EPT![[image loading]](http://fc03.deviantart.com/fs29/i/2008/054/e/2/Leaving__by_LuCiaN_V.jpg)
Leaving.
I had a dream - of the wide open prairie.
I had a dream - of the the pale morning sky.
I had a dream - that we flew on golden wings.
And we were the same - just the same - you and I
Older shot, found in one of my 5187432 photo folders. Edited in PS (slightly). Taken in Romania, of course.
I started the 'school' to obtain my driver's license(dunno the exact English term, is "drivers' school" ok?). Should take about three or four more weeks. Cake.
My girlfriend and I are getting along absolutely amazing, she keeps me very happy, very calm and generally at peace with myself. Keeps me away from depressions also.
My trouble with the law continues still, it shows signs of clearing up soon (a few months). The consequences will not be harsh at all it seems (no c. record). Please don't ask what it's about.
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I was a little hesitant to post this, but if there are any English majors of w/e (as I'm sure there must be, Team Liquid never fails to deliver), I would like some criticism for a little poem of mine. Other people can criticize at will, I will quite appreciate it. I'm sure most of you speak better English than me anyway, because it is not my first language.
As a personal comment, I would like to just say that there seems to be nothing anymore to lean our faith against, except our own selves. But 'human' in general is a complex, and more importantly flawed concept.
Cheers to all of you
Issa
Below of the sky which darkens in tar
Where seared earth meets no wish of life, anymore
Where putrid angels lay slew, in gross gore
A wanderer draws near, from afar,
Where the sky darkens in tar.
The scarlet of sunsets is long since gone
The gold of autumn blackened, and burnt
Silently since, all but memories are done
Where black crows ascend, in death-croaking spar
Towards the sky which darkens in tar.
And so he nears, black robe unable to hide
The namelessness within its dark hood, black eyes
Charred and forgotten, sight of limbs in unison strides
Seeking a mere phantom's reflection, not far
From skies which darken in tar.
Lost trekker under black clouds full of lead
Lost are his dreams, into blistered hands of the dead
Lost does he stare at black gravestones raised tall
On his old cradle, now cemetery of brothers who fall,
From skies which darken in tar.
As deep thunder engulfs the dismantling lie
As candid death pours recklessly onto life, without cry
Devoting sweltering demons wisdom upon the urge
Of obscure night to approach, to devour and purge
The nomad is bent to his knees by sleep-wielding surge.
Grave, grinding Sleep, unholy brother of Death,
Heard abysmal cries of its quarry, secluded in the tomb
Of all the kindred's oppressing, impassable womb
Quietly the man begins to falter, cannot hush now any farther.
Soundless, death-bound whispers come across,
Pagan holding dearly his corroded, ancient cross.
Eerie, creeping form, voice of blackening bellows
Voice of the fetid, unhealed human souls,
Tone bearing the flurry of the ocean in its fury;
Quietly the man begins to falter, cannot hush now any further.
Loudly, death-bound shouting comes across,
Pagan holding dearly his corroded, ancient cross.
Bar his cross is broken, calling is in vain
Calling words of Truth, useless calling of Thy name...
Issa, oh Issa...
The sky is forever dark, we are our bane.
