Journal

Insomniac's Journal

Words birthed in the internal

His subconscious' dunk-tank

These words remained unranked

Articulate the contemplations

Of these waking frustrations

Pen in hand

Sleep be damned

These are the greatest thoughts in the land

But why do they come at 4 in the morning

Must write them down

And heed the warning

His memory won't serve him as well when he wakes

If only he knew what was at stake

Words, Words, and more still left to come

Cannot stop till he sees the sun

Sunken eyes

Blood shot red

Sleep finally comes to the walking dead

Sunday, June 30, 2013

The Tragedy Of The Misguided Crusader

Masterful workings
To balance the scales
The intricate complexities
In comparison we've paled
Fistfuls of courage
I raise above my head
For The good people
I have left in my stead
The undying crusade
Of which
I take the lead
Libra my guide
The justice I seek
Karmic Retribution
Who's blessing I hold
Systematic Constitution
My actions are bold
From the firmament
I have received my instruction
To protect the Good people
My only function
Blessed be the man
Who walks a righteous path
Forsaken be the man
Who incites a pointless wrath
Mindless steps they take
For debauched and wanton tasks
The Honorable outcomes
I reach for
With my fearsome holy mask
I am merely a servant
At the bidding of
Something more
Waiting for monsters
To knock down my door
The Filth
I am called to wipe from the floor
Vehement distress
I detest and abhor
Drawn swords
Licked by flames of pious fire
Those in my way
Will burn upon the pyre

My enemies now vanquished
Their blackened souls will languish

Headed home
My legend grown
Written down in every tome
The scales now settled
The world now equal
And I did it all
For those Good People


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