Post by darkhyuuga on May 4, 2008 0:31:42 GMT -5
cause i'm so frenching bored.... hmm i'm not taking it serious but its fun to see what comes up....
“The song you have just whispered in my ear…
((((Sounded like a battle cry)))
I found my resolve the itch that makes me hungrier
Sweet and peaceful, even though my urges flow, my body is breaking apart.
We were stuck in this place and unfortunately it’s made me cold.
I reach out for your hand and it’s the stretch that makes my body ache.
My blade grinds against the gravel, screeching as it displaces blood stained sediments.
My hand is left out, rough and callous, stained and broken.
Not being able to forget this state, I feel pitiful.
I want to forget this language of steel and pain.
Until now the glass wall between us has been our enemy.
Preface
The train, space ship, and caravan of youth & innocence which were all one in the same, departed in different times. The caravan of innocence that had once captivated the heart of many a child and senior alike departed first. Leaving a troupe of heartless, self indulgent, yet vain and deceptive circus folk in its midst. The space ship, the vehicle that was once destined for out of bounds exploration left secondly, disappointing yet amusing many with its ability to fool intelligence and baffle reason. And the train, which held the regret and hope of future loves and loyalties left last. The intervals of these leavings however were not physical yet spiritual, metaphorical periods. Weeks or days that contained a malleable luster that was all but subtle on the course of any other day. Days like these, when a world famous circus trope such as the Jean Hyde Company of Fantastical Engineering were economical boosts, romantic trials and errors, golden ages, and even ages of faith. The members of such a troupe were regarded and worshipped; their bodies idolized their eyes pearls of phosphorus perfection, their guild tattoos symbols of superiority. One could say that what made these days shine was the romantic travails that the towns people experienced in there attempts to capture the hearts of a JHCFE member; who in turn were not only identified with wealth and luxury but danger and risk. Legendary were the men of the Company of Fantastical Engineering, whose words dishonored maidens and charmed serpents. And feared were the women of the troupe, whose beauty and savage sense of vengeance empowered housewives across the world.
Scientists and artisans, devils yet gods, the elite, the superior, the beautiful crafters of fiction known as JHCFE circus folk, unfortunately were not the idled men and woman that the world, nor time seen them as. But victims; lambs, living beings of eroded history and whose lives remained stones left unturned, while lichens of sub rosa dwelled.
“The song you have just whispered in my ear…
((((Sounded like a battle cry)))
I found my resolve the itch that makes me hungrier
Sweet and peaceful, even though my urges flow, my body is breaking apart.
We were stuck in this place and unfortunately it’s made me cold.
I reach out for your hand and it’s the stretch that makes my body ache.
My blade grinds against the gravel, screeching as it displaces blood stained sediments.
My hand is left out, rough and callous, stained and broken.
Not being able to forget this state, I feel pitiful.
I want to forget this language of steel and pain.
Until now the glass wall between us has been our enemy.
Preface
The train, space ship, and caravan of youth & innocence which were all one in the same, departed in different times. The caravan of innocence that had once captivated the heart of many a child and senior alike departed first. Leaving a troupe of heartless, self indulgent, yet vain and deceptive circus folk in its midst. The space ship, the vehicle that was once destined for out of bounds exploration left secondly, disappointing yet amusing many with its ability to fool intelligence and baffle reason. And the train, which held the regret and hope of future loves and loyalties left last. The intervals of these leavings however were not physical yet spiritual, metaphorical periods. Weeks or days that contained a malleable luster that was all but subtle on the course of any other day. Days like these, when a world famous circus trope such as the Jean Hyde Company of Fantastical Engineering were economical boosts, romantic trials and errors, golden ages, and even ages of faith. The members of such a troupe were regarded and worshipped; their bodies idolized their eyes pearls of phosphorus perfection, their guild tattoos symbols of superiority. One could say that what made these days shine was the romantic travails that the towns people experienced in there attempts to capture the hearts of a JHCFE member; who in turn were not only identified with wealth and luxury but danger and risk. Legendary were the men of the Company of Fantastical Engineering, whose words dishonored maidens and charmed serpents. And feared were the women of the troupe, whose beauty and savage sense of vengeance empowered housewives across the world.
Scientists and artisans, devils yet gods, the elite, the superior, the beautiful crafters of fiction known as JHCFE circus folk, unfortunately were not the idled men and woman that the world, nor time seen them as. But victims; lambs, living beings of eroded history and whose lives remained stones left unturned, while lichens of sub rosa dwelled.