine Yet my options are few, my connections near nil, I''ve no rich family who will front my quest''s bill Because I am unhappy my tempers oft become ill, I need someplace to utilize all this skill with rifle, mind or tongue, a warrior novelist who longs to live by the gun. Such ideals are lofty and so far away, even now I''ve lost another grey day How long until these labors of mine to pay? How long before I finally find my way? You who share my struggle know my thoughts all to well, like a revolving door at the gates of hell Months spent as if circling the drain, that damned weariness, a soul-deep pain. Read and write, speak and fight, conflict or flight Unable to fully sleep at night. Unable to truly see the light Through all this damned grey monotony A Lonesome Heart in Hell I often find myself alone No one calls me on the phone Which give me lots of time to hone The many skills, I''d like to one day own. Yet still I still find myself longing, filled with wist Unlike my friends who are oblivious To the pains I''ve known, the people I miss As I trudge onward, seeking final bliss. I once knew love, rather late in my years As if from thin air, she did appear And like a knight, I caught her tears In an instant our connection was revered. Deeper than light, forceful as a wave With her I had neither want nor crave that went unanswered. She was a Goddess, I a slave we swore to hold our love beyond the grave Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Yet the grave came for her too soon. My isolation returned to fester, with her my life was better All my days were bleak, and so mine cheek, became the wetter. I longed once more for a life with her. My days became sallow, after her I would follow A fool''s hope I had bought and so a fool''s plan I wrought. For that life, I too would depart this earth. Family blade cleaned of rust, through mine own heart I thrust My body broke swiftly to dust, yet my soul held firmly to its must. I would save elle, she was worth Hell. Warily, Devils gave me aid upon the promise of a blade. Towards a path I was steered, by my hand it was cleared of danger, through a cone of Hell I was a ranger. Bloodied yet unslain, my wrath I did unchain. To reach my damned lover, I was headless to all other. I reached her there, in a cavern of waxing blue. I saw her as if bathed in the light of the moon. I dropped my blade and left my path of ruin. I''d been in Hell for years, our joining was none too soon. She wept when she saw me, she''d railed against death It was for my soul, she had gave her own breath. But the deal had been made, its price reaped in spade By my own hand I was taken, so her pact was now forsaken In the name of blind love. My strength was not enough. We held each other for a time that seemed endless Without the other our hearts would be defenseless. Yet death was far too cruel, the one law no man could rule. Of us both she thought I an ace, to wind up in a better place For my sake she would be dragged down, so that I could be star-bound. "Did you really come down here hoping to save me?" "In truth, yes. Though I knew that it could not be. In life it was You who saved Me. It''s the least I could do After all, my true Hell is a life lived without you." We embraced one last time, knowing hell together would be fine. Yet I awoke alone in my bed, knowing full well I was dead. A quick glance to my phone, proves once more I''m alone And you are gone below while at life I blindly throw Myself. Come snow or rain, through it all I endure this pain For the sake of you, anything less impossible for me to do. Once death takes me back once more, I''ll find the smiling face that I adore Lit by the blue lights of familiar Hell, we''ll spend eternity together well. I''ll finally get another chance to kiss you, because I''ll be damned if I don''t miss you. Rhythmic Anhedonia The muse is gone, and for him I fawn so to once more see beauty in the light of dawn Is that so wrong to seek passion from song before the wonder is struck and says so long How many words are there which I might prepare for this bland nothing of pale compare Hollow, the longing to be filled with anything Aching, to feel even pain''s bitter sting Broken, a man crushed by suffering Empty, am I even a living thing? The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. My dull verses grow the same, bleary shapes made from pain from a mind hardly sane How often do I think these thoughts, far more often than I aught, all again it''s for naught Where are these greener fields, what eats these tasty meals, who enjoys these boring reels A fresh breath of air cuts through this despair and I see a reason to care But I blink and it''s gone while I linger on Another day spent confused, again I''ve been used, my aspirations refused Yet still I can''t break this cycle, the drip freeze drip of an icicle I miss the pain of work, the skilled challenge. I miss my fallen brothers I''ve yet to avenge I miss so many and so much, perhaps these bitter memories are my crutch To forget might be sweet, in a swift second my past I''d delete But what then? I''m not one to accept sour defeat. Would I build myself anew, pick myself up by my shoe and keep pressing through Who would accept me, where would I go, what would I do? If only I knew, I certainly wouldn''t be complaining to you. Stonewalled What started as a favor to a friend, has grown too ugly for me to pretend That things can be as they were before, now that you''ve run to hide and slammed that door So afraid that my opinion might somehow get lower, of a so-called ''adult'' a petulant toddler tantrum-thrower. Actions and behavior that scream for me to leave, words and pity beckon me to stay When my aid only leaves you so damned displeased, I''m sick of letting you just have your way. You don''t deserve to have my help, you always blame me but never blame yourself I''m not the one who hides, who lies, who shrivels up and dies instead of swallowing my pride, only