She stands alone, and regrets it
But she knows and accepts she begets it
She crafted the cage; she’ll take now her wage
She’ll die alone: Fate has said it.
“Be wary of devils, little angel;
Watch out for the thorns.
There are always those who will try and show you hell;
Manipulators who will use you for their own needs and nothing more.
Don’t let them take your innocence;
Don’t let them bend your principles.
Be careful of the hypocrites
Who care not for your precious soul!”
But I am not an angel;
I am, for sure, a rose.
There’s a place Down There I know quite well…
And the best manipulation is the one where no one knows.
I have no dearest friends;
I’ve got no darling love.
Oh I was sent from somewhere,
But I don’t think it was above.
See, I know my only future;
And I am my only seer.
You might tell me I can change me,
But that means nothing here.
All I know is silence;
All I know is endless time.
If the only change is violence,
Then I guess the violence will be mine.
We rip out the empty page, and we color it in curses
As an expression for our rage — or, we hide it all in verses.
Or maybe in the dead of night, finally we vow a change:
A solar powered flashlight — only, the sun is out of range.
So we fall back into darkness, and it seems forever deeper
As we creep further into this, because maybe it’s a keeper
And we don’t have to hide, if there’s nothing left to see
So let’s pretend that it’s a side, and call it destiny.
I wonder if you cry like me;
I wonder if I ought to say something…
I wonder if there’s anything for me to say;
For there’s nothing you could say for me.
The path that he walks
Leads to darkness;
That the fate he claims
Is to die alone.
The beauty that he mocks,
But sees it as a harness;
He consciously fans his flames,
Hoping to burn to ash and bone.
The life that he feels locks
Him into misery and violence
Hounds him, and he blames
Upon it every guilt for which he can’t atone.
That when death knocks
There is no one who will miss;
For who remembers names
Of men who ravage their own homes?
Inspired by a character from Neverwinter Nights 2. He is exactly what I think of when I use the term “one who can’t be saved.” He’s a jerk throughout the game, to put it lightly. He’s a nihilistic, “chaotic evil” character, that pretty much every other character in the game despises… Excepting, possibly, the main character, for whom he in turn develops a certain respect and admiration.
I find him one of the more interesting characters of the game. Despite being a “bad guy,” there’s something kind of tragic about him… But then, maybe I just think that because, in a game where there’s almost always a right path, a “good” or “lawful” choice, he’s a character you can understand, but no matter what you do, cannot save from himself.
I am not the paragon;
This story isn’t mine.
I can pretend it is all day long,
But in the end I still am lying.
I am not the prodigal;
I’m not coming to return.
I come to leech until I’m full,
And then I’ll watch your carcass burn.
I am not the beauty;
The beast is all I know.
People always think they see —
Until they learn what makes my roses grow.
I am not the monster;
I am just a human being.
But I can’t tell any longer
Which is the worse feeling.
Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea:
What choice for you — what choice for me?
Whatever we do, we can’t be free;
We’re trapped between the devil, and the deep blue sea.
We could run, and hide away;
But I know I could not live that way.
Let us face it, come what may:
I will not run and hide away.
Check our course and check it twice:
Down a path of sin and vice,
Perfectly armed with imperfect advice;
Best we check our course and do it twice.
We saw the devil, and the sea:
Everybody knows that hell is free —
But I do not choose so easily;
So I pick the devil, and the sea.
Inspired by this poem… And pirates. I don’t know why I always wind up with pirates; but, there it is. Pirates, and a seeming inability to choose — which is also a recurring theme with me: My sister once even wrote a little parody short story involving a birthday party that goes horribly awry, and all because the birthday girl — inspired by me — would not make any choices. I thought it was hilarious (still do), and continue to refer to it from time to time. Like now, for instance.
You said before that some can’t be saved;
And I think that is true.
You’re so many evil things…
But you’re not the villain here, are you?
I thought that you were.
I thought all I had to do
To be the good guy, was just
To be better than you.
But it was all just a lie;
While all along, I knew the truth:
I felt it boiling underneath,
Even as I veiled my face in ruth.
You never had to be the good guy:
You just had to be better than me.
It turns out I’m the one who can’t be saved,
And you’re the one who gets the redemption story.
Have I scared you off just yet,
With my anger and regret?
Tell me I am young again:
I have said it so often;
And yet, I don’t believe it true,
When the emptiness again is new.