Chapter one - The Man of Steel
By: The Witness
Downing a bottle of beer, I look around, I hope nobody is near,
My problem is clear, my confidence is rotting while I'm dropping a tear,
Casting my mind to a happier time, when I was actually fine
Grabbing some wine, I remove the cap, sit back and recline,
While the track of my mind, rewinds, and moves backwards in time,
*Is it a bird, is it a plane?*
The wind roars in my face, as I soar, in the sun's glorious rays,
Every pore screams for 'more' of my notorious pace,
People thank me, frankly, for finding the evil bank thief,
I'm dazzling, shining, as a camera's snapping me and my white teeth,
My masterful eyesight, brings me success in my crime fight,
The 'S' on my chest makes me blessed, as I rest in the limelight,
I jump in to the sky, to the delight of millions of eyes,
I catch the wind, and I fly...such a brilliant goodbye...
*Back to the future*
...My faces' freckled skin, forms a deeply regretful grin,
Death and sin have settled in, it pains me to let them win,
Flicking ash in the tray, no passion, a message I have to relay
Don't live for others, it's your life, grasp it and play,
I stare at my cape, simply wishing the thing would wither and burn,
Then, caught by a cold wind, it is taken...and never returned.
Chapter Two - The Day Walker
By: Outsider
Standing in the dark, planning to carve a blood suckers spleen,
and the moonlight marks where I start to continue another spree.
Blade at the side, shades tint my eyes to extend the disguise,
name's on the mind of my prey as he tries to blend in the night.
Vampires disgust me, an empire of ugly parasites jumping,
onto one thing, sucking it dry till it dies, just like a blood link.
but who am I, you must be wondering, a mysterious crusade,
slayer of beasts, the savior unleashed, after this serious plague.
With my scope on his head, and silver rope around his legs...
one little tug and this fuck will know why I'm blade!
After a lifetime of pain, I've mastered the right kind of game,
killing everyday without change, still twenty nine years of age.
No emotion or motive, just an ocean to flow with on my own,
a river of blood, getting thicker as it floods this soul and bones.
nothing to live for, wanting to give more than fear and hate,
there is something inside me that's fighting to clear the slate.
A hundred years without a grave, no mate to give me reason,
can't stomach doubt or shame... black clouds drain this demon.
Ultimate goals in life, no oath or wife to protect or hold,
and so I dissect these drones while my flesh gets cold.
Is there really a reason to keep fighting, after we've lost everything?
Reply With Quote
