《Musings of a Devoted Cynic》 A Year in a Page A Year in a Page Swiftly strikes the chill of night, Crisp the air, heady with winter¡¯s embrace. Clarity, unbidden yet unburdened As the world glitters with frosty grace. The turning of the seasons, measuring out time The world slowly turning as it dances about a star.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. A metronome for life; counting out the hours An hourglass called life, sands of the seasons. Lo the sun, the longer days Spring is sprung and green does grow Lives are seeded and seeds are sown. Hope for the future; spring¡¯s anthem. The turning of the seasons, measuring out time The world slowly turning as it dances about a star. A metronome for life; counting out the hours An hourglass called life, sands of the seasons. Sweltering heat, summertime ablaze. Cool air is precious, the world wrapped in the haze. Yet ¡®tween fevered dreams the sky be seen And the fury of life aglow draws a smile. The turning of the seasons, measuring out time The world slowly turning as it dances about a star. A metronome for life; counting out the hours An hourglass called life, sands of the seasons. Autumn comes, the dying days, And the rainbow trees shed their clothes. The harvest time as twilight grows With laughter and joy mankind faces the setting sun Free Hearts Free Hearts Dancing slowly at a partyThis narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. I held my hand in yours And your eyes were so distant As we floated across the floor Perhaps it was then I knew That we were not to be Your wild, joyous, vibrant soul Needed to be free. But I shall not weep for you Or the time we shared Nor beg nor plead nor grave misdeed Know only that I cared. Second Draft At Last Second Draft At Last It took a while; it was a trial and I will admit there was fear That I would never finish, that my vision would fail but now it¡¯s here. A novel how novel even if years late where writer¡¯s block grew and grew.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Let Sisyphus¡¯ burden quake as I carry it, for the block did move. My muse crippled by my plans gone astray yet alive all the same A few words at a time, a long contemplated line ¨C the truth is I was to blame. Dille and dallied; delayed. For greater things I thought lay ahead And yet time got way, I was outplayed and misled By myself, in hubris and greed, but now I see Those many mistakes were the making of me. It took a while; it was a trial and yet I did persevere For no novellete no novella did come together And at last my novel is here. The Books Solace The Book¡¯s Solace Ancient page beneath young fingers, Knowledge timeless in itself, Each new novel a world uncharted, Simply waiting upon a shelf for the next explorer, Worlds unreal, old and new, each biding their time.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. As hands reach for the next experience, the mind waits Breath baited. The cover opens, the contents are skipped, the acknowledgements receive their glance, At last the mind untethers from this material world to places a mere thought away, Yet unreachable by everything except the mind. To be an author, how glorious to thin a thought and put it to the page knowing it will last for evermore. Dead writer¡¯s words haunting in their wisdom at times. The book closes, time has passed. It matters not. Life moves on, more books are read, each an escape from cruel reality but never lasting. The book gathers dust upon its wooden shelf, read no more. It¡¯s owner glances at it fondly but know what lies within, there is no escape to be found within its faded pages. The owner is gone. The book still waits, people pass it by. One day, the book knows, someone will see its battered spine and reach. The mind¡¯s cycle begins again. A Students Plea A Student¡¯s Plea You mortgage my generation. Exchange my hopes for debtIf you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. I ask you politician How big a cut did you get? You lie to make a living Such vile poison do you spew In the ears of every citizen What good do you do? You drink the milk of corruption From capitalism¡¯s breast. To heed no interruption At working class behest. But politician I ask you, And please listen to this plea Forsake your tissue of lies And try representing me. The Betrayed Idealist The Betrayed Idealist I looked upon the world a while And dreamed my place within itThis book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Yet mind¡¯s eye and ideals of worth Were betrayed by cold reality. A dreamer is a lonely thing Raised to forge a path its own Yet compromise shall take its toll Soon the dream will perish To see the good in others, No other pain so bittersweet. For beneath the weight of the world, Good is crushed ¡®neath greed¡¯s feet. But though the dreamer can die, will die May yet the dream live on. The Last Winter The Last Winter I spoke with a misanthrope one morning,Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. He was as happy as can be As he smiled at the horizon¡¯s suns; And the death of humanity. Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. The Death of Beauty The Death of Beauty I saw a crying artist Holding canvas and a flame He spoke of how mere paint and brush Could not express his pain.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I met the last philosopher, He held a needle and a thread And before he sewed shut his lips, He told me philosophy was dead. I spoke to a singer, As she ate a meal of glass and tears No longer would she sing of love To a world that would not hear. I was watching a dancer As she tap danced on nails Spoke in tears of the death of art And put her shoes up for sale. I knew a historian He put a gun against his head And in hushed tones he told me Of all the heroes who had bled I was drinking with a satirist His pint of gasoline I joined him for a cigarette And a world that would not see. Gaias Agony Gaia¡¯s Agony Ye mortal tremble, lest I seek revenge You have used me and abused me, You think yourself my better, but I cannot allow it for forever.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Humanity shall soon earn my ire or shall accept responsibility For you destroy all my forest, And poison all my seas, You choke the air life needs With your ash and HFCs You rip and pit my surface, You take more than you need. You hunt and hunt and kill and kill Enough to make a whole planet bleed You think you may stay my hand, And that is as may be, But heed my dying words human, Your last victim shall be thee. Sleep Sweet Gaia Sleep Sweet Gaia Understanding; pure of purpose, Knowledge; tool of progress,Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Yet what purpose has man As he digs his own grave. Insight; gift of thought, Thought; demand of sapience, Yet if my ancestors could look upon me, Would they not choose to stay up in their tree? And lo now our judgement is come, Not God, not other; Just us Justice with hint of bitter irony, And so the apocalypse of man Is the lullaby of the world. May Ice Befall My Heart May Ice Befall My Heart Begone bittersweet longing in my heartReading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. No more is there a place for thee My beloved is a fragile soul And a friend is all I¡¯ll be. For though hope may spring eternal It has no home in me. For her friendship is rare treasure And so friend is all I¡¯ll be, Cruel people slew her self-confidence, She can¡¯t see what I can see And so she will be my best friend From now to eternity. Teardrops of Entropy Teardrops of Entropy Worlds spin about a dying star, A silent troupe of dancers in the void,Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Fearing not that nova flame Shall inevitably destroy. And so the astronomer will look up and smile At the cold majesty of boundless sky From such distance he sees just beauty While the victims wonder why. Yet worry not life¡¯s discontent, It¡¯s born of fears unseen, And though chaos shall strive forevermore ¡®tis just grey pallor to beauty¡¯s dream. A Pebble of Perspective A Pebble of Perspective Ripples in the pond, just a stone¡¯s throw away,The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. And as the pebble sinks, returns tranquillity. Time passes slowly, such a peaceful world beneath. We see not the blood, the anguish, the grief. As things strive, ¡®neath the pool. Too small to matter but to themselves. To them our power is beyond comprehension, belief Would they call us God if us they could perceive? The Last Redoubt The Last Redoubt Dancing slowly in a chemical shower Finding ways to count the hours The flow stops but you don¡¯t care Decon, econ, it¡¯s a cruel world out there.