(
This is a draft for the Age of Aftermath magazine project.)
We Stand Hand in Hand in Aftermath
The present's almost over
and it flows away from me
Reflecting back a memory
it drifts into the sea
They say we see sepulcher
in this bureaucratic tangle
but the field of poppy culture
is just one camera angle
We bathe in time, an acid bath
and We dissolve, perplexed
So begins the age of Aftermath
exhaling what comes next
We're hand in hand in Aftermath
the age of what will be
Horizon smoke is rising
from the wreckage that is We
Remembering, forgetting
this cultural bazaar
Bureaucracy is setting,
so arise the morning star
And in the smoke what shapes will form?
What phantoms will we make?
For we are made of form and formula
but also dross mistake
cool!
Quote from: Professor Cramulus on April 23, 2007, 10:11:41 PM
And in the smoke what shapes will form?
What phantoms will we make?
For we are made of form and formula
but also dross mistake
:mittens:
Quote from: Payne on April 23, 2007, 10:13:35 PM
cool!Quote from: Professor Cramulus on April 23, 2007, 10:11:41 PM
And in the smoke what shapes will form?
What phantoms will we make?
For we are made of form and formula
but also dross mistake
:mittens:
2nded. Extra points for the last line.
Not just a pretty face with a fake moustache after all :wink: