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SEARCHING41
Age: 15
Location: Laedua Nikos, Miturae
Joined On: Aug 19, 2006
Occupation: Searching 4 1
Searching41
Laedua Nikos, Miturae
JoeDaHobo
The city thats way better than Edmonton
Child of Dust - Thrice
Dear prodigal, you are my son and I
Supplied you not your spirit, but your shape.
All Eden's weath arrayed before your eyes;
I fathomed not you wanted to escape.
And though I only ever gave you love,
like every child you’ve chosen to rebel;
uprooted flowers and filled the holes with blood;
ask for not whom they toll the solemn bells.
A child of dust to mother now return;
for every seed must die before it grows.
and though above the world may toil and turn,
no prying spade will find you here below.
Now safe beneath their wisdom and their feet,
Here i will teach you truly how to sleep.
Silver Wings - Thrice
From tender years you took me for granted
But still I deign to wander through your lungs
While You were sleeping solemnly in your bed
(Your drapes were silver wings your shutters flung)
I Drew the poison from the summer sting
And eased the fire out of your fevered skin
I Moved in you and stirred your soul to sing
And if you let me I would move again
I've danced with sunlit stands of lovers hair
And formed the final words before your death
I pitied you and piled your sails with air
A blessing when you rose upon my breath
And after all of this, I am amazed
That I am cursed far more than I am praised
Kings Upon the Main - Thrice
This lesson you'd do well not to forget.
Your life could be the one its wisdom saves
At sea, when you're beleaguered and beset,
On every side by strife of wind and waves.
Despite the best of maps and bravest men,
For all their mighty names and massive forms,
There'll never be and there has never been
A ship or fleet secure against the storms.
When kings upon the main have clung to pride,
And held themselves as masters of the sea,
I've held them down beneath the crushing tide
Till they have learned that no one masters me.
But grace can still be found within the gale;
With fear and reverence, raise your ragged sail.
The Flame Deluge - Thrice
I feel that I was meant for something more,
My curse, this awful power to unmake.
And ever since you found your taste for war,
You've forced me onto those whose lives you'd take.
While Guernica in peaceful valley lay,
And Dresden dreamed of anything but death,
The day was turned to night, and night to day;
You let me loose upon their fragile flesh.
And so I hid among the smallest things;
You found me there and ferried me above.
The flame deluge is waiting in the wings;
The smallest thread holds back the second flood.
And who will stand to greet the blinding light;
it's lonely when there's no one left to fight.
