Other half: the dictator

Let the instigation begin

Upon checking your vitals
i realized -- this body needs a dictator
this pumping vessel sends compassion
flooding and overloading this system
hence making this citadel walls feeble
that a provoking word can reduce it to its downfall

how can i get this to stop?
we'll be beaten with this beating

better be a slave of the tyrant
and be the marionette
rather than to be the weak

So the ruler with the iron fist pleaded
all of you
hand me your strings, will you?

(a reply to "this armistice" by treos)

Other half: panacea

Let the instigation begin.

Though I am the captain within these walls,
You were the one who inculculated all that I ever knew.
I tried to surpass this feat;
And break away each time.

My instincts never failed.
It inveighed me to cut the tradition.
You hear what the screaming is all about.
You feel the rage pumping out;
Sending an unfamiliar route,
To search for the missing piece.

You tell what to do, but I act on it.
Control. When all the right things have left us ill-fated.
I suppose you get stranded in your own bitter realm;
And you get tired, but I keep on waiting.

They say, mind over matter;
I say, the heart is all that matters.

A panacea, for the untouchables.

BY PATTY CABRERA
a reply to "this armistice" by the receiving end of sirens

Hymns inside a trial court

In time of crisis
every fingers will stretch even for a mile
to wrap around people who's under us
abuse your power to brand
to channel all faults at hand
the innocent seems to be the filthy
the hunted hides quietly
in the shadows of the overshadowed words
around the round table
there are no eye contacts made
leaving visions unparalleled to each other
as the conductor strikes his cue
everybody sings in no unison:
"my hands are free from blood"

Dialogue

At first, i thought i'm addicted to the coffee
every inch in my body shouts for caffeine
it seemed unquenchable
until i realized it's the talk with my friends that's pulling me here
every cell of my body is crying for another dialogue
but still yeah
coffee's great!

Wipe your mouth to cover up

We shake in fear of the unknown
what's inside of that throat of yours
they bow to our critics and push the button
our foul shadows gush out
and sucked into the hearing sink
it makes them taller and eager
they spit it like it's their own
they puke it yet their's stinks more
The blurry sight for wanting a greater height
what makes us dizzy
treat it then
to circumvent this feeling
in secrecy shoot them down