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Bouncing a ball into a thick steel door, Counting the dents that came before Thump, thump, thump like a cold mechanism As you dream of a place outside this prison. Tapping away at a well worn touchscreen A relic of times that used to be. The bunker¡¯s safe, sterile and clean. The outside is barren and ugly; obscene Hydroponics, such a bright cheerful green As you work and toil for barely a bean. You¡¯re told it¡¯s rationing or population control But dying slowly is no choice at all. At last too much, you¡¯ve taken your leave. Overrode the controls, took a second to grieve And now gaze in shocked awe at the devastation A planet man-made barren by radiation. Dreams of Destiny Dreams of Destiny Dream gently through the nights Thoughts unbound by human plightThe narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. No wars or hurt nor masquerade Dream the tune the piper paid. An ideal world forevermore Truth and justice, fair in law. A world unbidden, a world unseen A perfect world that¡¯s never been Waking slowly, dim¡¯s the light Back to worry, fear and plight. But though the world is quite obscene Please dear dreamer, try to live the dream Listen To The Quiet Listen to the Quiet True silence, such a rare thingEnjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Loud by contrast, eerie by right Ever sought but never found. To search sky, land or sea And underground, trapped with the rhythm of the Earth. Find a quiet room, lock the door; Hold your breath then listen, For the sound between the heartbeats. Still silence eludes. Only in vacuum shall ever be found A thing so loud as the absence of sound. Mortgaged Futures Mortgaged Futures I¡¯m back again, as I¡¯ve been back before. Circles within circles and endless corridors.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Time passes, passes me by. Stuck in limbo as I study. A life on hiatus to get to a life in debt. University, cold, no compromise. Struggling for funds it strangles the weak Bleeds them dry. A hollow carcass refusing to die, as it Lures in prey with promises of a future. Yet we¡¯ve mortgaged tomorrow; no worse Been mortgaged ourself. We never asked for this; did not vote for it. Fuck you all. Marathon Runner Marathon Runner A chrysanthemum of pain with each staggering, stuttered step. Agony at each tread, each a snowflake of it. Subtle, nuanced torture, embraced by necessity. The marathon runner races on.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Razorblades of air cut into lungs, Each laboured breath a vital rush Of enthralling icy burn at the back of the throat. Others, the competitors, suffer alongside yet apart. None can spare the air for speech. The marathon runners race on. Sweated trickles through the furrows of a brow steeped in concentration. Perseverance vies with perspiration, As hard work¡¯s salt drips into the eyes. Break stride, a wipe of breath ¡®fore a panting burd remakes the speed; takes the lead Hours of effort and the battle is won. Triumph. Racer race, forevermore Like the runner to Marathon, In days of yore. Too Great, Too Long Too Great, Too Long The great artist becomes his own clich¨¦If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. A star burned so bright that the embers stay Trails left burnt in the mind Groundbreaker, be they painter or songmaker The ground you break becomes a crater. Until all that remains is the old fool, ¡°I liked them way before it was cool.¡± Whilst bigger fools look on in scorn It¡¯s unoriginal they¡¯ll call To the very soul of inspiration Who started it all. Future In Flames Future in Flames What a future we shall sow,A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The things our successors will never know, Should be hunger, shall be trees Could be slums but will be bees Is this rain or is it tears That the world weeps. Darkness looms, and Earth shall sleep To wake again nevermore. Choked by greedy grasping claws If the world shall end in nuclear flame, How long ¡®til life shall rise again? Determined Determined To stand alone is to stand forgotten, Yet there is nobility in the standing.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Cast down by mortal hands, thy enemy, thy friend. To stand with or stand against Man may decide the fate of man but a man may not Yet one man can be all the difference. An infinity of potential, trapped in the humdrum of everyday. To see the world in a grain of sand and care not. Apathy the enemy of hope and endeavor. Master it or be mastered The choice is yours. A Hands Turn A Hand¡¯s Turn Raise tired eyes up to the sun,If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Sweat hangs heavy ¡®pon the brow Labour reaps what labour sows But of his toil, fruit shall not know. Taken by those who rule, pompous And fat on others work. They call it fair and just; The kleptocratic ruse Yet the iron fist shall ever wane ¡®til working man works for working man¡¯s gain. Temporary Time Temporary Time Eternity, so brief a thing In the time past time what the reality bring?Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. For time is a property of the world we know When the universe dies where will it go? Forever, not as long as you think A lifetime so short you daren¡¯t even blink Time is temporary, a human construct, A feeble attempt to describe what we cannot. Fourth dimension never slowing, Until you see how fast you¡¯re going. Time is leaving, no more now and then The future will be history, we don¡¯t know when. Wiki-Walk Wiki-Walk Wiki-walker take a wander, Through the digital wonder over yonder,Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Spare a second, spare an hour Wandering through the binary tower Lost in time, thoughts displaced, Lost forever in cyberspace Not your fault, the allure¡¯s too strong The information age, power gone wrong Interest piques as knowledge flows and flows, Weblink and weblink seeing where it goes. Enlightenment¡¯s pursuit via electron flow Down the rabbit hole but how bright it glows Wiki-walker take a wander, There¡¯s another link over yonder¡­ Education Degradation Education Degradation School is hard but you¡¯re doing well, History¡¯s dull and science is hell.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The best years of your life, Or so you¡¯re told. And you¡¯ll look back fondly If you grow old. Your future rests in your own hands Just meet the deadlines and the demands A pity it¡¯s all lies, a charade, a scam The politicians lurk with soulless eyes At a generation they must despise. Poised, they destroy the future you¡¯ve been sold, Remortgage your life for the promise of gold. Systemic markdown it¡¯s brain drain falsification Just one symptom of the degradation Of the concept of state education. An Unremembered Tale An Unremembered Tale I stood alone amongst friends,The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. As we faced down the beast, Fell were its claws and dire was its renown Yet we had no more fear of it but For the lives already taken. I stood alone amongst the dead And gazed deep into the maw of fate Which sought to bring me to an end. Twas not courage that bade me raise my shield, Nor valour that made me swing my sword But defiance at the fate that awaits Those with too much adventure born. Best Friends Foibles Best Friends¡¯ Foibles James; stalwart soul and pacifist true Friendship means a lot to you Rapier wit, master of repartee You always have a lot to say Yet listen with an open soul Alas life as taken its toll Exuberance cannot hide the factIf you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. You feel the weight of the world Upon your back. Eddie; quiet, softly spoken, your defining traits, A being too kind to know of hate Seldom a word but we always listen The kind, wise council of your opinion Your calm reserve, it masks a permanent smile Quiet nature seeking quiet places But you have the drive to find them. Tom; sarcasm personified with desert dry smile Always your own person with your own style Yet that apologetic stoop with each step you take Scared confidence would scare others; a kind mistake A love of learning, no matter the lesson Without number, your harmless obsessions. A wealth of knowledge, no boring conversation Up for almost anything without hesitation. Armand; constantly thinking with cold observation Seldom emotion just cool calculation Wise beyond years yet the curiosity of youth Abrasively caring yet somehow aloof Logic be thy master Emotion be thy bane. Myself; a heavily flawed individual But for my friends. The Faces of Hope The Faces of Hope Hope is such a fragile thing Brittle and beautiful as diamond Yet like diamond hard in times of need Never was where a rock more valuable than hope.