Hey y'all, I'mma put the stuff I come up with here. First Poem in a while: Spoiler: Poem~Epilepsy the magic is dying I'm trying I'm trying I'm trying to make these feelings subside but they simply won't abide it's going to leave soon I'm going I'm working I am sad why do I feel so bad the calmed fall night sky it taunts me I see it The great tree all be it why can't it reach out to thy? to make the world on end fly Lovecraft, the man lies it is dead none is left the world fled the sea and sky be searched whilst the magic still dies logical, they had not said thy own end to suspend to pretend though I the consequences be the thing I most dread in my ramblings assumed to conclude to illude to repute I cannot bring the fruit for this taste, is a dismantled waisted So be ye near, be ye far see suffering be dreary be tired all searing but be warned the magic is dying we'd all be sworned
It's late Oh dear My emotions, they're fear I just don't know what to do My bias Not clear I'm afraid, this drear I cannot pull through No it can't It won't It shan't But rather no I don't Really know My heart won't show But the torture, it grew Become What had I? I tried To fly But I never flew This place This hell I can't shake it! This spell! Why can't it spare me!?!? I want To be free But just can't see I yearn For release But still decrease My desire This fire I hate This place, With such Disgrace No glee I'd flee But I'm not Really me
~Noise~ noise too soft noise too loud the noise is never right we are almost out of toothpaste I'd dream to loft 'nie the crowd I'd dream of flight we are almost out of toothpaste The work so oft I'd be proud I've no more might we are almost out of toothpaste but what accost the floating cloud it seems slo slight we are almost out of toothpaste what is lost the life so shroud off so quite we are almost out of toothpaste the only avowed at the night we are out of toothpaste...