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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1755041-Jester
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by Jaegr Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Other · #1755041
Another taken from the pages of my rambling journals.
I wanna be me, I can't care about lies, I'm sick of these decptions that knot my insides...guilty as the jester at the King's funeral pire, my purpose is clear, my drive is desire...if you stand in my way I promise hard lessons...you my friend will regret these sessions... I'm not in it for fortune, money nor fame...this rhyme is not words its the tip of my flame...

Hot like ambers tossed from this fire, the walk down this path will burn with desire...I'll stand against those who wish me ill, for my life is not yours, it's mine to fufill...

The days are long and the nights are cold, keep that heat that burns in your soul...bloody knuckles and hands, torn from the climb, help mold like clay this new grand design. Layer by layer and inch by inch, if I thought this a dream, I'd forgoe the pinch...I dont wanna wake up, please let me sleep...for here in my world, there's no reason to weep....I wanna stay here with my poisonous pen, the ink that flows; my caustic friend...

Kicking rocks and skipping stones, across the fields of forgotten bones I watch with pause as many fall, the inevitable echoes..'come one, come all'...I'll take that fight, I'll draw my sword, step to me and meet your Lord...Im scarred and bloodied, torn and meek, but dont make the mistake of thinking me weak...the hollow swirls like yesterdays death, stealing my nerves and holding my breath...the collapse of reason in this forgone season makes that which I aim for the upmost in treason...If I fail this time the gallows await...'fuck you!' I grumble as pick up my pace...drawing my sword and launching in air, I forget all about that which I used to care, being this close makes death very real...well here it is...my sharpened steel...taste my blade on bended knee...for I'm sending you home, courtesty of me...

More battles await through this straightened gate, the enemies of purpose aligning like fate...I'll wipe the blood from this seasoned blade, unwilling and unable to die and fade...so step forward ye' warriors, step forward and die...this is my world, meet MY battle cry!

The armies will charge against my shield, the greeting of death their only yield...as I slay each one my purpose becomes clearer, with each slain enemy my utopia draws nearer...so tell me how I'm destined to ruin, the goal at my end not worth my pursuing...tell me how I'm wrong and misled...tell me how it's all in my head...tell me why I'm wasting my breath, and I'll show you how to meet a quick death.
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