Andrew Mage

UNITED STATES


Joined October 21st 2007

Number of Posts:
3

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Pawn's End

October 23rd 2007 19:18
Take away my offered hand of competition
No more will I be your foe
For God has amused Himself long enough
With our presented quandary
Our life now stands at its end
And so much time squandered needlessly
Both faces hidden by selfish ambitions

How the pieces before us waited for our finger-tips
Orders to be carried out without emotion,
And obeyed without conscience
The board was filled with lies
Victory was promised in the movements
But we could never venture out against one another
The power that waited in the black and white corners
Could only stare back in abject shame
At their reluctant masters who commanded them

A duel of chess
The players tired and eager for its bitter end
In our youth we craved the game and knew no equal
But age has brought about submission
The acceptance of what must be
In this disclosure of self
The sport has truly betrayed us both
For the thrill alone had sought to divide
And to conquer us fully without apology



Note:

I wrote this about the games that most people play and do not realize that in the end such games will place a wedge between us all in our relationships.

the great divide
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Say of stone

October 22nd 2007 17:23
Say of stone

Stately gargoyle,
I admire your grin
Perched upon such heights;
Surely sitting on the shoulder of crafted structures,

You have opinion and view.
Your unwavering gaze and stare;
Qualities of you,
Only with silence do you answer me,
And those thoughts you do not share.

Where does your vision rest?
Will you ever say?
Content to smiling;
Fixed eye to both the rising,
And the setting sun of day.

There has been alot on my mind lately and this is a poem that always made me smile for some reason. Hope you like.
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New blood

October 21st 2007 03:36
I am usually a soft spoken guy but there are moments when I wish for my writing to speak very loudly for me.

Weathered
The screams never sounded so loud before
Close. My ears steadily creep.
To the sound it moves. To the source it seeks.
Darkened corridors give no light. No warmth.
What is left can not be more than a gentle want

Grow little spark. Set all ablaze.
I shiver. My skin pulls tightly.
The cold enters. Is it to be a reflection of self?
A greeting of the night extended to all?
With such lungs I breathe stale falsehood
I feel it shall not release me.

What place do I intrude upon now? Is this to be horror?
Perhaps it is misshapen fantasy, a madman’s dream.
There lies the question, let the answer be the same.
A house built on such rubble
Words strung upon every page of ramble.

Can there be no ceasing to the prattling of this plague?
My only thought is to bear this journey
Preserve my mind further I pray
Stay at my side a little more
Until my hand tires of its unseen guardian
This ingratitude abounds in me, more and more

Hate dwells within me, for these cursed walls of unfeeling stone.
You wait for visitor to reflect your mood.
My feet proceed. I progress.
Such rage I find awaits me.
Grand portraits adorn the walls torn and raked with fingernails
Faces bare no smile nor frown. No familiar emotion is housed.
They display the mark of me.

Perhaps I have ventured here before
And forgotten the way?
As such straight and narrow, becomes crooked and wide
Good intentions I fear are meant to be persuaded
Until the heads of many rest in the appointed direction
All is to be lost within this weathered maze.
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