In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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Hello. When I'm walking I like to sing and this is a song that popped into my head. For some reason, rhyme scheme is very important to me. ;D (Just so things stay organized, maybe if anyone else has any songs they can post them here. This thread is not for critiquing me, I just felt like sharing.)
Let the beggars have their quarters and the winos have their wine Let kiddies have their sweets and the neighbors have their blinds.
Now the perverts and the prudes have a problem with the nudes One wants more and one wants less which wants what, you can guess
And a tangled web of intrigue the gossips love to weave with their lies and their meetings and their scarlet letter screams
And the neighbors love to shake in their hands a handy rake What has the world become? they shriek where are priests and where are nuns?
And the nuns and the priests they answer from the streets where they dance with all of us as we put up such a fuss!
We dance and shriek and scream and howl and set to barking every dog in town and the groaning and the moaning can go on all night but what do we care we're just as strong. We're really quite bright. The shadows and the protests can never halt our screams, our cries.
But when everyone is happy then some of use are sad. And if some of use are sad then how can we be glad.
So we return to life as normal with our daily jobs and lives and we leave the doing what we want for our dreams and when we cry.
This has some very interesting changes in tone when sung.
I list my influences as Alice in wonderland and broadway musicals. And no, this is not supposed to be beautiful. This is what it is.
Aw, to heck with it. If anyone wants to comment, they are free to do so. Half of it I created when I realized that this felt unfinished starting with, And the neighbors love to shake.
I suppose if a person wants to put up a song and they actually want a critique it would be better for them to have their own thread. I just like having a thread with lots of related things in it so that I can find them in the future.
I really, really like this! If its a song, though, do you think you'd ever make a chorus? Any one of those verses, if you repeat them, could work as one.
Now, onto something completely different. Apparently, I can still feel anger, at people, the way the world works. Fill in the blank, really.
Dead threads, dead threads Spinning in my head Screaming, crying Rattling chains
Why are they dead who is to blame
The half-formed stories, the half led lives, the fights the romance, the half-assed rhymes.
The call out in whispered voices The typed word has very few choices.
When worse comes to worse and push comes to shove their owners have left them, abandoned their blood.
The ink is of memories of futures undone. How can it live, a tale that's half spun.
Once again I state this. I do things like this for the rhythm and the meaning, not for beauty or depth. I do not require any response and I do not intend any insult.