Post by War on May 1, 2014 17:17:04 GMT
"The years I've spent with my memories,
I cannot see a fruitful end.
There is no saint or God to guide me,
Not a soul to call a friend.
You treat your words like lethal knives
This place reduced to heath.
No longer I'll sit, idle with time
I'm ready to bare my teeth.
My eyes are front, so they see
My feet sounding in the halls
These voices I hear cannot agree
I fear, I must heed the call
I'd forgotten my oaths upon my name
,
that I will amend.
With my Bloody, Moonlight, Blade -
I'll fight to the Bitter End."
Tell me what kind of feeling you get from this. I wrote it as a kind of theme for one of my characters, felt like it fit him considerably well. Thanks guys.
I cannot see a fruitful end.
There is no saint or God to guide me,
Not a soul to call a friend.
You treat your words like lethal knives
This place reduced to heath.
No longer I'll sit, idle with time
I'm ready to bare my teeth.
My eyes are front, so they see
My feet sounding in the halls
These voices I hear cannot agree
I fear, I must heed the call
I'd forgotten my oaths upon my name
,
that I will amend.
With my Bloody, Moonlight, Blade -
I'll fight to the Bitter End."
Tell me what kind of feeling you get from this. I wrote it as a kind of theme for one of my characters, felt like it fit him considerably well. Thanks guys.
