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Poetry
Aug 22, 2006 15:46:10 GMT
Post by Kidd Strife on Aug 22, 2006 15:46:10 GMT
A True Puzzle Love is like a puzzle No matter how long we stare We'll never figure it out But we know it's still there
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Poetry
Aug 22, 2006 17:29:09 GMT
Post by Steve Harmer on Aug 22, 2006 17:29:09 GMT
Not bad at all! very random, but not bad at all!
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Poetry
Aug 29, 2006 19:27:10 GMT
Post by Squall on Aug 29, 2006 19:27:10 GMT
Wow so true! thats deep lol
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Poetry
Sept 2, 2006 19:44:43 GMT
Post by matt on Sept 2, 2006 19:44:43 GMT
Knights of the round
My twelve knights answer to my beck and call I summon you from the night now come to me, one and all my twelve knights strike my foe and watch him fall victory is nearly in sight victory for the force of light now come to me one and all my twelve knights
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Poetry
Sept 10, 2006 6:00:30 GMT
Post by Kidd Strife on Sept 10, 2006 6:00:30 GMT
Nice
I approach the door. The door to light. Each step I take furthers my fight. As my body get near. I am halted by fear. I know I must go. But first to defeat this foe. As the fear conqueres my heart. As it consumes my mind. I think of the fight. The fight for the light. As I regain my will. I know I shall not be killed. The darkness flees. As I raise the keys. I open the door. I step in, to exist in darkness, never more.
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Poetry
Sept 10, 2006 6:02:35 GMT
Post by Amnesty Lazuli on Sept 10, 2006 6:02:35 GMT
The images remind me of The Matrix Reloaded (Neo entering the source). Somehow I think that isn't what you had in mind, though.
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Poetry
Sept 10, 2006 6:05:05 GMT
Post by Kidd Strife on Sept 10, 2006 6:05:05 GMT
Death, like a midnight stream, Sweeps us away life's a dream. An empty tale, A mourning flower. Cut down and withered by hour
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Poetry
Jun 16, 2007 5:01:59 GMT
Post by Sin on Jun 16, 2007 5:01:59 GMT
The Black Rose
It does not matter the death that approaches, nor the color of the rose. The color fades dispite the love or attention, the color blackens on its death throes. It can be replaced to wither again, or left for the reaper to attend. Let thy voice raise and pour, confess your sins and make ammends, Judge not the reaper of death but your own life at the mend.
I do not remember where I heard it from.
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