to once again rise, true motives hidden in disguise, unable to look me in the eyes before once more stabbing at my sides while I steer you ever onwards to a new day''s sunrise. So why can''t I just leave you to this hell that you''ve so painstakingly brought upon yourself? The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The will of mind, the bonds we''d forged. You think you''ve won a battle, but you actually lost the war. We were soldiers once, both you and I, would you please explain to me when you up and died? What battle raged what pains have you got, that you long since let the man I knew succumb to this rot? This life you ''live'' is a cancer, double-thinking, lashing out, unwilling to speak or listen let alone answer These logical concerns of mine have been stonewalled. I came to help you up after a hard fall So why oh why are you raging at me? The bigger, better man I''m so tired of being. Now I finally see that you''re truly gone, I don''t know the corpse that marches on. I owe you nothing, nor did I ever. I''ll cut you from my life and be all the better. Impossibly still, I can''t leave him be. Our long-dead friendship still holds meaning to me. Madness to leave and madness to stay, I conjugate thousands of words to say But first he must listen, a conversation goes both ways, an exchange taken and given. One last second chance I know he doesn''t deserve, all that needs be are a few spoken words. But he won''t even do that, I''ve done what I can but must now tip my hat. The cancer lashes out so deeply perturbed, desperate to have the last spiteful word. If only in text I think he may change, but I know that he won''t so I must not engage. Remain polite and civil, answer back rage with cold will, I finally force down this damned bitter pill. The whole world was on your shelf, why the hell won''t you just help yourself? Because I''m done doing that for you. Yellow Moon-Lit Run Blackened sky, natural light so dim and weak, exertion of my flesh is what I seek Upon a yellow moon-lit run Artificial light, it rapes away the night, industrial might that obliterates my sight Upon a yellow moon-lit run The guiding cycles of the moon, long have they been eschewed, fear the dominating mood of the people peddling doom. Yet mine roots to earth have been renewed, while sweat pours from me half-nude, my humors now in tune With this yellow moon-lit night Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. What cowards made this land of naught but sun, this land through which I now run, the harmony of nature long undone, I fear what this will one day become. Without darkness to counter-balance light, what stars will guide us right? What is there to wish upon? A place to gaze upwards and belong? It is a joy you see with more than sight. Do you even know what you gave to stave off fright? Far away in places known, the frozen wastes I once called home, the night knew us as we knew it, a pact of mutual benefit. It was a time for wonder, peace and respite. What is darkness but the invert of light? When this blinding light devours all, who will be able to see the fall? To rid the world of every shade, would you clear cut every forest glade? In posh wooden coffins we''ve all been entombed, the great sum of nature slowly doomed. When the planet dies, we will too. Perhaps that is why I feel removed. Once we are long gone, nature may yet again spawn And once more, there will be a yellow moon-lit night. Nightmares Terror holds no place in mine heart, not even as I am torn apart In the haunting shade of dream, half-remembered things unseen. Brutalized again I die, limbs from my bodies pried, and again I wake with open eyes, to see the same familiar skies, I breathe again now post-demise. Now I ask... Why? How can I know these terrible things? The mortal pain dismemberment brings In brutality my subconscious sings, black soul soaring on broken wings Choked, shot, stabbed, burned. All these scars I''ve honestly earned But crushed, drowned, speared and torn asunder? These are the pains that make me wonder Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Just how many times have I truly died? Memories of the soul trapped inside? Visions of a future meant to turn the tide? Or merely old pains brought to light? Forget the pain, though I never shall, we all know that I''m not fully well. What of the this absence of fear? Despite death drawing ever near I dream in rationale numeric, what surer sign is there that I''m ''sick?'' I know stress without worry, my critical mind refuses to hurry. Emotion has no place in my sleeping mind, even awake I must make the time to feel. Mundane reality such a boring meal. Loved once and never more, living in grey such a chore, my heart shattered without its paramour Was I always broken so deeply? A man with feelings? How unseemly. To ask is to answer, I once thought of love as a cancer. She grew my heart to record size but took it with her when she died And now I am hollow, the truth of my weakness bitter to swallow. I lived in life but a single day, how cruel it is to have that taken away. Resentment For those of you who did not know, I was once a man with purpose and singular goal I asked to serve without reserve, to find a calling that did deserve my skill, one that would allow me to quench this savage lust to kill I became a soldier and did all that within entailed, I trained and killed and thought I had prevailed for my foe was dead and I was not, that glorious state my talent had wrought Battle won, I journeyed home back to the town where I had grown And people asked me about my deeds, if I was haunted by what I''d seen "Not in the slightest, I am a man. Now that I''ve killed, I''d do it again." Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. And they were perturbed, not of my ''noble'' actions, but of my honest word Yet there was no horror in my actions to me, nor was there perverse insane glee It simply was. I was a state sanctioned murderer, to me it was no fuss. You should get some help, is what they all said. You don''t want these demons stuck inside your head. I drank the Kool-Aid, damned fool that I was. Just like that, my life came to dust. "I''ve killed and feel nothing, surely that is as it should be? How else can a soldier live their life with sanity?" With those questions, I was a soldier no more. Unfit to serve, a disgrace to the Corps Out of my home and onto the streets, ''for my own good'' I was homeless for weeks. Then came the drugs to ''normalize my thoughts,'' because of them I was locked in a box I lost everything. Home, job, friends, brothers, duty, money, honor, independence and time Years wasted away taking with them my body and mind. For my own good. Now it is three years later, my shame all the greater. Why did I ask for help? There was nothing wrong with me. Perhaps I''m the only sane man, living in a world of insanity. Holidays and Funerals Parasitic family cut fully from my life, always resurfacing to bring my yet more strife I care not for the pointless waste of faith you yourselves fail to cling to I hate these social obligations, this material garbage that you bring to my home, this place I''ve made my own outside your damning shadows inside of which I''ve grown If you actually cared you''d make the time instead of waiting for these holidays to bind us in a pointless contract of long forsaken faith, your ''spirituality'' is parody innate. My honest efforts were never enough, my goodwill always laughable and so snuffed But when you come here, against my express will, I''m expected to honor the bonds of our familial swill? Hypocrisy in a never ending game, these simplistic rituals driving me insane, you cast me aside because I rail against the grain, I speak my mind without you hearing me again, again, again. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Let me live, let me be, After all this time I''m FREE! Stop trying to drag me back into mediocrity. You raped my childhood with your impoverished complacency, the mindset that ''things will always be what they will be''. I have a chance at a future that I finally want to seize. Is it too much for you just to be happy for me? To let me be that man I''ve always wanted to be? Will you make me discard you all irrevocably? As much as I hate my past, you''re still my family. You molded me into this broken mockery, am I just the monster that you always thought of me? If so, what hope is there for thee? I won''t live that life, a no one NPC. I AM becoming the man I want to be regardless of what you see. I take this life for all it''s worth and seize my destiny, the one that I alone will shape into being. I''ll walk this path of toil and harmony, a man who embraces his nature''s curious duality. The warrior in pain, discarded and betrayed. The scholar of hungry mind, slowly become so sublime. A raging beast of potent wrath quenched by the artist''s noble path. Destruction and Creation, two halves of the ultimate whole. I would understand both to unburden my luminous soul, such lofty ideals my ultimately simple goal. So stop pestering me with you drivel, I don''t care. You can''t buy my love with things, put in the work, meet my eyes when I stare. I won''t turn my gaze from the truth, what I see sickens me and it should sicken you too. We''re all born and we all die, soon put in the ground. What matters more is what we do while we''re around. Rat Race A once-stranger from my long dead past, chanced up me lately and so he asked "Hey man, how''s work?" An innocent enough question, one hardly worth contention and so dismissed with the slightest of my attention "Just the usual, it''s fine. Another day of this same dull grind." And that was that all things were said, yet this brooding idea now lives in my head Wait a second, he doesn''t even know what I do for a job, for all he knows I twirl my hair into fuzzy swab He didn''t really care, I mean, Who does? We all have a job or three and so work becomes background buzz Living is pricey, we''ve gotta work if we wanna eat-- at least for those of us too honest to cheat But fundamentally, it''s all work isn''t it? We put in our hours right up until we quit. Doesn''t matter if that''s Farming, Writing, Building or Killing, us working plebs aren''t the one, we''re the million You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Doing the thankless jobs that keep it all holding together, yet some part of me thinks we could maybe do a little better We need to work smarter, not longer and harder, why should I slave and die to fill a Tyrant''s larder? The tools are there, the knowledge too, managers need to understand its PEOPLE who work under you Remove obstacles from our path, yet instead you create! Are you seriously that determined to be the target of our hate? You want us to ''put in the hours,'' not get the job done. This shit would never fly when I was under the gun. Workers are shot in the foot and expected to fly, no wonder most keep their heads down and work until they die. The difference between a wage that minimal and one that''s livable is downright laughable, my analytic mind keeps seeing these deliberate shortcoming that can only be tactical. Crush us with debt, force us out into the cold, after all desperation keeps the peasants from getting to bold. We have the means to set things gold, so why the hell does it feel like I''m being sold this same malnourishing lie that things will be better when I''m old? "Just stick things out, in a year or three or ten, things will work out for the best in the end." Like Hell they will, how stupid are you to honestly believe that swill? When all you do is roll over and take it with no end in sight, how do you sleep so alone and miserable at night? Oh right, you buy their drugs and self-medicate, because only we zonked out of your mind can you tolerate your fate But not me, I savagely proud in my poverty. I''m building resolve, resentment, that will one day see me free Of this unending slave-driver''s pace, because I''d sooner go back the Hell than stay in this Rat''s Race. The Tides of Fundy The tides of Fundy they crash down among me as I work this turbulent winter sea. And what a sea, holding such ancient mystery, nothing like my home of stone and snow and tree. There is bounty there, salty ocean fare, vast choice of treats for klicks around I race the sun when day''s begun, and at dark I make once more for solid ground. The days are long, the company abominable, such a peculiar lot those who love things nautical The usual workplace drama I can''t escape, surround by slackers and damned by my own competence, that''s just my fate. