What does it mean to be smart?
If one cannot wholly convey the heart.
Lunge into these squabbles of the mind and soul that clash.
Let it be acknowledged that we are brash.
We are buffoon with a zeal.
For we do not dread the great facts that will be reveal.

The facts that will be reveal,
Will make shrewd man doubt whether they are smart.
So, let us commence to tell a fable with great zeal.
Once upon a time, a fellow with heart,
Met a dragon who was brash.
On a solitary ground, without awaiting clash.

The land shakes from that clash.
Legends are still told of what was reveal.
On that day, the mighty dragon’s named Ignas the Brash,
Humble by a man known as Mar the Smart.
It greatly saddens our heart;
But this superb tale will not in with this lesser zeal.

Lesser men would end their zeal,
Disregarding bonds that forge in the clash.
Recounting only how old Mar took the dragon heart.
We are not lesser men we will reveal,
The true soul of Mar the Smart.
On that day, a drake met a man, a saga yet brash.

You know of Ignas the brash.
Gather your audacity and your zeal.
If your idiocy gets in his way, move! That is smart.
Hold nations will vanish when the drake clash.
He has no fear to reveal.
Thy say he is a splendid beast born without a heart.

Mar, confirm he has a heart.
Oh…oh, do not forget Ignas the Brash.
Why did Mar sob when slaying Ignas needs to be reveal?
The dismal tears haunt us; it takes our zeal.
So do not speak of the clash.
For we must understand the soul of old Mar the Smart.

So, you recognize our untruths to reveal the heart.
Oh… oh, Forgive us smart chap! We are brash.
Are zeal. Will endlessly clash.

By MID

A world sense consuming ablaze.
Be it by hate in common ways,
Or worries of unknown perils.
So, we hid within the barrels.

Waiting, scheming, Battling, Fearing.
While, these times can be nonbearing.
They can make heroes out of us.
So, we let conflict be discussed.

We face the old hate, the new fears,
For a unity will appears,
through conflict of the ablaze world.
For the time will come when it is furled.

By MID

Lays on the road of dragons and gods,

That battle lost forgoes of minds that craft from a man.

Here they make their stands and fight the odds,

Which once was lost to combatants that fought during the span;

That covers all the time and the great plans.

Which was fashion by the great forces’ divines;

And things of similar nature of a Xian.

Here noble and true speaks of the signs:

First among these signs is applauds,

Which call glory into a realm without clan.

Second is that lies which are ban;

Spoken by in the great plans.

Thirds is such things as chines;

Which brings ill fate to the man.

Last, but not least is the twines.

So, know the signs of the lauds.

Go, go tell of how thy began,

Were its war, death, and cyan?

Did you stand the line;

Or were you the one first to ran?

Ugh, no answers that’s fine.

Lays on the roads of a man.

That battle lost forgoes of minds that craft from Divines.

Here they make their stands and fight that of great plans

So, lets here the tale of last of a whine.

By M.I.D

I look at the world;

And see only a burled.

A true discrete we have here today.

What shame came otherwise is a defray?

That offend the rights of all good folks;

But last long enough to offend that of the yolks.

It is with righteous hatred that I proclaim,

Dismayed, and rebellious against the shame.

By M.I.D

Look at our conquest, we are men.

We spread high and low.
Across all planes of this world

Some dare call us destroyers

Other worship us as creators

But that doesn’t change the facts

We are men, look at our conquest!

In the boring days.

I yield a trust given to me.

For I am a devil.

“The wall is life.”

His eyes shut in misery.

The voices in his head tell him endless lies.

The silence screams out to him

Wordless and vast.

“The wall is life.”

it’s Whisper,

gets louder

Spoken by wordless voices and lost in a howl of the world.

“The wall is life.”

Taste of saliva is

Sweeter and bitter.

Every second his thought goes on

“The wall is life.”

His ear can’t handle the howls.

The voices get louder.

He opens his eyes

And screams, but silence is all he can hear.

“The wall is life.”

Nothing is a color that unique to the world.

Was that his first sanest thought as

His gaze ponders into nothing?

“The wall is life.”

He reaches out to touch and grasp everything but

His hand is empty.

“The wall is life.”

His eyes shut in misery.

 

M.I.D