First of 100 in 100 days
Poet-Warrior
(Or... The Obligatory Manifesto Peice) (concrit weclome as always)
Some say we should
Rail against the dying of the light
Some say we should
Howl at the moon for a generation lost
Some cry for the anguish in their souls
Loves lost to never come again
Yeah, and if my grass were emo
It would cut it self
Stop the fairy tale
Stop the lies
Stop the anguish
And the silly dramatics
These specific dramatics to be excluded of course
Stand up
Stand the hell up
And do something about the problems you see
For being a chronicler isn't enough
Our words must not stand alone
We are a generation
Lied to by our leaders
Misled by our parents
Out of work
Seemingly out of hope
But only because we allow ourselves to be
I dream of a generation of warrior poets
Men and women willing
Not only
To scream at the dying of the light
But to light their own candle
To make the difference they so wish would come to the world
To create the dream we think was our past
To shine a beacon of light upon an ever darkening world
Words are a foundation for the greatness we dream
But our actions must be the bricks that create it
Words cannot clothe and feed us
Words cannot give us love
We, those who see the light in the world
Those who see what the world could be
Those unwilling to give up on dreams
And hope and love
And every beautiful creation
Must be the torch bearers
We are a generation dying
Because we are a generation of words
(Or... The Obligatory Manifesto Peice) (concrit weclome as always)
Some say we should
Rail against the dying of the light
Some say we should
Howl at the moon for a generation lost
Some cry for the anguish in their souls
Loves lost to never come again
Yeah, and if my grass were emo
It would cut it self
Stop the fairy tale
Stop the lies
Stop the anguish
And the silly dramatics
These specific dramatics to be excluded of course
Stand up
Stand the hell up
And do something about the problems you see
For being a chronicler isn't enough
Our words must not stand alone
We are a generation
Lied to by our leaders
Misled by our parents
Out of work
Seemingly out of hope
But only because we allow ourselves to be
I dream of a generation of warrior poets
Men and women willing
Not only
To scream at the dying of the light
But to light their own candle
To make the difference they so wish would come to the world
To create the dream we think was our past
To shine a beacon of light upon an ever darkening world
Words are a foundation for the greatness we dream
But our actions must be the bricks that create it
Words cannot clothe and feed us
Words cannot give us love
We, those who see the light in the world
Those who see what the world could be
Those unwilling to give up on dreams
And hope and love
And every beautiful creation
Must be the torch bearers
We are a generation dying
Because we are a generation of words