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Hope the solace when trouble comes Hope the salve when dark deeds done Hope for the future, hope from the past Nothing but hope with those who came last Yet hope, sweet fragile thin Is not so pure as it could have been. For hope is the captain of inaction, It will get better soon the sufferers say When cruel deeds to to those around may go unanswered. It is hope that stays the next victim¡¯s hand It shall not be me who suffers from this As around them their fellows starve. Keep calm, carry on can seldom be wrong Except when among you the enemy lurks. Hope¡¯s duality could ne¡¯er be more cruel Saviour or slayer, balm or bane. Guardian and reaper of the voiceless yet slain. Twist The Numbers Twist the Numbers Numbers now lie, yes it is true Numbers never lie, but people do.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Statistically statistics are often misused Mathematicians given money and told what the numbers should do. To interpret as numbers dictate, A bank balance with a lot of zeroes. Well paid, soulless think tank heroes. Raw data, the art of the stratified sample. Minimum bias, untouched by opinion. Numbers never lie, if only we¡¯d listen. Contentment Contentment Contentment, a soft word as words go Quick to come, unbidden oft unsoughtStolen novel; please report. Yet leaves the same, chaos in its passing Pain fears it, terror breaks beneath it. For a few moments free of existential angst. Smile, for ¡®tis not fun, joy nor mirth Contentment is a gentle thing. The tender warmth of love held near, A good meal with old friends, A success that matters to you alone The smallest things give a quiet smile. Greed in deed Greed in deed He who takes with fire, Greed shall be his water, An eternal third, the world engrippedThis story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Consumed in a madness that shall consume the man Greed is good, and lo it is terrible The greed of man shall become its own parable, Wanter, want, want but never need. Building altars to the great god Greed. Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. Darkness, dear friend Darkness, dear friend Afloat in darkness, I embrace the night.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Cool calm tranquility, Devoid of fright. The moonlight is sweet Upon my cheeks And cool upon my tongue. The smell of peace and Promise of solitude. Reminds me of when I was young. Twilight dreams of made up things, That lurk in the shadows of home. But take me out into the realms of night And surely I shall roam. Speak softly Speak softly Words said unwisely in anger, Fiery in rage¡¯s red,Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Cannot be taken back In the peace of tomorrow. Shattered friendships, broken hearts, Hold your tongue ¡®fore it starts. Debate and argument, the twin son of Janus. One peaceful, one of anger. The art of passionate speaking turns both ways. So be careful what you say to a friend, And so friend they¡¯ll stay, Until the end of the end of days. Blades in the Night Blades in the Night He whom gently in darkness tread,Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The shadow his garb and death his get. Killer in name and deed, Watch the blade¡¯s caress, the crimon gush. An artist to remain his work unclaimed. For a fool is caught, a fool is blamed. To dance by hemp or lose one¡¯s head. A cutthroat business. Not immoral, but amoral, a fool takes sides. A high risk game to so entice. Blades in the night: Just name your price. Hold em or fold em Hold ¡®em or fold ¡®em Round the table the players sit, Features schooled as they say hitSupport the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Cards face down whilst they hide Every thought and emotion behind liar¡¯s eyes Whilst they jovially hat about everything and nothing, Trying to disguise the fact that they¡¯re bluffing. Flush with confidence, Straight faced but for the eyes Steely gaze to conceal their surprise At the river Is it excitement of fear That¡¯s making them quiver? Success and defeat, hand in hand, Hand by hand. The winner takes it all. Fear The Victim Fear the Victim Nature red in tooth and clawIf you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Blood runs down in rivers Magnificent beast brought so low The crimson seeps from the bullet wound. Disproportionate response A shark would call it man Fear the monster in the dark Yet fear not the monster inside? Man¡¯s inhumanity, the dichotomous war Destroyer, despoiler, protagonist But fear nature red in tooth and claw. As Yet Untitled As Yet Untitled A world of imagination, beneath a paper skin. Beatific made up things and unnamed horrors dwell within.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Hidden as if by guiding hand Between covers colourful and yet so bland As each competes to draw the eye To have to choose, oh why why why? Every bookstore so bittersweet For if only one more novel I could keep. Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. The Magicians Stand Magician¡¯s Stand This and no more. The ancient youth Declared as tears lay claim to his cheeks.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. With the calm of the damned he turned, Too burdened by heart to carry on. Fire in his hand, water upon his cheeks He walked towards those who had slew The strangers for whom he wept Air and earth answered his call. With a wave he struck them down But not enough. The army marched on, overcame him. The legend outlived them all. Underachiever Underachiever Underachiever, dare to weep The goals of old are dead and cold The future looks too bleak. And the fear at night is all that holds you tight.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. For behind your eyes are things to which you¡¯ll never speak, Stoicism is your religion now, stone-faced in its creed. The chains of failures past hold you back. The only failure left to scream. Of all the things you wish you¡¯d done Of all the things you¡¯ll never be. So you eat your daily bread, There¡¯s an indent in your seat, A pile of books yet left unread In one drawer a broken man¡¯s dreams. But I say to you you¡¯ll rise again, Dare once more to be To rage and rage at life¡¯s cruel play To weep at its beauty. Life is not over yet, the road lies long before thee. I tell you this underachiever For underachiever you are me. Darkly Dreaming 2 Darkly Dreaming Darkly dreaming I dare not wake Lest softly creeping night shall takeThis book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. With gentle touch, everything I shall ever love. In my mind, in my heart, an icy touch. Myself apart, watching in the backseat As I drift through life. Aloof, apart, detached to still my heart For if it suffers but a single beat Then shall my grief consume Dream and hopes and possibilities. Mayhaps the winter¡¯s bite inside Protects me from the cold cruel world. The Fight The Fight Time moves quickly and yet so slowIf you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The fight consumes the senses As your hands move without permission Mind can¡¯t keep up, thought forbideen Bodies move, strike, collide; a flash of pain. A second¡¯s pause ¡®fore the foe strikes again. War in microcosm against two foes Your opponent and yourself. The master the latter and lo The fight is yours. Normal Normal There¡¯s no such thing as normal I swear to you it¡¯s true.