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Sky Sailor's Handbook, Thoughts and Imaginings
The Flying Ship
Sunday, June 19, 2011
All
All the things I demand
And the pain I can stand
The things that I fight
And what I think is right
The laughter I spout
The anger I shout
Fear from which I run
And the times I have fun
And all that I dream
And the person I seem
The art that I make
Every last bit is fake
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Who I am on face value:
Joel Macbeth
Australia
I am only a slave poet And my chains are those that are worn like armor By the most foolish dictators idols to their own grotesque Bury me with my flute, a knife, coins on my eyes And say you knew I was unrepentant
View my complete profile
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What Purpose Has This Simulation?
Cold?
Got a Good Reason?
The Soul Of A Machine
I Say Thee Nay.
Flame
All
Learning and Growth
The White Hot Light Of Salvation.
A Little Bit of Q&A.
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