Weekly Art: Vi-Rex

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You should know you could do anything,

Even build an epic time machine,

That brings you back to the age of dinosaurs,

So you can find what you’re looking for.

 

It’s your program you are the world

You can change the book, change all the words.

But if you miss one little bend,

You should know the trouble, know what you can send.

 

Back in prehistoric times, everybody wants

When the screen goes blank and white,

Really, that’s no fun.

 

When the signs are flashing in bright red text,

The virus does what it does best.

Back in prehistoric times, everybody wants

To see the Vi- Rex.

Weekly Art: Cross Bone

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Lying in the midst of all the Dust to blow,

Sand is coming, so with History I’ll go.

There’s bound to be a way to keep this,

This Life in my hands.

There’s bound to be a way to keep this,

On my Cross Bone.

 

Should’ve listened to my Elders before I flew here,

A Place that I’d been told would hold the worst of my Fears.

There’s bound to be a way to keep this,

This Life I know.

There’s bound to be a way to keep this,

On my Cross Bone.

 

When I bow down to a Greater Force than me,

I’ll know that I am stronger when set Free.

And now, I’ll rust away the World’s bones.

When there is only one heart on the Cross Bone.

 

Weekly Art: Angel

angel

(art is mine)

The angel was born

Beautiful, treasured, gifted

The light among

Many loved her at first

Sight was blinded by

Beauty awakened by

Darkness in her

Heart was like sinister

Serpent slithering through

Lush meadow and the sun’s

Light supposed to protect us from

The darkness was

Hidden under pure, white

Wings take flight to the morning

Sky full of red

Ravens’ wings dipped in

Blood of the angel pure.

Blood of the devil pure.

Weekly Art: Scar of the Dragon

dragon

(art is mine)

He watches

the Kingdom before him.

It is Grand

a Masterpiece.

Towers so high, reaching for the Sky

and Beyond, of course.

The Home of the Dragons

where he belongs.

Of all Sizes and Shapes,

they dart in and out of grand Spires.

Colors of the Thing that forms in the Mist after the Rain

and Colors he cannot describe.

They are beautiful colors.

Light dawns on the City

from the Sun as it rises from behind the Mountains,

taking its daily course

across the Land.

But then, he opens his eyes

and all he thought has vanished.

There are no more Dragons.

He is the only one left.

And all he sees is the Dark.

There is no Sun, no Light,

for he cannot See.