PropulsionPropulsion, An Industrially Revised SonnetPropulsion
The sound of violence running by my ears The wicked wind sweeping me along The heavy wheels scrunching over bars of steel mined deep down in the earth
It comes, bound and undiverging from its tracks It's heavy carriages thundering along Pulled by two thousand horses, screaming in a cauldron filled with burning coals
This is seen as the epitome of progress that streaks through the grass
This is the reason we move to the horizon and live our lives by propulsion
Love, no longerI love you, I do and I hope that somehow we can make our lives better than the way they are nowLove, no longer
But I know tomorrow the sun will not shine for you have decided to never be mine
You told me, just now over a nice glass of wine and, although a bit sad, I will be just fine…
Of a sailor...The moment I set foot on the island, I knew something was amiss. But, as commanding officer of five of Her Majesty’s vessels and captain of a galley, I wasn’t about to show my crewmen how I felt. It would surely start a mutiny if they expected their commander to have a weak point, and then it would be too late. Any scenario other than being in charge was out of the question, especially with so many fools on those ships. So I kept my cool and took a few steps up the beach. Of course, I had seen beaches before, both back home as in my twenty-five years of sailing for the Empress, but non of those, not even the ones on the surrounding isleOf a sailor...
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when the man who made the first drawing board got it wrong, what did he go back to?
and keep submitting. Whe can expect gerat things from thee
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just exist, that's enough
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Chivalry is dead. My existence proves it.
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Chivalry is dead. My existence proves it.
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~*AsH*~
--Click the gummy...
=simplyfate and ~Bssnst06 =
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