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Take an average of the human race, I guarantee it isn¡¯t you. Normal is now, normal is the status quo. Abstract, cruel and pointless. Normal doesn¡¯t care, it doesn¡¯t know The judgement that it passes, When you¡¯re feeling low. Strange is interesting Eccentric is rather fun I know which I¡¯d rather be Run normal run¡­ Ambivalence Malevolence Ambivalence Malevolence If good people own the world,Stolen story; please report. Then why is there still pain? Indifferent ambivalence. Therein lies the blame. Everyday antipathy eats, It consumes the mortal mind. And once quite caring people It shall soon render blind. Cruelty, born of enmity, Soon shall lie dead. But cruelty born of indifference Forever the danger in our heads. A Dream of Happiness A Dream of Happiness I dream of happinessStolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. A dream for you, a dream for me Of all the wonders life could be. For life is magical, lie is wonderful Cruel as can be. My eyes are shrouded, eyes are clouded; And yet I see. All the achievements, the bereavements. The possibilities life can be. For life is beautiful, magical, it¡¯s wonderful, Eternal; yet brief as can be. Meditation Meditation Eyes closed with deep breath The man on his knees embraces calm to listenEnjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. The universe his concerto Nature his orchestra before The mind¡¯s eye turns inwards. Clear the mental canvas Shrug off the cloak of doubt To ponder: Everything Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. Weight/Freedom Weight/Freedom A measured malaise to pass the days Fun frowns from the sidelines as apathy misses the goal.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. I wish I knew just what to do To put joy back in my soul. Deep in the night my soul takes flight The weight of expectation is gone. Such sweet solace in the silence If only all time could be thus. But day returns, my soul yet yearns For meaning beneath the sun. As morning broke, with spark of hope Perhaps today will be fun? Darkly Dreaming Darkly Dreaming Darkly dreaming, dare not sleepA case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. For from my mind a monster creeps. Know not mercy, pushed past insane. The wailing demon inside my brain Fed voraciously on suppressed pain, And stress, anger, mental strain. The cynical darkness behind my smile as I wait. For the next curveball thrown by Fate. There it is, but here¡¯s another, let¡¯s juggle. Resilience snaps. The demon wins its struggle. Dreaming Slowly Dreaming Slowly I¡¯m dreaming slowly; of the sights I haven¡¯t seen. The murmurs in the darkness and the voices in my dreams.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. I forged worlds for words and lived in them for days Now my only wish is to see them on the page. I travelled alone across deserts and I¡¯ve warred alongside friends. Half of them only I could see but both were real come the end. My hours pass so pleasantly, enraptured by mind¡¯s eye¡¯s gaze. If only you could see what I can see; and forever be at play. Sometimes this world seems so big and yet also so small. Lives defined by cold tickboxes and no time to live them all. To Rise Anew To Rise Anew By what fell hand does man kill man? What dire motive could it be?Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Is greed truly measured in lustrous gold, Or sticky red ichor of the casualties? But how the crowds cheer To the hollow fa?ade Of capitalism¡¯s reign. Dreams of empire in every heart No hope, no love, just pain. And so rising from deep slumber Truth opens weary eyes Pale imitation is propaganda Gone is the vanguard of lies Rise, rise ye oppressed masses Walk out in to the day Heed not the liar¡¯s call Time to live our way. Heroes of My Youth Heroes of My Youth Where are the heroes of yesterday? What of the parts they were meant to play?This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Legends past, their achievements gone The river of time, it grew too strong. No more heroes, pray end the age A generation now upstaged The revolutionary slain by ire The musician cliched his heart¡¯s desire The starving artists starved to death The singer age made short of breath Shattered idols, shattered dreams A world the new young never see The heroes of yesterday are gone The duty of us now, make the dream live on. Writers Block Writer¡¯s Block Liquid warmth in a bottle; in a glassIf you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Candlelight upon the desk as time burns low The glow enough for tired thoughts to see The abyss upon the page To stare and stare forever at the cruel bleached white Of the emptiness of the mind. Consumed, burnt out, the paper cares not As it takes and breaks your plots. Writer, writer ye poor soul, Your encore is a trial. As morning looms, your light subsumed Rest your head and sleep awhile. Take it e-asy Take it e-asy The geeks have formed a nation, An island of isolation, where they¡¯ll be left alone,This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. e-lectronic liberation, the disinherited seeking sensation, yet fear not pain amongst their own. A world of dreams and made up things The taste of freedom upon a screen Years of pain for others gain Bullying, so bitter but now our identity is at hand. But now, so soon, our time has passed The thieves of friend would take the path Paved by outcasts yet walked its last. In Nothingness Absolution In Nothingness Absolution Despair is the gravity of the mind, The leaden weight upon Einstein¡¯s sheet It drags me down into the pit where the dragon sleepsDid you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. The hungry one who gnaws and bites and takes takes takes Until just the shell remains. Staring out at a world I once thought bright For what was lighting it was me. There is no light now; there are just stolen dreams. Memories of what could have been Within the box not even hope remains. It should not be so but it gladdens me. No goals, no plan, no expectations In aimlessness I shall not fail. Nought to try; it should hurt and yet Oblivion is a tranquil water. To float forever upon it a peace. Truth? Truth? Am I the dreamer or am I the dream? My mind, your mind, join the dots, see the truth.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. What is it? A minefield of objective and subjective; The liar¡¯s playground. For if an objective is subjective And the subjective is the objective how can we see see? Is this the way it¡¯s meant to be? Liars preach hellfire whilst power plays word games. Wars thought for others gain; we suffer beneath it. Paint me a picture, colour it red. I¡¯ll tell you now: The truth is dead. Twilight Twilight Mellow sun caresses the horizon gently The sky lights up in fire¡¯s hues, burning for the dying dayThis story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Eternal beauty in half an hour, then fade to grey, black and blue. Let the clouds part. Fragile world beneath the tapestry of stars, Enveloping humanity in its own insignificance, Yet the chill air is so sweet. Frantic world in sudden calm, peace in infinity¡¯s embrace. The night consumes vision, reveals the fa?ade. See the world in the twilight hours. For Our Future For Our Future My sight grows dim and weak, I pray, for no more light do I see.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The candle of hope dares not flicker, as the scales of fate weigh us, weigh upon us. We know what we are. For if a planet could grow a tumour, Then a most malignant tumour are we. Humans. We grow across Earth¡¯s surface and give unto it our poisons. Indeed a cancer are we. Yet our allotted time is not over. We can still turn back the clock. A flicker in the darkness, let hope begin anew. Upon A Setting Sun Upon a Setting Sun To gaze upon a setting sun, And watch the world go dark. But as light fadesThis story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. And day does end, Oh the beautiful sky. Such colour upon the clouds, Such detailed shades. And a world of silhouettes. Transient beauty in pink and reds So to gaze upon a setting sun, And watch the world go dark. Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. A Modern Politician A Modern Politician Under a sky of misinformation, And on a land of lies. Dancing to the hands of their puppet-mastersStolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Lives the politician. As offerings to its moneyed gods It gives our hopes and dreams On bended knee it begs For crumbs off the puppeteers tables. It sees an election as a popularity contest, It sees your vote as its basic inhuman right. Despising its fellow contenders and making a mockery Of honest speech. Unite idealists, whomever you may be, Against this creature, be you left or right. Bring back debate and honesty, Dance not to liars tunes. Let votes be for what they voted for. And democracy reign again. Unfairweather Feelings Unfairweather Feelings The rain it pounds the concrete and the sky is overcast, Whilst all the weary and wise wait for the storm to pass But I am not weary and I¡¯ve never been accused as wiseIf you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. They do not see as I do see; so observe it through my eyes. The stormclouds dance across the sky; the raindrops are at play No stately waltz but mad cascade upon a stormy summer¡¯s day The rain lies warm upon my sodden skin, already my clothes are drenched. Rejoice! The storm cares no so why should I? Let wind and rain wash away all sorrow. Let it clean the dreariness and the boredom from weary souls For tragedy and infamy and triumph, all shall pass, as the storm shall pass. But let now embrace the freedom of the storm. Outcast Outcasts Outcast Outcasts Neckbeard, a slur we took without complaint The slob still at home, your scarecrow for hateReading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Unwashed, friendless, ever the man out of place. We built our own culture, just to be displaced Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. Thought Experiment Thought Experiment Cognito ergo sum; I think therefore I am.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. But whyfore am I e¡¯er confused? If my own existence I can prove. Consciousness self-evident; all senses made irrelevant. For observations not of thought itself are uncertain in their evidence. And if the world is but a fever dream then what a dream to see. Did I dream this world; or is it dreaming me? The Man of Many Faces The Man of Many Faces Hobbies are a layered thing Facets of a man If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.Through which outside eyes might see the gem, the whole. But who are we really? Which face should we show? And who is it we want to be? Do we even know? Time passes, facets become fractal Such complex simplicity as the mind yet grows The face I show I¡¯ve surely learnt, is the face I am To throw off your disguises. The making of a man. As Yet Unnamed As Yet Unnamed Time well spent in deliberation Shall resemble procrastination.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Wasted time in wasted lives The hope forlorn; the dreams that died. Grasp one firmly, ne¡¯er let go. Ever forward, step not back. Life is cruel and so attack, For hope is eternal and dreams shall last. Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. Old Mort Old Mort Death dreams gently of sharpening his scythe.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. A single clean swipe to take your life. One world to the next; the subtle knife. Just a gentle nod as he sends you on Consummate professional since time began. Does not care for your word or deed, Nor darkest action in hour of need. To the reaper all the same, He does not judge, he does not blame. Born of duty, on he send, Bringing peace, at the end. Liars Demise Liar¡¯s Demise We the disenfranchised, do hereby undersign Our firm intent against your dire portentsStolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. And wish to reclaim what is thine. No foul crusade, not media blockade shall save you all this time. The working class it rises. You tremble as it wakes, your shallow lies, your thin disguise. The cold veneer breaks. You spin a web of lies, yet the party line rings hollow. A cult of personality that we no longer follow. And now we have awoken, we see but one solution: Vive la revolucion. Omnia Mort Omnia Mort Time draws to a close The Universe holds its breath.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Life without life; not even memory Nothing but data at the death. So goes the doom of doom itself The last seconds trickle by Unrememberd, unnoticed, unloved Is how the Universe shall die. All of everything, slips to nothing None behold Gravity¡¯s distress Hopes and dreams and great misdeeds, None of it matters at the death. With Propaganda Aforethought With Propaganda Aforethought We¡¯ve been here before And we¡¯ll be here again,This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it The drums of war sounding Now and then. You¡¯d think we¡¯d learn Mayhaps understand Yet still we kill At another¡¯s command. Hollow bitter lies which we¡¯ve been sold before Are made good and right by the drums of war Put down that gun Let us kill no more And head not the drums The drums of war. Dream Upon A Mirror Blue Dream Upon A Mirror Blue Limpid lake of perfect calm Deeper, clearer blue than sapphires dare compare,If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. A beauty born of tranquility chilled Lies shattered beneath the mountain¡¯s contempt Raging white froth spills forth from the wound Peace¡¯s broken mirror, shattered, now spreads Opaque fury across clear azure calm. Then peace one more, beauty; nature¡¯s great bounty with lustre the hand of Man but dreams The lake is silent, the air crisp, awaiting the mountain¡¯s gift of hate again. Dichotomy Dichotomy Fear of death is fear of life, To fight for peace is to create strifeStolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. To declare a war on terror is to war against war itself. Self defeating dichotomy, man¡¯s weakness. Madness carried every day, a relic of lies told to oneself. Give lies a paintbrush and they shall give a man. Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. Chase The Singed Chase the Singed Let¡¯s play us a game, I¡¯ll laugh and you¡¯ll chase. Psychological warfare, I¡¯ll taunt your disgrace.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. How¡¯d that taste? As poison seeps into your lungs, you¡¯re stuck in my trail. As I run round and round drop the goo then fling: You¡¯re a snail. I¡¯m the boot. Grind your health down for loot; as insanity potion makes your attacks a giggle. Driving you bonkers with this sick-mad fifth skill Bolder than bold, I¡¯ll run through your team and you¡¯ll chase. Until you all run out of breath So singularly pleased at causing my death But as I greyscreen all I¡¯m typing is ¡®Plz¡¯ Cause my team¡¯s at the dragon, call me the Singed police. Digital Minds Digital Minds The geeks have formed a nation, a place to call their own. A world to build, a land yet explored, a place to make their homeThe story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Amongst peers, where they can lie about their fears. Pretend they¡¯re not alone. Pixelated people make simulated sounds, Building a community where their detractors aren¡¯t around. To talk and talk for hours, about their beloved obsessions. With friends, belonging and newfound power They overcome their dispossession. And wake to realise that at last their time has come. The time of brawn is over The rule of the mind has just begun. Ade to Olcahol Ade to Olcahol Eloquence in a glass, sweet bubbles of amber hue.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Shyness¡¯ cure, rambler¡¯s bane. Sing, dance, shout to brewer¡¯s art. Time together as chemicals sing The affluence of inkohol Slurred speech over profound things Dreamers talk of solvent¡¯s dreams Off-key songs danced off-beat Compromised balance and inexplicable heat Yet smiles and cheer beer born of good beer When times are hard, alcohol is here. The Fourth Mirror The Fourth Mirror Time passes, people change, To our past we would seem strange, But would we smile at we have become?This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Have we fulfilled the dreams of when we were young? Or have we forged our path anew? Hopes and dreams and desire true, Your bucket list, how much did you do? Mind afire, time ablaze. Do you recognise yourself through temporal haze? Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. Tea Tea It¡¯s a funny little ritual, this drink that I adore. Two spoonfuls of inedible crushed leaf in a pot. Just add water.