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Still on probation yet climbing fast, I''m better worked than the old leading lass, and now the offer to be first mate has been given to me. Dude, calm down I''m still rather green! Now the weather does turn and I am amazed, I can feel the seasons shift every time the winds do change. The sun beats down those wet morning haze and for knots around, in wonder I gaze at the majesty surrounding me, the waters, the coasts, those distant homey trees. Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink. Such dated saying still holds more relevance than you might think. For the sea is beautiful but she is also unforgiving. Those rocky ledges that so magnificently glitter would be all too happy to smash my boat to splinters. All those tasty snacks of the sea would be just as delighted to take a nibble out of me. These driving waves that power me home would conspire with giants to crush and grind down my bone. Even the ropes that are supposed to be friend are one misplaced limb away from delivering my end. Work the great tides of Fundy, its alright money, but remember this sonny The ocean has claimed millions of men and she''ll just as joyously do it again. Night Owl Returned to Darkness World weary, sickened in my heart and head I lounge this drizzling day away in bed Night falls as it always does, shadows stretch into something ominous and humanity dims its constant buzz And I can finally think, no longer am I frayed to the brink by exhaustion and fatigue, I draw a breath and pace these steps in relief for now and only now I am truly free The world slumbers and my soul soars, no longer crushed under blazing sun''s pressing roars There is peace in this solitude, yet something too complex to define as any one mood For my respite is also my prison, my future awaits, my past unforgiven What rest will I find? Do I deserve this fleeting peace? When will I understand what it means to ''just'' be me? Who knows? Who cares! I ponder at life while the world snores unawares. There is no pain in the dark, no prying eyes into my broken heart, and up above oh such stars! Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Yet melancholy is not so easily to dissuade, I see that this is how my efforts are repaid With betrayal, and hardship, and noble poverty. That anyone calls this justice is naught but mockery! Alone in the blackened halls I dance as only a fool can, from pains of life onto this ephemeral new plan To escape this life I''m forced to live, where all I do is give and give and give. When is it my turn to be praised? When shall I be saved? When shall I finally get anything other than misery by the spade? Why does the world bear down on me so? So much pressure with no room to grow. I need rest but there''s none left for me, and so from these manic heights I leap, into a new day hoping I might just keep, a scrap of the kindness I liberally heap, upon those around me each and every week. Why? I beg this toil inside to line up for processing yet it commands a tune and so I sing these frantic pleading notes, this same sad song I know by rote. And my soul bleeds for the warrior I used to be, striding under midnight hues instead of humming these same old blues. But oh, how I bleed. And oh, how I plead for the world to cast me free. This owl wasn''t born to a cage, he was born in tempest rage, amidst a schism for the dissemination of wisdom. Set me away from the day, let me out sometime to play and listen when I say That I am a healer who needs healing, forgotten lore that needs revealing and an ugly truth that''s damned appealing. For I am a night owl that has seen the sun returned to the night for a visit, and I long for the night, Oh how I miss it But the world now awakens and so too does its noise, the owls take shelter, the song loses voice For now, that''s what we''ll both pretend. Because everyone knows night will fall again. Shes Still Gone... This permanent empty ache within recedes, and with it my heart does start to bleed. The longing low, it hits me so, to once again see that lover whom I did know. My perfect darling it was she, the greater sum to the parts of me. Our love beyond space and time, I was hers and she was mine. And then she died. To feel nothing is a blessing and a curse. Yet I now again have the urge to verse. Because within this aching grows, what to do with it I do not know. The need to scream, to weep, to cry, the need I have to confide, in my better half no longer by my side. