The Bell Strikes Twelve!!!
By Kaoss
The Darkness comes and goes without pattern
As the little boy stands in the hall,
Waiting , wanting to know more
But understanding less.
Fear grows as anticipation builds.
What is truly going on?
The Bell tolls thrice, nine more to go.
12 is the hour of impending doom.
Are we dreaming or is this the end!
No one knows if we wake or yet sleep!
Does it matter, turn on the box,
Therein the answer lies…..to you!
Sit and watch the endless parade of the near dead
Who’s wearing what, who’s doing who.
Listen to the flushing sound
as we spiral ever down into oblivion!!
In the hallway, afraid and crying
The little boy stands staring, sobbing.
What will become of us!!!!
The Bell strikes twelve and then…………
By Kaoss
The Darkness comes and goes without pattern
As the little boy stands in the hall,
Waiting , wanting to know more
But understanding less.
Fear grows as anticipation builds.
What is truly going on?
The Bell tolls thrice, nine more to go.
12 is the hour of impending doom.
Are we dreaming or is this the end!
No one knows if we wake or yet sleep!
Does it matter, turn on the box,
Therein the answer lies…..to you!
Sit and watch the endless parade of the near dead
Who’s wearing what, who’s doing who.
Listen to the flushing sound
as we spiral ever down into oblivion!!
In the hallway, afraid and crying
The little boy stands staring, sobbing.
What will become of us!!!!
The Bell strikes twelve and then…………
Departure
By Kaoss
Consumed, used up, empty
Nothing left except rot and decay.
Animated by sheer force of will
But soon that will see the end of day.
None shall cry when the last bow is taken,
No remorse by those left behind.
No thought at all about the wasted potential.
Just a laugh, maybe a smile nothing more.
None mourned the gods as they faded one by one,
What makes a man deserve even half.
Why even bother, soon it’s all dust,
Slowly decay deep in the crust.
The ghost’s of tomorrow soon yesterday’s forgotten,
All that is left when thing’s are rotten.
The Carnival’s done, the tents all folded,
There is no next stop, creation’s eroded.
And soon the last bell tolls!
By Kaoss
Consumed, used up, empty
Nothing left except rot and decay.
Animated by sheer force of will
But soon that will see the end of day.
None shall cry when the last bow is taken,
No remorse by those left behind.
No thought at all about the wasted potential.
Just a laugh, maybe a smile nothing more.
None mourned the gods as they faded one by one,
What makes a man deserve even half.
Why even bother, soon it’s all dust,
Slowly decay deep in the crust.
The ghost’s of tomorrow soon yesterday’s forgotten,
All that is left when thing’s are rotten.
The Carnival’s done, the tents all folded,
There is no next stop, creation’s eroded.
And soon the last bell tolls!
By Kaoss
All empty inside
No more sweet red juice
The last drop gone
Taken without even a thank you.
Now left on a shelf
Cold and forgotten
Wanting waiting
Dreaming of the way it once was.
That awesome feeling
Full up to the brim
Pouring forth with joy
Oh to return to that great time.
Darkness abounds alone
Time creeps on endless
Remembering good times
Wanting waiting goes on and on!
Commotion abounds
Sound almost deafening
Darkness now light
Fullness the delicious sweet liquid returns!
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