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Bitter-steeped refreshment. Mellowing but with a buzz. From Japan to the UK, such a cultural fuss. To keep calm and carry on, a wise man puts the kettle on. Such gentle addiction, drink it bittersweet Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. Mankind Mankind Fury, rage and wrath afire At the word that drew my ire,If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. No thought, no care, no sage decree, No kindness born of sanctity Just greed and gluttony; use, use use, The apex species that just consumes. Unfortunately due to the shortness of this poem I was unable to post it without this note as RoyalRoad is not exactly built for a poetry archive. I fear that this note may become a common sight after each poem though I should at least be thankful I haven''t written much in the way of Haiku. Make the Stand Make the Stand When the world is dark And life draws to a close, When you¡¯re about to dieUnauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. And no one knows. Make the stand. When tyranny does rise again And fear walks through the streets, When fascism has reared its ugly head, And no one dares to speak. Make the stand. When freedom is but a dream And your dreams are not your own When opinions are illegal And you¡¯re feeling all alone. Make the stand. When the numbers are against you And death a guarantee, When hope is but a memory And oppression is the norm. Make the stand. Stand alone or stand together But stand. Idle Musings Idle Musings My muse is dead, muse is gone The pen lays silent; its ink dried on. For inspiration has no price Yet I cannot afford,Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. The strength of will, The power of mind, To write a single word. Her wings be cut, her voice be silent, Tears are all she gave. My muse is dead, my muse is gone If only I¡¯d pressed save. To stare forever at an empty page Writer¡¯s block in writer¡¯s hand To look upon a pristine canvas And wish ¡®twere not so bland Mayhaps inspiration is like lightning Energy pure and true And yet if it be lightning One strike will never do All alone, empty headed, deadlines stared down dead time. And yet when the mood takes me My muse is once more mine. Chess Chess The opening; play it textbook or go off the rails. Hours of learning in the realm without imagination, The correct moves are black and white, night and day. The dullest way to learn to play. Or go off-book, have an adventure, break the mould,Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Watch your opponent as their strategy devolves. Out of their comfort zone, out of their minds, Watch as the world crumbles. The midgame; a clear oasis, filled with poison, Dynamic and deadly, Damocles¡¯ blade ever sharp. The beauty of fine poetry, call it the Tell Tale Heart. Two minds at war, the battleground between them. Tension ramps as pressure builds, Adrenaline floods until the dam breaks Until one player makes a big mistake. The endgame; logic becomes god. Control the space or regicide shall be your fate. Small advantages become titans upon the board. The cold, heartless mop up of battles past. The lone forlorn pawn''s path barred forever by his counterpart. The bishop off-colour, his foe close but forever away. With consummate precision, the victor strikes true. Living in the Time of Distraction Living in the Time of Distraction Digital age on a rampage But the mind¡¯s eye doesn¡¯t mind Boredom is as bored doesThis content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Yet time passes in tick-tock trickling seconds While hours torrent past. Alas alas the age of distraction, Mankind enslaved to its slave where he sits. Information saturation but mostly its bullshit Trivial nonsense on displays in Forever¡¯s shop window Outside birds twitter and fools play war game Whilst the real fools wage war. Apathy, psychopathy, sociopathy, a rose by another name; the stench of suffering habituated via an LCD screen. Watch in HD, 3D, as the world pays for the American Dream. Bad weather, Good times Bad weather, Good times Fog encompasses the world, A mantle of solitude to rest upon my shouldersThe narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Never has a cloak fit so well. A frosty cold, the work of a mad artist upon the chilled earth. Gaze in wonder at it the breath deeply, Savour the soothing burn of the air on the way down. Then exhale, admire the patterns in the mist. Drizzle gently upon my cheeks, Washing away and cleansing all things born Of anger, pain and grief. Bad weather, suits me well. The Man I Was Supposed To Be The Man I Was Supposed To Be There walks the man I was supposed to be His head held high, his emotions free. He¡¯s achieved my goals free from adversityEnsure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Learned, wise and in harmony. With the world around him. And he knows what he¡¯s achieved; and it has made him proud He¡¯s not stood alone, a face lost in the crowd. For he¡¯s made his mark, and he¡¯s made it loud. He gives not a single thought, to if it¡¯s allowed. He has not suffered as I have suffered; he knows not my pain He thinks not in terms of profit or gain He knows not the abyss, the pit formed by loss He does not look at his choices and question the cost. I see him walk by but he does not see me. I¡¯m a better man than I was supposed to be. In Memoriam In Memoriam A friend of mine is dying, and there¡¯s nothing I can do. A friend of mine is dying and I¡¯ve no one to talk to. And it¡¯s no act of God, no last applause, no ¡®it¡¯s just bad luck.¡¯The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Because the sad refrain, in light of day; the doctors don¡¯t give a fuck. A man too weak to stand, from blood loss and malnutrition. Not an emergency said the emergency department. He¡¯ll just overtax the system. They did not give him blood nor food; they ran only one test. Then the smiling man with the stethoscope ¨C he sent him to his death. There is but one conclusion, and the last line shall depress. A thing of beauty now is gone. Rest in peace the NHS. Tired of Being Angry Tired of Being Angry I¡¯m tired of being angry, of this heat within my chest. Yet as I think of giving up my grudge I know that rage is best. For I will not cry surrender, for that way lies despair.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. My life would be so easy, if I didn¡¯t not care. What happened to compassion? Why is kindness a dirty word? Victory at any cost? My vision becomes blurred. I remember a better time, or perhaps I¡¯m just na?ve. It was full of hope for a future I now know I shall not see. Once in a generation recessions twice, and a pandemic rather rare. As we face the mindless derision, of our brainwashed forebears. ¡°Pull yourself up by your bootstraps.¡± So proclaims purest poppycock. But how can you explain to a bootlicker The meaning of paradox. I¡¯m tired of being angry But I¡¯ll be damned if I stop. Warmbanks Warmbanks I learned a new word today And it left me aghast A concept far too bleak and cruelIf you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. For ghosts of Christmas past. For Ebenezer wept, Even one as mean as he Because even a loan shark knows That people need to eat And heat. Blessed heat But they did not just kill the golden goose. They carved it up for meat. * Honestly it was hard to put into words just how horrified I was when the idea of warmbanks was announced, it told me just how far the UK had fallen as a nation that there might ever be a need for them. Still I did try to put it into words, or at least verse, but frankly to do my true feelings justice this poem would have been nothing but expletives. My Heart, My Artist My Heart, My Artist Why did I choose to love her? Why do I love her still? Was it her unnurtured tenderness? Was it that she bore none ill will?Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! When I close my eyes I see Her dimples to frame her smile Her sweet and nourishing kindness Invites me to sit and stay awhile. She carries no hate in her heart Though the world''s been cold and cruel And when she dreams, she dreams of art Another canvas soon lies full Of sunlight wrought in red and gold Of vibrant daffodils. Why I love her can not be distilled In stanzas and in meter I''m afraid to say there is but one way You''d simply have to meet her. Misbegotten Gift Misbegotten Gift It is not for his liver that Prometheus weeps Nor his failure to gain his long earned surcease But that in his kindness he wrought the great doom of manIf you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Who ponders not if he should but just if he can. In the flames of ambition, in the fires of greed. He takes what he wants but not what he needs. And forges his weapons thus war never dies. And what of kind Prometheus? He watches. He cries. For it was not for bloodshed his gift was to be used. Nor for the venting of man''s ire. But to warm them as they wait in dead of night As they sleep beside the fire. The Devouring One It hungers with patience, just waiting out the clock For the devouring one knows, deep in my bones That I must surely stop. