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Literature Text
With our heads held high
-eyes overflowing with pride-
we'll follow the phantom,
yes, we'll carry on
until The End.
We march to death's tone
-our minds are twisted and bent-
but although we might be dying,
at least we're not yet
Dead!
Our hearts are bleeding
-it will never be enough-
but at least we've got passion
singing in our very
Blood.
We are not afraid to keep on living,
we are not afraid to walk this world alone
for every single one of us wields
The Sharpest Lives
of this generation.
We are the Teenagers
who won't be Disenchanted
-let the fire just bathe us-
we will not Sleep, no,
we live in the House Of Wolves.
Now, to unexplain the unforgivable,
become a slave to society?
-This just ain't living-
Forget it!
-I'll be off to find another way-
The time has come-
put on your black jacket, young soldier,
let our anthem fill your emptiness
and
Welcome To The Black Parade.
(To My Chemical Romance, The Black Parade)
-eyes overflowing with pride-
we'll follow the phantom,
yes, we'll carry on
until The End.
We march to death's tone
-our minds are twisted and bent-
but although we might be dying,
at least we're not yet
Dead!
Our hearts are bleeding
-it will never be enough-
but at least we've got passion
singing in our very
Blood.
We are not afraid to keep on living,
we are not afraid to walk this world alone
for every single one of us wields
The Sharpest Lives
of this generation.
We are the Teenagers
who won't be Disenchanted
-let the fire just bathe us-
we will not Sleep, no,
we live in the House Of Wolves.
Now, to unexplain the unforgivable,
become a slave to society?
-This just ain't living-
Forget it!
-I'll be off to find another way-
The time has come-
put on your black jacket, young soldier,
let our anthem fill your emptiness
and
Welcome To The Black Parade.
(To My Chemical Romance, The Black Parade)
Literature
#
I fell in love through a thin sheet of glass
Scraping my skin on the shards as it shattered.
And I fell asleep reaching for your hands
Dreaming of unwritten notes and dial tones.
I thought it would taste like pink lemonade,
But the way I say your name is metallic.
I thought you would be a way to escape,
But my wires got crossed and I became lost.
You're just chasing residual noise
And I'm losing my digital voice.
Literature
III.
her name was Atlantis; her doctor
said she drowned herself
in an ocean of sadness
by downing the bottle
of salt-water on
the bedside table.
(i think she was only lost, Sir,
i think she was just trying to
find her way back home.)
Literature
-
i fade with
stilted shots, the audience
waits for me. choking. oh god
how could this happen
with my throat
twisted up
and my head bound tight
in ropes i'm not sure i want to
untie? snap my brittle
wrists. i'm losing again,
numbers scaling down to a
place i should not be.
a parasite is swallowing
my energy. tests are negative.
i breathe.
--
just as i drift
into
pale, fading sleep,
his fingernails
claw through
the
material of
my skull.
i don't know who he is but i remember
the wooden floor beneath me
the length of my hair
catching under my back
as i struggle
and
how it felt when he
left me on the floor,
limp
tear stre
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This is a poem I wrote as a sort of tribute to my favourite band and their third album, The Black Parade. There is a reference for each song on the album in this poem.
*Killjoys Never Die!*
*Killjoys Never Die!*
© 2015 - 2024 Glasses-And-Blades
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