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Wed 22 Jan, 2003 10:38 am
Thou shalt raise thy standard high,
Thou shalt never see it down
They shall tear thy flesh
They shall tear thy soul
They shall tear the name of thine
They shall betray thee
Whom thou grantedst forgiveness
Thy blood shall manure the land.
Thy suffering shall be thy strength
Thy pride shall be thy toughness
Thy honour shall be thy armour
Thy nobility shall be thy shield
Thy life shall not be long in years
Yet times longer in life itself
Thou shalt die young
Yet older than sages
I shall drink from thy chalice
I shall hand thee thy lance
In thy cold nights
I shall come and comfort thee
Thou shalt feel my breath on thy cheek
In dusk and dawn alike
Thou shalt taste my lips
They taste of red wine
And thou shalt drink
When thou reelst my arm shall sustain thee
When thou fallst I shall be with thee
My sombre locks on thy shiny armour shall scatter
I shall lay thy head on my cold womb
I shall nestle thy arm to my chilled breast
Thy scarlet blood on my white dress
My fingers shall close thy eyes
My lips shall cool thine
My tears shall reach thy pierced heart
I shall mourn for thee
I shall weep for thee
I shall lead thee to whom thou servest
chevalier ~ thanks for posting your writing! I don't think it needed a disclaimer, but that's only my opinion. I enjoyed it.
chevalier...goodness, no warning needed whatsoever.
If I may, I'll toss in a lyric from Tom Waits, not particularly morbid, but likely in need of some sort of warning...
Pasties And A G String
(At The Two O'Clock Club)
Smellin' like a brewery, lookin' like a tramp
I ain't got a quarter, I got a postage stamp
Been five o'clock shadow boxin' all around the town
Talkin' with the old men, sleepin' on the ground
Bazanti bootin' al zootin' al hoot and Al Cohn
Sharin' this apartment with a telephone pole
And a fishnet stocking, spike heeled shoes
Strip tease, prick tease, car keys blues
And the porno floor show, live nude girls
Dreamy and creamy and brunette curls
Chesty Morgan and Watermelon Rose
Raise my rent and take off all your clothes
With trench coats, magazines, a bottle full of rum
She's so good, it make a dead man cum
Pasties and a G-string, beer and a shot
Portland through a shot glass and a Buffalo squeeze
Wrinkles and Cherry and Twinkie and Pinkie
And Fifi live from Gay Paree
Fanfares, rim shots, backstage, who cares
All this hot burlesque for me
Cleavage, cleavage, thighs and hips
From the nape of her neck to the lipstick lips
Chopped and channeled and lowered and lewd
And the cheater slicks and baby moons
She's a-hot and ready, creamy and sugared
And the band is awful and so are the tunes
Crawlin' on her belly, and shakin' like jelly
And I'm gettin' harder than Chinese algebra-ssieres
And cheers from the compendium here
Hey sweetheart, they're yellin' for more
You're squashin' out your cigarette butts on the floor
And I like Shelly, and you like Jane
And what was the girl with the snakeskin's name?
And it's an early bird matinee, come back any day
Get you a little something that you can't get at home
And get you a little something that you can't get at home
It's pasties and a G-string, beer and a shot
Portland through a shot glass and a Buffalo squeeze
Popcorn, front row, higher than a kite
And I'll be back tomorrow night
And I'll be back tomorrow night
blatham wrote:chevalier...goodness, no warning needed whatsoever.
Those who decipher the symbols/conotations/relations say I'm incurable
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