Funk Town

Welcome to Mr. Bones Wild Ride. Where the meme never stop, the writing just keep coming in, and I'm always groovin' it to Funk!

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Rohingya

A burning besieged brackish village is sprawled before me

I’ve become trapped in this horrific horrendous reality

Tattered graves crumbling

My temple burning

We’re being erased

People without identities indiscriminately dropping

My village of Gamora gone, removed like the rest

Isolated,  godforsaken, my people an island unto ourselves with a heinous hateful hurricane in toe

There's no one left to take our tired, our poor, our huddled masses

I pray to Muhammad but I’m alone, with death's grip tightening my time here is coming to a close

But before I depart to join my brethren let it be known

This perilous plateau was once what people called home

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War

You harass my mind

You’re a phantom in my head

I try to pacify but you'll just go full steam ahead

Doubt, Despair, and Dread are your friends they all haunt my head

But I have friends too and they'll fight with me to the end

All of us are a part of this Great War the unfortunate battlefield is my head

You’re the Axis, I’m the Allies

But this isn't a movie the good guys might not win and you may have your way

You’re a coward, you’re a bitch

This is a war of attrition that I fully intend to win

You cannot and will not be my end

Like the soldiers of wars long past I’ll fight in the hills above, the streets below, and the sewers too because you’ve shown if anything you'll stoop that low  

I shall never surrender, so listen up you fucking bitch

I’ll do whatever I can to stop your advance; I’ll flood your trenches, kill your men, and raze your cities, if that's what it takes to assure your end

You’re a worthy willful well-trained adversary I’ll give you that

But I too have allies and friends beautiful angels that will lead the valiant voracious vanguard of my men and put your tyrannical rule to a triumphant end.

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The Rot

Down beneath the wicker tree long below the whirling winds and buzzing bees

A corrupt rot yells and screams practically dying to be free

It lies in wait precariously planning its attempt to escape and do untold harm to all that’s perceived

Its grandiose scheme so complex and seemingly complete that just as Alexander, it is convinced the entire world will fall at its feet

But down beneath the wicker tree all denizens face a warping of reality

The rot is not as smart as it seems its inadequate thoughts will be crushed beneath the wicker tree

Down beneath the wicker tree where little light bleeds and endless mounds of fallen leaves seem to be the rot will wait festering, hoping to overtake all that is seen

But the stark strong foreboding tree will always protect the whirling winds and buzzing bees

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Our Dance

Broken, Short, and to the point, the dance we used to do has become something disgustingly new

The routine we do once so formal and polite has been corrupted and eroded, in no part thanks to the boundaries between us

I’ve been hurt, you’ve been too, We’ve both had to suffer at the hands of one another

I had hope for the future but looking back my young naivety was exactly that

The rhythm is broken, the steps we now take a callious copy of the past

My World has fallen into a long lonely December

But December will end, our dance too

I cannot lie I will always cherish the memories I created with you

But this is goodbye

Au Revoir I’ll never forget you

[karnalesbian]

ra ra rasputin russia’s smollest uwu bean

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