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. I know not the day. I know not the hour. I know I must strive forwards on what remains of willpower Then slump; exhaustion takes hold, my muse she flees Just weary, worn, embittered me. Old before my time, old still in my prime. This cage of flesh not enough endorphins it provides. Slumber, shuffle on, through dreary days turned weary days It matters not when the watercolour world was once oil. Twenty-Four Twenty Four Why with twenty four hours in the day, do I find none with which to play?This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Two to exercise and my good health, ten forsaken in the name of wealth. Eight sacrificed to the Morphean abyss, one to food so I may still exist. So what of the hour that yet remains? It ponders the others and just complains. Kidnapped By My Mum Kidnapped By My Mum "It''s just a little errand." She says once we''re in the car As another trip to the shops Instead crosses Bristol, near and far.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I feel like a knight errant But what then is my quest? By the third detour My patience is not its best "We''ll just grab a takeaway." Becomes three hours down the pub It''s so terribly hard to protest These tokens of her love When I get home I''m exhausted And the clock says the day is done There''s nothing quite for killing plans Like being kidnapped by my mum. Some Stars Burn Brightly Some Stars Burn Brightly A fusion-flash of inspiration before they stand at the peak They do not know how far they''ll go, how far their light will reachSupport creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. But that''s not why they do it. Perhaps it''s just as well. That they do it not for us but do it for themselves. To prove simply that it can be done. To damn the naysayers. To just have fun. To forge the path. To light the way. Their trials another form of play. And now at sunset the track is laid Gone is one who''s welcome was never outstayed Now is for us to walk in giant''s footsteps To make the most of what they''ve left. To Escape To Escape Triviality is the anchor, quake before its weight You cannot comprehend my rancor, as it holds my mind in place.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. It grows in me like a cancer, it guides my fall from grace. Let imagination be my answer. For triviality begets my hate Let me be lost in time. Let me be lost in space. In my mind''s eye dread battles unfold. Kaleidoscope worlds my hands shall trace. The Writer Undone My keyboard it lays silent. My fingers they lie still. My characters breath out sweet relief: It''s only time I kill. For doubt besets me. My words I regret thee. That my writing might cause ill.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. I did not seek it. Did not believe it Yet once heard it undid me. And now I flounder In words lie power And mine hurt someone. =============================================================== As you can probably guess this one''s a bit on the personal side. I never imagined that my first novel might hurt a friend and it was a blow I was not prepared for. Honestly until I wrote this and got it off my chest I was genuinely struggling to write. The Enemy From My Bed The Enemy From My Bed From my bed I watch my enemy As I pray for a mistakeIf you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Yet they win inevitably Their hands have no fingers I may break. They move with a steady, certain pace Round and round the old clock''s face Tick, tick, tick to bring the dawn The muggy night makes sleep forlorn. I dream of sleep until sleepless dreams are done. A National Malaise / An International Disgrace A National Malaise / An International Disgrace Our Prime Minister gave a speech this morning And what a speech it was. It had assonance and sibilance and never mind the dissonanceThis book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Slowly growing in your mind. For its craven, crass and cruel enough To feel like some kind of test. But the liar says he''s not lying For lying''s what liars do best. He spoke of British values, to which I offer this rejoint Real values don''t come with a pound sign and decimal point. I live in a nation the world has rightly left behind When was it we forgot the second half of humankind? Her Smile Her Smile I walk in to be greeted by a thousand volt smileThis tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Her mischievous giggle; her inimitable style. The music of her mirth. The delight in her life. It makes me want to pave the way To clear her path of strife. I''d never met a girl so sheltered I''d never met a girl so abused. I want to help her spread her wings And ask her to be my muse Asylum Asylum Everyone needs a safe place to stayStolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. And what a world that I have to say it. Persecuted, prosecuted and that''s just by us To fear the weak and vulnerable Should be a form of madness. How did they come to be so despised? These people fleeing for their lives. For kindness and compassion to be denied Would take a Braverman than I Birthdays Birthdays Another day, another year. When was it that I cease to care? It doesn''t feel like an achievement. Not a thing to celebrate. There''s grey in my hair. On my shoulders weight.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Nothing quite prepared me for turning twenty-eight. The days are moving far too swift. The months they seem to blur. Sometimes I look back and wonder At what my dreams they were And I know I deserve some blame for it That I became a falling star I don''t celebrate my birthday What would I celebrate for. The Defunding The Defunding We''ve increased funding for the NHS The liar declares at his party''s behest And admittedly it''s even true And yet he''s still lyingThis novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Let me explain it to you... The name of the game is outsourcing But what on Earth does it mean? It means giving party donors Their own fat slice of green. To deprive agency by hiring agency Cleaning and catering bills start to grow The new consultants aren''t the medical kind They''ve simply got to go. I hope you''ve paid attention friend That you can now pass the test On how to increase a budget While getting even less. Its Always The Same It''s Always The Same Who really gives a crap about international law? Why give human rights to those we want to deplore? When life would be easier if they''d just stay oppressed.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. The poor. The weak. The dispossessed. And when they speak let there be gnashing of teeth. If they dare fight back drown them in our grief. It would be so much easier if they just weren''t there It''s not happening to you, so why should you care? Let the dust settle then let there be wringing of hands. But don''t intervene. Do you now understand? Genocide Genocide I am angry. So full of rage Afraid to lose my gilded cage One line circles in my headUnauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. My vision clouds, a fog of red. We''ve been here before We know where it leads What you''re arguing for We''ve been here before. How dare you do it in my name I fear to speak out And fear brings shame We''ve been here before. I won''t be copacetic Don''t you dare ask for apologetic Not when blood is on the floor We''ve been here before. We''ve been here before The old excuses don''t work anymore We''ve been here before WE''VE BEEN HERE BEFORE The Three Words The Three Words I was born in the age of lovesongs But now it''s time to write one The words seem far too hollowYou might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The platitudes so crude Was there ever three words so overused As simple ''I love you''. It''s a call to action. Romance''s grand refrain. The culmination of something so much greater That thoughts of loss and gain. And yet we try to capture it Butterfly meet the pin. A net of words, flawed, absurd. And still we try to grasp The subtleties of a human heart As if to make it ours. The Burning Future The Burning Future I spent my night daydreaming of the actions I am yet to take And yet now as the chance lies before me something stays my handStolen story; please report. Only to look back in agony at a dream unwrought ''Lo behold Humanity. Beset. Beleaguered. Bellicose. Afraid. Unable to push the blade from its throat. Unable to let go of the handle either. I was born soon enough to see our doom coming And yet too late to avert it. Hope makes no sound as it dies. Let Her In Let Her In It''s the days she most frustrates me That I know I''ve let her in My ramparts they were too shallow My walls they were too thin.