A little taste of history

I'm a drunk, its the only time I can stand it all...

You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it--it's the
only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks
your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually
drunk.
But on what?Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be
drunk.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of
a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again,
drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave,
the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything
that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is
singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and
wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you:"It is time to be
drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be
continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."

Charles Baudelaire

The Bird Of Hermes - Ripley Scrolls

                                          The Bird of Hermes is my name 

                           Eating my wings to keep me tame

From broken bodies blood is shed

Soon to become ghouls undead

The Bird of Hermes shall come soon

Be it morning, evening, afternoon

The Bird of Hermes feeds on fright

Soon blood shall stain the wicked night

The Bird of Hermes will devour

His enemies in the midnight hour

The Bird of Hermes is my name

Eating my wings to keep me tame

The night shall soon be stained with red

Your army lies bleeding and dead

Their bodies shall rise soon

And join The Bird’s dark platoon

You shall learn to live in night

Obeying ghouls made to fight

The blood shall be a ghastly shower

The Bird’s enemies shall run and cower

The Bird of Hermes is my name

Eating my wings to keep me tame

Ode to the Innocent

Be the difference you are wanting to see
But are you to stake yourself for it?
In sin and repentance,
Life in wait and we bide our time
Lost be forever wherein guilty pleasures are found
Glory be dreams,
Scratching at the fiber in our hearts
Search in words for a surrender
Let love be sound.

My Thought of the Day

I'm the tragic protagonist of my story, where were you?

This is not a wave,

Call it paraphernalia.

Lore of the last Tiger

The day they came, I stood a cub with bated breath
Knowing them as the moon people dawning with age
They came by night, with fire eyeing the skies and,
Soon after they scorched the land they caved on
They burned the forest and the trees that whispered,
They hounded up the wolves and chained them as dogs,
and they killed our herds of deer we lived upon.

And as the time came, it went;
Soon everything had changed.

The wind many winters surrendered to their smoke,
Known men roamed the land or scrounged in the earth
They toiled their days into nights brows furrowed and
Soon they spread out claiming more and more of ours
They hunted our brethren when we starved and feared
They put up walls and blamed us for all that went wild,
and the cub that watched now ran the last tiger.

And as the time came, it went;
Soon everything had changed.