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. I am alone and yet I live. To see her once more, my life I''d gladly give. But that is not evident to be, I cling to the ashes of our razed family tree. The tighter I hold on the deeper it burns, to these dark barren places why do I constantly return? My darling so precious to me. Why was it fated for you to leave? When I feel anything all I feel is rage and grief. I know it''s not the memento you wanted me to see, but without you the world has lost its glee. Unyielding grey monotony. The waves of this life are not but savage seas. I miss you, yet the days come anew. I wake alone and life barges on through. Would that I could purge the urge to love you still, yet that task is a vast to even my ungodly will. We''re together in my dreams, dawn arrives and so decrees that we must again be parted thus I raise anew black-hearted... Because I am alone. And I have known what it was like when things weren''t thusly so. These places are not my home, I long to go where you have go''n. But you have my oath, I shan''t hasten my return to our damned blue-lit grove. Ever more onward I shall bound, no force on earth able to bear me down... Until I again can again hear your voice, down there in Hell I shall rejoice... because I know in my rotten life, you were my one good choice. One (salty) Pillar Stoic and self assured I''m a man of my word, so calm it sometimes perturbs, I''ve maybe once or twice heard, But when the going gets tough, I strut my stern stuff, I''ll be there dour and gruff, I alone am more than enough To bear the weight upon you. I''ve been through the shit, trust me I''ve seen it, no matter how hard the hit, I just can''t seem to quit, I''ll shoulder your weight its nothing next to mine, or should you want to debate I''ll bring the sweat of my mind, or if you just need to commiserate I''m not too man to cry. I''m the one you can count on time after time after time. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Because I''m made to see things through. I''ve destroyed enough in my days, more than my fair share. Those closest are so amazed just how much I care. I''m honored by the thoughts they deign to share, then I offer my own so seldom lain bare. And when it comes time to lay on the muscle, I''ll press my face to the load on the double. And when at times you''re not so sure, I''ll always chip in my honest word. And when at times you just need to vent, I''ve always got a spare ear to lend. Because I know how it feels to be so alone. I''m a pillar of salt on which you can rely, a disgruntled grunt too stubborn to die, a warrior poet of most discerning eye, an honest friend always by the by, the waiting gun when a man needs to die, or just the waiting shoulder if girl needs to cry. Above all, you can lean on me when life''s got ya down. So how''s about you return the favor next time around? Because no one pillar can stand alone forever, the only way we''ll ride out this damned crazy life, is if we do it together. Adventure I long to take a well-earned break, a chance to escape my wretched fate To know in life there is more, than these tediously bland old chore, minding yet another rich man''s store, while I am cast aside for naught but vore. I long to see the forests of old, to explore the lives that came before, and meet the folk of a simpler age. Those too humble for history''s page, what I seek is an adventure of yore, a solitary one which my own story might unfold. I would know the majesty of beach and tree, that I might quest out and reach the sea, for I know Gaia would greet with me, once I''ve fled these cities of greed. My quarrel is not with life but with my fellow man, it is they who tax upon all I am, few and fewer those who understand, that there are limits one can stand. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. This is my labor so take your fist from my pan, because I''ve been to where thieves lose their hand. Brutal as it is, it works. So don''t touch my things with that arrogant smirk, the sight alone will drive me berserk. Nature is so wondrous and full, why waste the time to be pointlessly cruel? So self assured in the rightness of their role, yet so easy to abscond from with a leisurely stroll. The forest does not judge, stone does not take. It costs nothing to simply swim in a lake. These cities are a prison, urbanization a mistake. Why is my Great White North so damned Concrete-Grey? Why is every opportunity locked behind closed gate? I can''t lay down my roots through the asphalt grade, can''t build a life in misery and hate, So I''m going on an adventure, I''d best bring my blade. Liberation! I wage slave for no man any more, to that chapter of my life I''ve slammed that door You arrogant lazy pricks can kindly fuck right off and suck my dick Cause I''ll not be your whipping boy, my mind body and life are not yours to destroy Gods! I''m once again free! I feel so unburdened, almost bereft of gravity Though I''ll miss the job and the sea, I''d only go back to make you fuckers bleed I legitimately despise my colleagues so if you''d please, go die in a house fire, and I mean that sincerely The work is so easy! How are you all that bad? How do you function in life? Your intelligence is honestly quite sad I JUST FUCKING LOVE getting lectured about the merits of thievery from a handful of Ukrainian refugees, and who''s bright idea was it to stick all the rich, bourgeoisie traitors and deserters with me? The honorable wounded warrior who would still give his life for his backstabbing country. Every day was a struggle not to have them "get lost at sea". Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. That''s to say nothing of the sheer arrogance always on display, you twats have the nerve to complain about your federally subsidized pay!?! "We thought Canada was a rich country, why is rent so expensive?" Asked the literal job-stealing refugees who outnumber Canadian workers 4-1. I could go on, but I haven''t that long. I could write novels about my idiot subordinate marvels. I should amend, it''s not with the collective populous of Eastern Europe that I contend. It is with six individuals that I have beef, six traitorous arrogant morons undeserving of teeth. They are the worst of the worst, it beggars belief. They are fighting-age men who speak proudly of leaving their families and friends destitute in a warzone, with no intent of going back. They joke and smoke and brag about what they stole when they abandoned their country and duty, these vermin deserve not one inch of slack. I digress from that tangent, my rage is still fresh. From each of those bastards, I''m owed pounds of flesh. But I will settle for never seeing them again, unless they''re shot dead or skewered down length