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Who Is Truly Insane?They called him crazy, told him he was wrong,
and they never heard his tale, heard his song.
They told him he was useless, a tribute to insanity,
little did they know that they were contributing to their own vanity.
An eye of coal, or an eye of glass?
They wouldn't know, they aviod the past.
Will they learn, or will their ignorance show?
He couldn't tell, and they didn't know.
Another strange poem.I lost my time, I lost my place.
The only thing I haven't lost is face.
I lost my rhythmn, I lost my rhyme,
i'm out of space, I should really try,
to remember how to fix a broken heart.
I once knew how to smile, but that knowledge was lost.
Beaten, broken, dead, I lay, I no longer hold the key.
The door is locked, but yet it opens.
I have no key, but maybe i'm the key.
I couldn't let myself decide what I do,
so I locked my spirit inside a room.
Ever felt the world slow down?Ever felt the world slow down?
As you're about to die, you can finally open your eyes.
Ever known that you could see the truth?
Noone else could, but you could see the light.
Enlighten me, enlighten us.
We'll become the ones you trust.
To be truthful, I sit in sorrow.
My life doesn't end, won't until the morrow.
I could feel as if life wasn't worth it,
I could know that everything I touched would decay.
But how would that help, in this sad story?
If there was rest for the wicked, it wasn't today.
The Tale of the Liar.The sun, I can hear it singing.
All of the kingdom wishes to hear you speak.
There was once a fire, but it no longer burns.
It was put out by an earlier ruler, that only felt hatred towards his people.
He was cold, a statue while he watched them die.
He did not cry as they starved.
He did not speak when their trials ruled falsely, even when he knew the truth.
He only cared for one, and that was him.
This is the tale of a liar,
a false prophet,
an evil king.
He laughed as they were tortured,
he felt as if he was better than them.
They knew this,
so they planned,
and waited for the right moment.
And when the moment arose,
they were there.
They were waiting,
it ended quickly.
He was not prepared,
they didn't care.
It was for the people,
not for their honor.
They were the jury, the trial, and the judge.
They were death, but they were the true rulers.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More