Seventy Two HoursSeventy Two Hours.More Like This
I started with just one.
He looked cute.
But he was strong.
Together we journeyed.
Made new friends, won challenges
Sought them all, Fought Them All, and Caught Them All
For Thirty Hours
Then I faced five foes
Beyond the common eight
Their strength was unparalleled
And so I trained
For ten hours.
The battle was fierce
Both sides made a show
In the end, a Blizzard
Ended it all
I was the champion
In forty hours.
But there was a whole new world
On the other side
With new places to explore
Friends to make
Challenges to overcome
Twenty hours of them
In the end, there was only one.
Red, who stood atop his mountain.
The only one worth facing.
Worth training for twelve hours.
And so, at Seventy Two hours, I faced Red.
In an impossible battle.
Comrades fell, rose and did the impossible.
Until the last Cross Chop hit.
And here I am.
At the end of
A Seventy Two Hour
and twelve year
Now that I am at the top
I might become just like
A _____ Full of ConundrumDoes the heart abuse?More Like This
Or is it the mind that wills
our deepest sufferings?
Surface DwellerWedged deep in sickening conception,More Like This
a lack of exit is what I fear
to remain neck deep within these fetters
with her voice precariously near
One slip, one fall
could demolish my successions
and if I am not careful,
my amour, victim towards depression
An epitome of delirium,
she allures, adorned in gloom
Reaping disheartening confessions
each uproar towards her tomb
She's alive within every surface,
I confront her everyday
I strive to greet those eyes with certainty
when she trespasses my way
At Arm's LengthThe wise can love at arm's distance,More Like This
without remorse, they are impeccable
They will themselves a life without deception
with perception of contortions and virtue
And they speak with eloquence--
composed of polished crescendos
acknowledging that happiness,
can't be derived by labels
but by actions
The FramesNow, they say there never was a "you" to begin with.More Like This
[The mirrors told me that all the time, but after all
Quicksilver is not an element to be trusted so easily,
You always said that.]
It was as if emptiness had ears to listen with
And a disapproving gaze to pierce me with.
And I could hear a soft laughter rebound on the walls.
[oh so stealthily, so silently]
I never was a tidy person,
And you knew that far too well.
I would leave things be and procrastinate until disorder became a self-conscious fiend threatening my health,
But still, it would not worry me.
Eventually, I noticed.
"This shouldn't belong here I had gotten rid of this idiocy long ago."
[That was your first step]
You silently crept upstairs, where I kept my unused feelings and abandoned beliefs and put them back on my shelves in shiny frames.
And they blended in so well,
For evil intentions wear an excellent camouflage.
Wicked DeceptionPerhaps you could rouse my sweet vulnerabilities,More Like This
I've missed them dearly--
For he whose greed had his best interests,
unleashed havoc upon a virtuous gem
that once belonged to me
I fear this connection,
shall never fate to be impeccable
and the disdain I've hidden,
apparent from you,
I dread to conceive
that love's a wicked deception
and perhaps the ardor
which you perceive
is purely a misconception
Fearful MisconceptionsMy last intentions are misconceptions,More Like This
I fear I could tear you apart
Affections shift to illusions
or perhaps it's my delusion
for I couldn't bear tyrannizing your heart
If passions arise too fast
may my greed not strike you down
for I do not wish this bond to be insatiable
But if time flees out of spite,
I anticipate my amour, virtuous and bright
and never may your countenance be graced
Mr. Universe.Baby, you don't know where my mind has been,More Like This
Things I've seen make politicians quake more than on election day,
You can say that I lost and found simultaneously, this here's a tragedy,
I'm a malady in my conventions, pieces keep falling from the core I call a soul,
But I've been told that somewhere there's a place for people like me,
Because we're the product of broken homes and genocides, padded rooms being where we belong,
We sing world songs and end realities, cause we're the ones they call crazy,
I'm loopy because I count the number of petals on dandelions,
Because crying isn't something I can do anymore,
So beyond that steel door I lurk, hidden away because they don't want to know this man exists aytime soon,
Thus, my eyes and soul flicked up to the moon and stars,
I've been to both Jupiter and Mars, the Horse Head nebula and Bag End, The Shire,
I've been to boggy mires and crime scenes, I've read Nietzsche and Kant,
I've sifted through Hilary Clinton's dreams and lush copper vein