of my blade. Because my time with them and the job is now in the past, I''m already moving forward and moving fast. Months of longing and hatred all pent up inside, I''m burning like a rocket, I''m all set to fly. I''ve got my fuel, I''ve rekindled my fire, now all that remains is to manifest my desire. Unburdened Bruised and bloody I press on, upon my lips an eerie song The words never firmly form, yet somehow leave me warm And so I hum deep and true from the heart, even as my failing flesh falls apart These pieces of me were meant to be discarded, this constant agony is best left disregarded That broken shade is no longer me and now without him I know glee Unburdened by the compulsions of an honorable man How freeing it is to be a monster with cunning plan If being nice is what got me here, then deferent kindness can disappear! For so long I''ve been aiding others while damning myself, so now you parasites can all go to Hell Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. I destroyed my body for you and spent my fleeting sanity too Now all that''s left is my indomitable spirit bleeding through I''m done running myself ragged for your play when you won''t even give my needs the time of day I still want to help you, I''d wish you all the best, but I know you fucking vultures are counting my breaths So feel free to drop dead yourselves, your doing just fine with that, don''t need my help Don''t you dare try to drag me down, you dug this grave so get in the damned ground I only hope that when you get what''s yours that I''ll around to smile and know, to say ''I told you so'' And so another piece of me falls away, there''s less and less of me day by day I''m told there''s iron at the heart of our star, that only in the crucible do we learn what we truly are Yet I think I''ve always sort of known what I am under malformed flesh and crumbling bone I''m Genuine, Wise, and just a touch Bizarre. I laugh at my misery to spite all my scar I plot and I scheme to keep entertain, that''s just one way I cope with the pain So bugger right off and find someone else to drain, I may live for fiction but I''m dreadfully sane I won''t tolerate any more predation, so leave me to my harmless recreation Else you shall fall prey to tenfold retaliation and learn the truth of the word desolation. The Great Green Yonder Glory hail! Against life''s sorrows I rale. Before me unfurl the vast wonderous world With steady saunter we make for that great green yonder I''ve found in steel a willing accomplice, a grumbling companion with who I might accomplish The discovery of my dreams, now free of cursed enthralling screens That unliving endless glow which once captivated oh so This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Is no longer my only friend, my time imprisoned now at an end This iron steed has warmed to me and now together we race freely towards to horizon chasing the next mystery Of what lies beyond the bends and hills? Beyond mountain forest or tundra plains? We''re always chasing thrills. Together in quite sympathy, the open road, this iron steed and me. Alone, yet one in harmony. Profound peace and joy fall unto me. For I can go where and when I please; no drama, no betrayal, no trickeries. The world is wider now with this iron steed, no longer bound to familiar streets. A taste of the nomad awakens in me, yet I will always recall the roots of mine tree. For wherever I roam the spirit of home goes with me, So to wonderous Canada I proclaim, Glory to Thee! I hope you stay lonely I was never yours and you weren''t mine, but I''d think of you from time to time And when I did all that came to mind was a simple life so sublime You''d bake for me, I''d sing for thee, we''d both recite bad poetry I''d be your devil, you''d be my saint, our studio? splattered with paint When I get home yeah you''d be there, prancing around in your underwear And when a bug gives you a scare, in a heartbeat I''d be there Because you know that I care. Now your off with some other guy, when it comes to me you''ve got no time I thought maybe you could teach me to love again, and now you don''t even want to be my friend? Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. This is the thanks I get for standing by your side? For shoveling tons of your shit in stride? What changed, oh right, you started riding a new dick, one attached to a possessive lunatic Move away, quit your job, have no one but him, base your entire life around his beck and whim Abandon your family, forsake your friends, give up your art, why can''t you see he''s tearing your life apart? He knows what he''s doing, he''s half again your age. For fuck''s sake girl, he''s got a myspace page! I''ve always known you were kind of vapid, bouncing from this and losing that hella rapid But is he really worth sacrificing everything else for? Career, Friends, Hobbies, Passion; all no more. Was I nothing but the odd free meal, sound counselling and a set of wheels? You were evidently lying when you said you wanted to be with me, but what about the future you convinced me to see? I fell for your girlish game, I exposed year''s old pain, yet you just walk away and I think it a shame Because now you''ll get what you deserve, you picked a lying snake over a man of his word Someone who knows you will cheat since he stole you from another Someone who will isolate you then leave you a single mother When that day comes, I won''t be around, I''ve returned my heart to ash-blackened ground I thought we might be more but I was wrong, so have fun with your cheating groomer, that''s right where you belong. Legacy Once more I come around again, to the town that lies on river''s bend Why am I summoned back by siren''s song, to see where my life went so wrong. It haunts me still this quite place, it haunts me and how my soul does ache Because I long for solitude I can no longer embrace, without and within I feel so displaced I long once more for my familiar Hell, to be back in this town without you makes me unwell You were my home and always will be, how is it that without you I can''t just be me? Who am I without love, this life is abyss. Yet they always wonder why I''m such a pessimist. In love and in life, one failure after the next, to be a man in such trying times is to know powerlessness I asked to serve, in time was betrayed. All to often I see how veterans are repaid. And now on this November day for my brother''s long gone, I feel lifeless and hollow that I must go on It''s not that I don''t want to live another day, I just want to live without all this pain. