Dedicated to the work of Anthony C. Brown. Greatest poet who ever lived and still lives...
He rests, as he stares at the stars through a gap in the wooden ceiling,
Crooked walk a wooden leg, a hermit of the dark but wise world,
Alone with his thoughts, he sets sail to the promissed land,
Encountering the roughest obstacles,
Mythical creatures, giant squids and water orcs,
A mouth full of golden teeth, he spits the sharpest darts,
Too much for the human ear, not accepted by the pudding brain headed,
Stranded on a concrete island, sealed from outerworld,
Writing his words in sand, the wind is not his friend,
Covering each written character, but still he's able to laugh,
In his own words he's stuck on a ship in bottle, quite unique,
And lives inside a painting and moves once a week....
No recognition of his work, yet pirates betray him,
A true tyrant, but still his words too him are holy,
He's able to strike an army down with a movement of his tongue,
Writing for pleasure, his motto, do not steal from him,
Cause he will punch you in the chest, too watch your head swell up and burst,
The man with a 1000 voices and styles,
He whispers, no one hears him, deep in the underground,
In his castle, he wanders the empty halls,
Accompanied by naked vampire lady dancers,
He pours himself a glass of brandy, sits down on his boney chair,
A chest conceiling the warm mist of lonelyness,
Empty is his desk as nothing seems to mather,
Not even the ghastly screams of torment of crying spirits,
Or the scratching of his kitty, with no food, just skin and bones,
Treated the wrong way, he stays hidden from the world we know,
Alone with his words, till his head will give up and take off,
His glass eyes, windows to watch our every movement,
Hear the sound of agony, he waves goodbye at the phoenix,
The emblem he once stood strong with,
Still it's branded in his skull,
So much talent, in one simple person,
A handfull know of his existence....
Dedicated to Anthony C. Brown (aka Warcloud, Dr. Killgrave, The Holocaust, Alcatraz, Frank Holocaustal).
The most talented poet, who deserves more recognition...
http:/www.myspace.com/warcloudforumspace
http://www.warcloud-forum.r8.org
Poetry by Catacomb Villain
Read 941 times
Written on 2006-12-21 at 16:30
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The Forgotten Pirate: Dr. Killgrave
In a cold soggy cabin on the black sea,He rests, as he stares at the stars through a gap in the wooden ceiling,
Crooked walk a wooden leg, a hermit of the dark but wise world,
Alone with his thoughts, he sets sail to the promissed land,
Encountering the roughest obstacles,
Mythical creatures, giant squids and water orcs,
A mouth full of golden teeth, he spits the sharpest darts,
Too much for the human ear, not accepted by the pudding brain headed,
Stranded on a concrete island, sealed from outerworld,
Writing his words in sand, the wind is not his friend,
Covering each written character, but still he's able to laugh,
In his own words he's stuck on a ship in bottle, quite unique,
And lives inside a painting and moves once a week....
No recognition of his work, yet pirates betray him,
A true tyrant, but still his words too him are holy,
He's able to strike an army down with a movement of his tongue,
Writing for pleasure, his motto, do not steal from him,
Cause he will punch you in the chest, too watch your head swell up and burst,
The man with a 1000 voices and styles,
He whispers, no one hears him, deep in the underground,
In his castle, he wanders the empty halls,
Accompanied by naked vampire lady dancers,
He pours himself a glass of brandy, sits down on his boney chair,
A chest conceiling the warm mist of lonelyness,
Empty is his desk as nothing seems to mather,
Not even the ghastly screams of torment of crying spirits,
Or the scratching of his kitty, with no food, just skin and bones,
Treated the wrong way, he stays hidden from the world we know,
Alone with his words, till his head will give up and take off,
His glass eyes, windows to watch our every movement,
Hear the sound of agony, he waves goodbye at the phoenix,
The emblem he once stood strong with,
Still it's branded in his skull,
So much talent, in one simple person,
A handfull know of his existence....
Dedicated to Anthony C. Brown (aka Warcloud, Dr. Killgrave, The Holocaust, Alcatraz, Frank Holocaustal).
The most talented poet, who deserves more recognition...
http:/www.myspace.com/warcloudforumspace
http://www.warcloud-forum.r8.org
Poetry by Catacomb Villain
Read 941 times
Written on 2006-12-21 at 16:30
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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