

The Cowardly and the BraveA coward dies a thousand deaths A brave man once, they say, Yet it is the coward they remember most, While the bravest fade away.The Cowardly and the Brave
The cowards run while brave men stay. The brave do fight, cowards run away. But the brave are lost; only cowards Survive and win the day.
A coward will flee from comrades in need, But will live on in memories all. But no one remembers the courageous dead, The ones who fought, the ones who fall.


The ViolinWhile I sit and write this poem, My eyes overflow with tears of pain As I think of that lovely violin That shall not ever play again.The Violin
Alone atop a shelf it lies; For many a year it has lain there. Dust covers and dulls its once bright surface, Yet nobody seems to notice or care.
The music that once leaped from its strings, Drawn from the moving of the bow, Is now but a distant memory Of the happy days of long ago.
Does anyone care for that violin, Or what its fate will be? It seems only one has a longing for it. Only one person… Me.


Title Suggestions, Anyone?Shadows carried on the wind And fire from a devil’s eye Float upon eternity, Upon the endless sky.Title Suggestions, Anyone?
Hatred and sorrowful dreams Are carried on the wings of night, And drown the radiance of the stars That sparkles with a blinding light.
Bitterness and vengeance are The blood of conflicts, every and all. Each day another rises up And answers their fell call.
Within the deepest darkness, That light cannot dispel, The evils of the world cry out And sound that wicked knell.
The Ravens of Darkness, on wicked wings, Carry
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Save Ferris.
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Sigh... So many submarines, so little time.
Captain Tupolev, I await your command!