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Now they string up my uncle''s face, a fallen soldier in honored place, and here I am a soldier fallen into disgrace. "Thank you for your service." Such empty words. A worthless platitude spewed from idling herds. What my family fought for has been forsaken, insidious cancer at the heart of my nation. A people divided, our lands despoiled, no hope for the future but unending toil. A loving wife? A family home? You will get nothing except your life on loan. Was this what my uncle gave his life for? A poor country farmer fighting the rich man''s war. Myself in kind, my life on the line and for what? A paycheck. Not even enough to meet ends meet. Why does this ''life worth living'' feel like a sullen retreat? A paycheck. Not for the family taken from me. My life not for home and hearth but for plutocracy!? Madness. Why do I do this to myself? I know that overthinking never really helps. I can''t close my eyes to evil strangling my old home, my throat feels the rich man''s boot while he sits on the throne. Would that I was free to indulge in wanton devilry. I would give my death the meaning life has denied me. Inside of every man there are but two dreams. The first, to be held, to love, to hear ''you''ve done enough'' The second, to smash upon the injustices of the world, to stand iconic in defiance and have your voice heard to loose outwards a lifetime of rage and to leave your mark upon history''s page. On this day of armistice, the crowds look to me. Some few thank the fallen so we could be free. But the truth is known to us fallen leaves. The time draws near to once again water the tree of liberty. It is watered with the blood of patriots and tyrants but patriots are few and far between. I guess it''s a good thing that there are tyrants as far as the eye can see. I look once more to my uncle''s face and I think I know how he felt back in the day. Proud, to fight the enemy of all that he loves. To enforce the peace so lauded by the doves. Whither Right and Glory lead - Ubique! Objectivity Something recently occurred to me, along the topic of objectivity A means to dispel my own deceptions, the subtle bias upon my own perceptions I keep comparing the actions of other to myself and while I''m not exactly top-shelf A lot of you ''tards set the bar as a tripping hazard in Hell, and to clear it you dipshits STILL need some help Thus I drop my comparisons and simply observe, no ''me vs you'' just them as they were And still I''m impressed with a side of dread, as I wonder if anything goes on inside that head I swear, some of you have the IQ on par with room-temperature bread... A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. A person can be smart yet people are always dumb. Why must the multitude be more foolish than one? I''m far from perfect, I''ll be the first to admit, about many things I know exactly jackshit I''m no chess master, just an old cannon blaster Yet I ponder and question all things thus slowly I gather the answers that questions bring And so I am wiser than before and then I only want to know even more So it is and so it goes, and as it is I reap what I sow Then I look outwards and see you sow nothing, you simply exist and do hardly a thing Your accomplishments? None. Your experiences? Dull. You''ve malingered through life without any goal And now you rest on imagined laurels of old, in your mind you''ve already gone and won the gold so why exert yourself now? Why bother learning the what, when or how? You merely exist and take up space, and in your arrogance you speak down to my face? To me of all people? Who has killed and created, loved and lost, traveled far and come home at great cost. It''s almost funny, how pitiful you are. You claim I know and done nothing then gawk at my scars. You create nothing but contempt and strife, so I ask, you call that a life? Ubique To be teased and taunted is the soldier''s game, tis just one tool that keeps us sharp as we muddle under pain We are the stove-pipe boys, the back-line grunts, the cannoneers so oft called dumb We are the kings of battle. The Royal Artillery! When Armor''s stuck in sand and mud-- We shall rain a burning flood. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. When Infanteers'' are ambushed at night-- We shall bring them glorious light. When Engineers'' push hard and fast-- We shall graciously cover their ass. We''re just over the hill, supporting you when no one else will. Because we are here and we are everywhere. Wherever death and glory lead you shall find the Artillery. The last line of defense and the first ones on call, so long as we''ve got ammo we shall not fall. Because we are the King''s own guns, his pride and his name, in iron and flame. We do not run. We are stalwart. The Guns, The Guns, The Guns! Think no less of me Death surrounds, inevitable it comes as it may please, Through violence or age or of oft disease Just this dawn I''ve had another taken from me, so I must once again face within a truly ugly beast Because my aunt has died and I feel nothing I was the last to learn, ''We knew you could wait, you''re tough.'' Why is it that you think that makes it just? I can''t fault your logic, I am a man of fact, but somehow you actions smack of dubious respect Because of my strength I must bear these great burdens? Must I always be the man forced to endure then? Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. When can I lay down my suffering and just rest? Why, for other''s sake, must I always be at my best? I''m not okay. I still dieing, day by day. Who comes to care for me? Who comes of my so-called Family? No one. Why am I so disgusted with myself for being what you made me? Why can''t I tend my needs without this restless guilt? Why must I provide but never be provided for? Was this pack of parasites what I gave my ''best'' years for? My aunt is dead and I felt nothing, so why do I hate myself? Why do I loathe this heartless monster you forced me to become!? Why after this insult to my character do you expect me to lead the funeral charge!? Why must I fight your battles unsupported? Because I was a mistake you wanted aborted!? Because you hated yourselves and thrust that shame until me? Why can''t I cut you away and just be free? My aunt is dead... so why is this about me? You loved her didn''t you? But you hate yourselves more, isn''t that right? Damaged Goods Upon this very night I''ve had a pleasant first in my life! I have laughed so fervently that tears have left my eyes A silly thing I know, barely a spectacle let alone a show, but that''s just the way my life seems to go Because I''m fraying at the seems with all this weight that''s crushing me But it was nice to feel the breath squeezed out of me, to laugh and laugh and laugh until I could only wheeze When the stoic starts to smile, you know its been eating him a while When those calm clouds on the horizon grumble of coming storm, you know that when it hits you''ll regret the day you''s born This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The dam is overfull and cracking fit to blow, the sleeping giants start stirring under blankets of snow And all Hell is getting fit to break loose, because an oft grumpy man is now a silly goose The mask of outer calm I wear in worn clear down to threadbare, and through the growing cracks you see a glimpse within to hungry beast My peace has been destroyed and no sternly-worded letter shall suffice, indulging in spasmodic bloodlust is staring to look rather nice Because I am owed my pound of flesh, I tried playing nice but you keep begging for death And I''m sorely tempted to oblige, regrettably you life is not worth mine I have to walk away yet again, because its ALWAYS me who has to be the bigger man. Never once will you fucking twats defer to me, you simply strut about in arrogant ignorant idiocy The fact of the matter you''re too fucking stupid to see, is that I''ve been trying to help you The reward for my selfish selflessness? The past three months of the absolute shit I''ve been through... I was right not to trust you and I won''t let you dictate the terms of my life! You''re supposed to be my elder, stop acting like you''re fucking five! The Axe Forgets You always said I was strong and I guess that its true... but I''m not strong enough, to keep putting up with you You''re running in place as life passes you by, you feel so damn worthless and can''t figure out why You''re a burden, a nuisance, a real waste of space. Then you have the nerve to throw that in my face when I help you, out. You just drag me down. I''ve got no concerns, I''m a man of my word. When I say I''ll be there you know what that''s worth The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. But there''s only so much in my power to change, and I can''t fix your life when you are to blame for your circumstance. You don''t get one more, chance. You always said I was strong and I guess that its true... but I''m not strong enough, to keep putting up with you While life passed you by I went with the flow, I learned and I fought and then I was all grown My heart it grew cold, my skin got so thick, cause you were so weak that it made me sick Then you left me to die. Now you wonder why? I grew up in advance. You don''t get one more, chance. You''ve got your concerns, never honor your word. When I come back around, all I get is burned. There''s so much within, your power to change. All you need to do admit you''re to blame. The axe may forget, why it gets what it gets. The tree remembers, who felled it''s bhur. You always said I was strong and I guess that its true But I''m not strong enough, to keep putting up with you. Living the Dream I''m trapped with a monster, he''s inside my head, always beating me down, always wishing me dead So I live with pain deep inside of my brain, and it''s an uphill fight. Just. To. Stay. Sane! He''s keeping me from sleeping almost every night, so my days are a daze all sleep-deprived I''m living the dream with this parasite, and I need to know if I really alive!?! Living the Dream! In the is fucking Nightmare Living the Dream! In a world that ain''t Fair Living the Dream! Probably should be Scared The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Living the Dream! But I just don''t Care! I''m living with these animals, these damned inbreeds. All they ever do is bite the hand that feeds Burning the world to appease their greed, no one gives a fuck about a working man''s needs! So just back and observe the screen, you can always trust your good friend T.V. And just like that, they''ve bought your loyalty. You sold your soul and you sold it Cheap! Living the Dream! Too late to turn Tide. Living the Dream! This morale Suicide. Living the Dream! Already dead Inside. Living the Dream! Where. Is. Your. Pride!?! WAKE UP!!! I live with a monster and he''s keeping me strong. He''s been whispering to me says it''s the world that wrong! Got the world in decline and we all know why! The rich are get richer while the poor folk die! You''re living their dream with no end in sight, and once you''ve opened your eyes you''ll be terrified! Living the Dream! And I wanna wake Up! Living the Dream! I''m done being Stuck! Living the Dream! It''s time to give a Fuck! So If you''re really alive, why don''t you get up and fight?