Wandering Scrybe

Lost because there is no way, still wandering because there is a will.
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Wayward Creed

 

Six slugs in a circle
Lift the hammer from the pin
Pull my finger,
Watch one go

 

Drink the day away
Drink,
To hold your fears at bay

 

The champion rides
Voice to command
Foes from their hides
Justice in iron hand

 

Seven slugs in a row
Pull back the slide
Hammer ready to throw
Take the ride

 

Drink to save the day
Drink,
Drown your fears away

 

Iron falls from hand,
One less slug snug
Watch the champion fall
Succumbs to his own wall

 

Cant drink to reclaim the day,
Cant drink,
Fear takes the final say.

 

 

 

Saturday, May 13, 2006