Failure

I feel nothing
But lame
No one cares
If I get fame

Feeling cold
And wretched
No one
Understands
Just want
To be alone

I feel nothing
But shame
I couldn't save her
Now I'm to blame

Feeling cold
And wretched
No one
Understands
Just want
To be alone


Please, go
On without me
You'll be better
Off without
Me there.

Christmas


The colourful lights,
The holiday cheer,
It's gift-giving time
It's finally here!

Falling is the carol
Of the Silver Bells
Throughout the North
The cheering of elves

Saint Nick is coming,
Just like every year,
Presents he’s bringing
“Ho, ho, ho,” you’ll hear!

Falling is the carol
Of the Silver Bells
Throughout the North
The singing of elves


But Christmas is more
Than Santa and presents
It's more about family
You know, your relatives!
Thank them, if they're here
Thank them, if they're not
Because they're special
And the only ones you've got.

Melancholy


The world is gray
And my heart feels
As if it will fade away
From the loneliness
In which it reels

Nothing is happy
Unless she is here
Because when we talk
It melts away the fear

A piece of me
Feels ripped away
And I can't help
But wonder if
She is okay

Nothing is happy
Everything's drear
Because when we talk
I hold her counsel dear

I want her
To say that
She is alright
Because I can't
Be happy without
Some form of light.

Rainfall


Rain, rain,
Don't go away
For here is where
My love and I will stay

Our clothes may get soaked
But it wouldn't bother me.
They'll be dry by morning
When we both arise

We'll meet in the rain again,
Dancing the night away
The keys to our heart-chains
Unlocking our love that day

We may meet tomorrow,
But know not what it brings
We may dance once more
In the wet, frigid breeze

Rain, rain,
Don't go away
My love is here,
With me forever to stay

The Blood Moon is rising,
And so are the undead
Beware of the Red Night
For it fills all with dread!

Load up your Space Guns
And drink up your pots
Try and survive as
You fill them with shots!

The Blood Moon has risen,
As have the undead
The Dripplers are flying
And coming for your head!

The Groom and the Bride
Are coming tonight
But not for a wedding
No, just shoot them on sight!

The Blood Moon is gone,
As are the undead,
Let’s regroup now
And kill the Eye instead!

White halls,
Padded walls,
The minds
In these cells
Have taken
Their fall

The screams
Fill the walls,
The sterile
White halls,
All the people
Who live here
Are “monsters”
To all

Hallucinations,
Imaginations,
Insantizations,
All chained up
Hiding from the
Pain in them all

“Please, don’t
Mind them,”
They say,
“Don’t worry,
They’re all
Going insane,
Anyways.”

The Song of The Ocean


The Song of The Ocean
Is soft and calm
It has small choirs
Beneath the waves
And it is when night falls
That they begin to sing

They sing of a time
When hospitality
Was prime
And they sing of a day
When the Sea-people
Will say “Welcome home”
To their King and Queen
Forever to stay

The Song of The Ocean
Is strong but sweet
Those choirs beneath
Fall back asleep
When the sun
Rises in the morn
But it is when night falls
That they begin to sing

They sing of a life
Of pain
And of strife
And they sing of a day
When the Sea-people
Will say “Begone!”
From the evil that
Lies from far
And beyond

The Song of The Ocean
Is beautiful and sad
But it tells of the Storytellers
Who saved the Great Lands

I Once Had a Dream of A Girl


I once had a dream of a girl,
A spawn of the ocean,
A gleaming pearl

She had chocolate eyes,
And raven-black hair,
And a smile to which
None can compare

This girl was beautiful,
In body and mind,
But no one cared for her,
So I craved for her to be mine

She seemed to be distant,
Not like anyone else,
She was resistant
And shamed,
But I didn't mind

This girl loved others
Like I love her,
She had sisters and brothers,
All with love for her

I love this girl,
For she's a proud friend
For all of us siblings,
Ready to defend

She lives a life
Of despair and strife,
But she makes it through,
Knowing that I'm there

To cry on my shoulder,
To wipe away my tears,
To help each other overcome
All our greatest fears....


I once had a dream of a girl,
The spawn of the ocean,
A gleaming pearl...

I see a square peg.
You know, that thing
That doesn’t fit
In a circular hole?

Yeah, that thing.
I see myself as that.
I’m not the same
As all the other pegs,
Which are round
And fit in perfectly
Into a hole designed
To their shape.


I’m that square peg,
Made of wood that is
Easily chipped at
And could be made into
A round peg,
But the carpenter has decided
That this wood is not suitable
For chipping away at,
And has put this square peg
Away in a drawer for later use.
Perhaps, someday,
All of the square pegs
Will be in the drawer,
Not just me.

All the other square pegs
Are similar, but none
Are the same grain of wood.
Some are from the core of the log,
and others the outermost area.
But all are like me: a square peg
That doesn’t fit in a circular hole.

Love these days is just...I dunno.


I’m not sure what love is, really, aside from kisses and hugs, your face blushing and your heart racing when you look at that one person who you feel is the one.

It depends on which kind you’re talking about, the kind you feel when you see that one girl in the lunchroom, or the kind you feel when your own mother holds you to her bosom, letting you fall asleep on the couch with her, I suppose.


You have to think about it, I guess is what I’m saying. You have to ask yourself, “Huh, I wonder if that girl in my lunchroom is really worth it or not?” or, “Hm, that guy looks cute, I wonder if he thinks the same about me?”.

It’s a matter of seeing past all of the outside parts, such as the hair, face, butt-chin, or broken nose, and looking into the person’s heart, because as they say, “It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

The face.
It’s pale like mine
With tamale-coloured short hair
Dangling in front of it.

Beneath it sit two bright blue eyes
And a nose that seems too thin for it,
And pink, soft lips
That have seen their fair share
Of chapping and lipstick.


This face isn’t the prettiest,
With all its sores, blemishes,
And creases,
But I feel that it is beautiful,
With or without makeup.
Nothing can compare
To the woman’s face,
And you know
Whose face that is?


This face belongs
To my mother,
The one who brought
Me into the world.

If it weren’t for this face,
I wouldn’t be here
To write about it,
Now, would I?