Good luck with this one, sorry it's so long, i just got carried away.. did not work too much on it either, i wanted to post something before the end of the day but had lotsa work lolzz
Because of my inability to win,
I went into exile and was forgotten by most.
Till this moment I am feeling Grim,
All day, all I see is my personal curse.
There’s a love, nay, a passion they once had,
Today I feel have been replaced,
By the riotous rumbling of this world,
And the un-ending motion of the populace.
My joy has gone to pain,
And love for me has fell into disregard,
In this world filled with brains,
This peace less world plunged in disorder.
I blame the gods and the heavens,
For never have they shown them their presence.
But I hope someday I will be reborn,
From fire to ashes I shall be known.
My weakness is just what I bear,
My remorse is what I carry.
And today needles to say, I see my heir,
Will one day end up weary.
Of all the stories I tell, the words I spell,
Only on me will they ever impact.
For this I must say is my quarrel,
That my being, for a few only, was ever left intact.
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Good luck with this one, sorry it's so long, i just got carried away.. did not work too much on it either, i wanted to post something before the end of the day but had lotsa work lolzz
Because of my inability to win,
I went into exile and was forgotten by most.
Till this moment I am feeling Grim,
All day, all I see is my personal curse.
There’s a love, nay, a passion they once had,
Today I feel have been replaced,
By the riotous rumbling of this world,
And the un-ending motion of the populace.
My joy has gone to pain,
And love for me has fell into disregard,
In this world filled with brains,
This peace less world plunged in disorder.
I blame the gods and the heavens,
For never have they shown them their presence.
But I hope someday I will be reborn,
From fire to ashes I shall be known.
My weakness is just what I bear,
My remorse is what I carry.
And today needles to say, I see my heir,
Will one day end up weary.
Of all the stories I tell, the words I spell,
Only on me will they ever impact.
For this I must say is my quarrel,
That my being, for a few only, was ever left intact.
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