Dagel

[Sn00p]

Dagel


Also known as Dagel, Belligerent, Soule', Killer Aries and many others.
Active from 2003 to the present time.
Posted on RB, RIA, NC, RR, RA and AOB.

[Killer Aries]

Our love was anything from perfect- everything was certain,
every touch was burying the curtains, I was marrying a serpent.
Felt like lust was carrying her words with a canary for wordsmith,
escalated above a weary curse when she's staring without purpose.
Our getaway honeymoon ended up in a phase where money blew,
out a window frame into a mucky pool, pent up rage jumping through the roof.
My headaches started to fuckin bloom, alcoholic ways budging me to move,
everyday darkened like King Tut's tomb, an illogic case judging by the truth.
The first night we didn't say a thing, the worst time since I started to breath,
words might have given some peace, but her eyes were sharpened like teeth.
A hurst-like intention and leash, it burst right as I regarded the feast,
I'm sure life isn't about agony, so I'm hurt by the darkness of her seas.
My passion for disaster is a fault, the satisfaction I've mastered is all,
in a classic chapter, I will fall- without a draft in my stature or song.

My love for the sea has died
- but in the Northwest, I'll forever thrive.

Gliding from tree to tree, I've been striving to become free,
flying through serenity's breeze, I live to die in a kingdom of green.
Diving into a peaceful spring where life is everything I need,
despite the leeches that feed, we're all parasites to this amazing thing.
The bears hunt for fish, but I wear their cubs... their kin...
aware of their grudge for men, I prepare to crush their ribs.
Do I dare destruct the crib, in which fairs my love and itch?
Or do I share some of it with the scared population of my forest?
Nature has been my mother, greater than the parent I muster,
catered to my reasoning clusters, slayer of the merit I suffered.
Savior of my demons and punctures, favored & cherished lover,
nature gives the seasons a whisper that no stranger can ever mutter.
But I've grown ill in the years, my bones have chilled and it appears
my throne fills with the fear that home will be killed by solid gears.

My love for the forest has died
- but in the Northwest, I'll forever thrive.

Unsure of the path I'll take, the world seems to crash in wake,
burned by wrath and change, stirred by the clash of 'upgrade'.
Nature gasps in pain... as she's hurt by the metallic plates...
a worm latched as bait... she squirms while in tragic array...
No drastic dismay could save what I'd grown to love in life,
so in a plastic grave, I sail away in order for my soul to thrive.

"Home is where the heart is."