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    Яαgιи Яαvєи
    Cairo, Egypt
    Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you'll notice you've got their strict attention.
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Tapping at my chamber door




« Home | That Special Thing » | Something Dark » | 'The world as it is' by O. Twist » | All big and grey » | Savor it » | The meter just keeps a-ticking » | To read between the lies » | Je suis content » | Another diary excerpt » | What haunts the blogosphere »

And on marched the fearless knight


Words he formed out of his dreams
Along the lines of what's real and what seems
Marches on a fearless night
Who took a black phoenix for his ride
Amidst the shadows no one could see
That he feared the gold dragon in his dreams
He fought the spider and the ghost
He grew a beard on like a goat
He used the broom for spider webs
And all the guts that he was fed
'Carve it inside', his father said
'Be grateful for the father who once led'
He passed the salt off to those of needs
And everywhere he buried the seeds
He's swallowed every bullshit word
Of every knight who held a sword
Be good, Principles, and shit like that
Trust is priceless. Never rat
He should have cut his eyes out blind
And stuck a fork deep in his mind
He should have loved himself some more
And fucking stab them at the door
Swines in human form a pact
They rise together, hand in hand
Twenty five years ago he cried for breath
And now he weeps and begs for death
But deep he knows he will be missed
By the spider and ghost and an arrogant bliss
The many signs that stood out strong
The many places where he didn't belong
He gave up long before he died
He breathed out what was already dead inside
He turned to her and held her hand
Hoping for once she'd understand
'Put me to bed. I beg you to stay
Until my eyes are shut away'
The knight inside demands the rest
He hates the person that he knew best
He's old enough to rule the world
Yet fears the dragon made of gold
That he made out of pillows and dreams and hopes
He washed the soot off with blood and soap
Took off the nightmare and wore a fake smile
And picked a sword long as the Nile
Walked through the door and through the crowd
Leaving behind his fear and shroud
'Behold. I am the fearless knight'
And lied as he promised to make it all right

nice poem posts :)

you're a real master of poetry, it suits you well although i must admitt i'm not used to it

.. that was beautiful, and really sad.

i always believed that the writings of any author reflect what he is really like, and that it shows what he felt at the time of writing it. if that's anything like what you feel, then i pray that 'Allah bisalmak' from whatever caused it.

very touching though..
salam

Well, my writings are usually part fiction and part real... I think the fiction helps me overcome what's real when I add too much to the "stuff" that might be bothering me.

Poetry does miracles though..

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