The Second BattleTwo steps forward And the wooden planks Bend beneath my heelThe Second Battle
I cannot hear God Thunder breaks my ears Screams destroy my mind
Who are you That fights beside me? Where did my friend go?
Four thousand dead I never knew him Drowned in mud
Two steps forward My legs steeped in mud Or is it blood
I thought I was in Hell Hell is more poetic
Sinking soldiers Their only use Is stepping stones
Slip and fall Fall and drown Drown in what?
Who is that
The SummitSearch for me in the clear of the mountaintop You cannot find me. Though I rest beside you in the blizzard’s storm I never reach the summit.The Summit
I lurk beneath the rocking bridge I am the wanderer behind you I walk before the child’s slumber I reach for him in the quiet darkness
I know the face of death, I am his mask I know disease, I am disease The deserter sees me, and he flees Only to meet me in the firing line
I am the king of division The lord of loveless houses Every man shall see me And none shall forget me
Dead CenterDead center, his first-played piece already brought disadvantage my way. There is no winning variant, and I must choose to either draw, or fail in the process. I raised my head from the board to face a grinning opponent. He knew it all by heart: the moves, the variants, how never to lose. I was not giving up, though. With a bluff of confidence, I countered his central assault with a direct reply, blocking further passage.Dead Center
“Predictable Avery,” my enemy taunted, “You’ve no chance to beat a master like me.”
“Shut up and play
Loki's BirthHate reborn and ignorant of shame, Faceless masks repel the blame. Freedom, knowledge, finger's reach, Lost in streams of bitter speech.Loki's Birth
Cradled well behind the glass, Teething sorrows come to pass, Feeding rage with further rage, This infant mind has come to age.
Useless journeys found inside Their home, their hollow pride. Sulfur smiles, like ebon coal, Hence the naming of a troll.
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Rip me open, paint with my blood, let my soul shine through the crimson medium.
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Rip me open, paint with my blood, let my soul shine through the crimson medium.
The hell's a hippy hug anyways?
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All the world's a stage, and everyone's a player.
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