The Cloaked Schemer
New member
Nube Negra
We met on a Saturday night
On that dark, miserable, broken canvas of a street
I knew your name all too well
We might have even spoken once or twice before
The street was my domain, my home, and mine
There I was little more than a blind beggar
Trying to rationalize my situation
But at the same time, I knew how pathetic I was
When we met, you told me right away you were no prophet
You had not come to save me, you were no hero
And I was completely insignificant to you
In other words, you proved me right: I was nothingness
I don’t know what I expected from you
I was on the frigid, damp cement
The street light flickered on and off
And my own breath in the cold obscured your face
Others had passed me by while they wallowed
Some ignored my all together
Some offered their hands to help me up
But you did no such thing
You asked me if I could stand up on my own
I was too pathetic to even try
So I said nothing and slumped between two trash cans
And you merely scoffed
It’s not like I had had a horrible childhood
I never used to be in this place
There was a time where I’d never be caught in this…
Cliché gutter scene
You told me exactly what I was, and that I could change
My memory of the incident has since frosted over
But I think the exact wording was…
“You’re not supposed to be here, so leave.”
When I looked up, you were gone already
I slowly began to stand, only to slouch back down again
I don’t know which one of us is to blame
But your plan failed
Pantera
Release my form and prowl in the night.
File my teeth into fangs and
Sharpen my nails into claws,
So that I might rip the sky itself into shreds.
Tantalized by the sight of blood,
Be it your blood, my blood, their blood,
I know not what calls to me.
Am I still more man than beast?
Crouched down on all fours
And with a predator’s instinct, I
Pierce silence with a roar of hatred and
Leap and strike
Flesh against flesh, I will
Tear until no skin remains.
Bone against bone, I will
Grind until no marrow remains.
Resurrect
No one knows who or what I was.
The know only a beast
With a hole for a heart.
We met on a Saturday night
On that dark, miserable, broken canvas of a street
I knew your name all too well
We might have even spoken once or twice before
The street was my domain, my home, and mine
There I was little more than a blind beggar
Trying to rationalize my situation
But at the same time, I knew how pathetic I was
When we met, you told me right away you were no prophet
You had not come to save me, you were no hero
And I was completely insignificant to you
In other words, you proved me right: I was nothingness
I don’t know what I expected from you
I was on the frigid, damp cement
The street light flickered on and off
And my own breath in the cold obscured your face
Others had passed me by while they wallowed
Some ignored my all together
Some offered their hands to help me up
But you did no such thing
You asked me if I could stand up on my own
I was too pathetic to even try
So I said nothing and slumped between two trash cans
And you merely scoffed
It’s not like I had had a horrible childhood
I never used to be in this place
There was a time where I’d never be caught in this…
Cliché gutter scene
You told me exactly what I was, and that I could change
My memory of the incident has since frosted over
But I think the exact wording was…
“You’re not supposed to be here, so leave.”
When I looked up, you were gone already
I slowly began to stand, only to slouch back down again
I don’t know which one of us is to blame
But your plan failed
Pantera
Release my form and prowl in the night.
File my teeth into fangs and
Sharpen my nails into claws,
So that I might rip the sky itself into shreds.
Tantalized by the sight of blood,
Be it your blood, my blood, their blood,
I know not what calls to me.
Am I still more man than beast?
Crouched down on all fours
And with a predator’s instinct, I
Pierce silence with a roar of hatred and
Leap and strike
Flesh against flesh, I will
Tear until no skin remains.
Bone against bone, I will
Grind until no marrow remains.
Resurrect
No one knows who or what I was.
The know only a beast
With a hole for a heart.