Father, please forgive us We know not what we do We’re lost right now and yet somehow We still reach out to you Perhaps it’s desperation A required, soft respite No matter case, look at my face You’re needed now, tonight Your creation got creative It took hold of the reigns And yet I fear … More Father, Forgive
Let’s look back You know, real far Let’s look at us See how we are Angry crusades? Alright, I guess Pick up those pieces you all left Now jihad, we need one, right? We all need reasons for a fight 🙄 For Allah! For God above! But wait! Wait, we all preach to love Turn … More Generation Jaded
Though you are gone, I won’t forget For you are still among us, yet Whispering your wise old words As I sit listening, among the birds I look to you. Look up, you see? I stand before you on my knee Grateful for the words you gave On how to love, how to behave Tacitus, … More We Are One
Seven cities, froze in time, sit upon this realm of mine I gave them will and stopped ‘fore eight, and rest to watch what I create I let them build and make their own, and don’t influence how they’ve grown City One seems to dictate, and writes that rights are of the state What the … More Seven Cities, Froze in Time
My dearest Lilliana, Not a day goes by without my thoughts eventually falling upon you. Those carefree, restless nights spent together I always think of as I sit here in the trenches, covered in the grit and dirt that this advance has cast over me. Every day we are inching forward, further and further as … More Letter to My Lost: 2
My love. My all. Such memories do we share. Memories such as the times we’d awaken to the sun’s shimmering rays darting through the window, on those soft linen sheets as you’d rollover, greeting me with the morning’s first kiss. Memories of your fingers gently gliding, cusping the back of my neck, holding me as … More Letter to My Lost: 1
Gavin Yulesdale, Infantryman of the Queen’s Army The wind, gently whistling through the trees is but the softest of sounds. Yet tonight, on the eve of this great battle, it is deafening; the only thing that can be heard amidst an army veiled by the silence of anticipation. The skirmishes always seem to transpire in … More On the Eve: 11