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. I never knew how glorious My complete defeat could be When I admitted I love her And she that she loves me There was no great ceremony There was no grand applause When I chose to turn my coat When I changed my cause Still she drives me to distraction She''s driving me to gin It''s the days she most frustrates me That I know I''ve let her in. Charity Shops Charity Shops To pop into a charity shop Is to venture into the unknown How else to have an adventureThis book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Now the map lies filled in and overgrown A passing glance at others'' lives Of forgotten hobbies, of distant times. Rose-tinted better days, the games we used to play Of knick-knacks, oddities and yesterdays To give new purpose, to bring life anew What was once loved by me is now loved by you. The thought quite gladdens me, there''s life in it yet So pop into a charity shop, you''ll never regret it. Rebrand This Rebrand This I''m watching the world crumble down around me The social contract torn and tattered Our infrastructure fallen, fracturedUnauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Politicians corrupt beyond belief And in my grief, I dream of better days Was my childhood imagined or just rose spectacles at play But worry not the clots in charge will just rebrand failure as success They invented quiet quitting just to cover for wage theft When it comes to revolution, France did it the best The guillotine''s not murder, it''s just a nice long rest. Landlords Truth Landlord''s Truth Buy to let, let''s not forget Is nought but government sanctioned theftIf you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Oh, they''''ll dress it up in pretty terms A loan to let steal what others have earned For you''re an entrepreneur, wealth-maker, winner A truth unspoken, the secrets of the great sinner Only the poor work or their dinner And yet they work for yours too The time for change is long overdue. Empty Days Empty Days Another day spent staring at blue painted walls How can I feel so restless while achieving fuck allSupport the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. My tapping foot won''t even tap out a beat Twice today I was reminded to eat. A mind untethered, yet not thoughts unbound As they chase each other round and round Until they just become white noise A blank canvas, an empty void Where went all my aspirations? Wherefore art thou youth? My clock has wound down Hollow is my truth Love is a benefit Love is a benefit Love does not come naturally To a creature such as me It burns too brightly It burns too hot For one who wondersStolen novel; please report. On why not what? Its light serves to highlight My unending fears It adds not lightens To the weight of years The terrible knowledge It must always end in tears One way or another Mine or hers (Please be mine) Will we run out of love Or just out of time? Yet love is a benefit Of that I am sure May actions hold purpose That was not there before. The Next General Election The Next General Election Trust not to your lying eyes Say politicians who''s words belie A single terrible, gruesome fact They never cared, ''twas all an act. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. They''ve got the money now The gravy train has left the station Taking with it the callous cads Who''ve gone and wrecked our nation. They swear that they''ll do better Please just give them a seventh chance The other fella''s worse they say Now dance, monkey, dance. But soon enough we''ll get our chance To give these scum the boot To drag them ''fore the courts And strip them of their loot So saunter down on polling day Make sure to bring your ID And instead of voting for someone in it for themselves Vote for someone in it for you and me. Invest/Nationalize Invest/Nationalize Services have got to make a profit Says the Chancellor of the Exchequer Off his head or off his meds And who''s to say what''s better? This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. For you see services are there To help and grease the wheels Not to squeeze and squeeze Until our bloody pips squeal. Things like public transport Become an engine for nation''s wealth And it''s awful hard to work If you can''t afford your health So let us renationalize our water Invest in buses and trains Properly fund the NHS So it can ease our pains When it comes to economics It''s hard to go wrong with Keynes So lets go with someone sensible And try voting for the Greens Words Through The Fog/Deadline Despair Words Through The Fog / Deadline Despair Got to edit. Got to edit. Underlined red each time I read it. As I stare bleerily through viral haze. Tap. Tap. Tap Yet the typo stays. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Attempt number four finally gets the word write. Perhaps at last I can finally right. To marshall thoughts made of cotton wall The sneeze scatters characters, plot and all It''s mighty hard to write when you have a disease. The deadline doesn''t care. Time doesn''t listen to please. Pleas tell me if the ticking''s just inside my head. Am I writing sense or are my characters misled? By cough and sneeze and desperate wheeze Seeking just one moment of simple clarity Until at last I swallow the bitter pill It''s mighty hard writing when you''re ill. Fallen Down Fallen Down There was a time, not too long ago (so long ago) When I stood amidst the ashes of my failure A dream unwrought by misplaced trustA case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. By failing health and my own laziness Yet even ashes nourish soil. In defeat I turned to a new cause worthwhile To be a shepherd of broken things. The discarded, unwanted and forgotten. It''s no search for truth, not a grand crusade. Yet its worth remains the same My happiness is almost what it seems Reduce, reuse, recycle was never meant for dreams. Misery Misery Misery is sitting down alone at night and trying to remember how to cry. It''s when a friend says ''it''s them or me'' It''s not when having a very bad dayLove this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. It''s when a good day sours. And I''m tired of it. So sick and tired. So sick of being sick and tired Answer elude me; thoughts quagmired, Unable to meet the tasks required A shock of white within my hair Constant reminder of when I cared Only for my efforts be lambasted These stomach ulcers are each handcrafted. Through the weight of failure and the weight of years I found at last my stolen tears. Painted Eggshells / Painted Shards Painted Eggshells / Painted Shards A single slip and slow motion beckons As the shell plummets to the floorThis book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. A work of art, of paint and brush Shall not remain so anymore. The crack of impact. The crackle of shards. The flash of regret, of remorse. Guilt gnaws. My failures manifested. Shattered Though she says she''ll just pain more. Yet mistakes linger when the moment''s passed A thing is not beautiful because it lasts. Watercolour Memories Watercolour Memories I would share memories of my childhood With my dear lady love. Edited with humour, sans the fear and loss.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Things look so much better from a distance And what is time but a direction Scars fade, wounds heal. We don''t remember pain for a reason. And what pain there was, I have to say Was coloured in by joy A counterweight, so very great Back when I was but a boy. Perhaps it is cruel of me, to paint with half the colours Or is it just a form of love Not to give pain to another For she has not had an easy life Nor seen goals and dreams fulfilled So I strip shadows from the canvas When I share with her my world.