Achaean News
Ashtan
Written by: Naga Lodi Ta'sa
Date: Sunday, December 15th, 2002
Addressed to: Everyone
I had this lie to swallow
O how it stuck in my throat
Got these Gods to follow
Drifting along
With nothing to do
Self pitiful destruction
Over a scar shaped like you
Real back in revulsion
Transparent, can't see threw
To the light of tomorrow morning
Pawning away all my hard kill stash
Crashed my self now I'm falling
Into a fatality house of infant mortality's
A battery of puddle deep flattery
Trapped in a neon click
It shimmered like light off of ravens feathers
When it scratched its way out infront of me
To this white line my nose is now tethered
A ring punctured threw the cartilage
This gift that you gave to me
And hid it away out of sight
This gift that I just can't see
But I won't give it up in a fight
This gift that you took from me
Who knows, I just then might . . .
No realisation of this tricky situation
Looking for some sort of
Divine sent retribution to clean me up
And wash away all of these thorn cuts
That crown my head and hands
Watch how the pompous watchman struts
And swings his baton in time
With all the other drones
Who walk so freely there in line . . .
A forgotten something
Filled with forgotten nothings
They like it there, or so I was told
Martins Sorrow, a boarded up hole
Like a hungry angel,
It feasts on your soul
Sucks you in until there's nothing left
I should know
I was trapped there
How it used to get so cold at night
So cold, so cold,
Used to get so cold at night
So much pane trapped here in my hands
It pools in my ink well
And runs from my quill
To pollute this already infertile land
Like the painful screaming
Of a fallen baby bird
When the night is still
'Tis then the weeping can be herd . . .
(it floats over the city,
and enters into your dreams
a mournful wailing
and a gnashing of teeth
they have just forgotten
what lies there beneath)
A hypocrites response was so blind I cried
Forgotten peoples,
Punished with forgotten lies
Buy a class to arrogant to think
They like it there I was told
Pardon me for speaking
But its now I see the truth un-fold . . .
Penned by my hand on the 15th of Mayan, in the year 322 AF.
Ashtan
Written by: Naga Lodi Ta'sa
Date: Sunday, December 15th, 2002
Addressed to: Everyone
I had this lie to swallow
O how it stuck in my throat
Got these Gods to follow
Drifting along
With nothing to do
Self pitiful destruction
Over a scar shaped like you
Real back in revulsion
Transparent, can't see threw
To the light of tomorrow morning
Pawning away all my hard kill stash
Crashed my self now I'm falling
Into a fatality house of infant mortality's
A battery of puddle deep flattery
Trapped in a neon click
It shimmered like light off of ravens feathers
When it scratched its way out infront of me
To this white line my nose is now tethered
A ring punctured threw the cartilage
This gift that you gave to me
And hid it away out of sight
This gift that I just can't see
But I won't give it up in a fight
This gift that you took from me
Who knows, I just then might . . .
No realisation of this tricky situation
Looking for some sort of
Divine sent retribution to clean me up
And wash away all of these thorn cuts
That crown my head and hands
Watch how the pompous watchman struts
And swings his baton in time
With all the other drones
Who walk so freely there in line . . .
A forgotten something
Filled with forgotten nothings
They like it there, or so I was told
Martins Sorrow, a boarded up hole
Like a hungry angel,
It feasts on your soul
Sucks you in until there's nothing left
I should know
I was trapped there
How it used to get so cold at night
So cold, so cold,
Used to get so cold at night
So much pane trapped here in my hands
It pools in my ink well
And runs from my quill
To pollute this already infertile land
Like the painful screaming
Of a fallen baby bird
When the night is still
'Tis then the weeping can be herd . . .
(it floats over the city,
and enters into your dreams
a mournful wailing
and a gnashing of teeth
they have just forgotten
what lies there beneath)
A hypocrites response was so blind I cried
Forgotten peoples,
Punished with forgotten lies
Buy a class to arrogant to think
They like it there I was told
Pardon me for speaking
But its now I see the truth un-fold . . .
Penned by my hand on the 15th of Mayan, in the year 322 AF.