Compilation of Verses Written

The Beginning of the End

This is the story of how they met, Her picture was on the back of a pack of cigarettes. When she touched him he turned ruby red. A story that they'll never forget, Never forget. Because We are the beginning of the end. Ameri-conomy, exotica, do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby? Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds. And we will teach you how to make boys next door out of assholes.

Baby, is it bad that I wanna see your animal side. I wanna see the girl under your skin and reveal your broken promises. We are alive, here in death valley. Tonight is just fire losing, fire losing you. We are the light. I wanna see your animal side, let it all out. Girl, dress to impress. You can wear the crown but you ain't no princess. We are alive here in Death Valley. Only lose a beat to the game of life. We're gonna die in a matter of time. Here to the bitter end or gone in an instant. So baby, I'll get you high. We are alive here in Death Valley but we don't take love on the table yet. We are the Hollywood, only losing a beat to the leave of the light.

Do you remember me?

No of course not, I'm that friend of a friend. A friend of a friend, who's cousin is dead. Oh hold it there I must protest! Wrong relation, the other cousin, such a mistake - how truly grotesque! The other cousin's friend's sister, who's brother is married to that one woman with a cat. Yes, that's me. That one man who's face has been on the newspaper with that one book in his hand. Fame overnight they called it? How?

How surprising was my response.

Truly indeed. Now I do have a favour, one as sinister as can be. I know this is rather fast, and our acquaintanceship has yet to last. I have no friends. And this if this is a trend than I have failed to comprehend it as such. It's truly lonely you see, that I've almost met my end. Such a painful, and pitiful end. So will you be my friend? I'll be happy to share some tea, for you. I can't say that I'm much of a talker, though I'll add I have ideas preplanned, such as watching the skies grow darker.

I have a fair bit of a problem. I'm attempting to investigate things that begin with the letter M. It's quite troublesome - there are too many words in the English language. How can I be a proper novelist, without knowing all of them? No no, please put away the dictionary. I mustn't cheat. I shan't good fellow.

Miss, do you remember my brother?

The manner in which the composer's suicide was executed was not of utmost significance. Even the fact that Ludwig ended his life roughly four to five months prior to the originally set date was of little importance. Being a pragmatist of a meticulous and fastidious manner, he had the plan down to each and every minute detail. The catalyst in which he jumped the gun early could be overlooked as well. All that mattered was that the young man had chosen by his own will to die. Oh, what a poor, foolish soul to believe that his existence would end once his lungs ceased to breathe. This was only the beginning of a journey that could no know end. Ludwig may have never believed in God and Heaven, but that was of no loss on the boy's part. It was not as if he would ever encounter that holy countenance, nor draw close to the sacred gates (in theory that such an entity and place existed). You didn't need to believe in God to believe in the Devil. If they didn't have room for your miserable, pathetic little soul in Heaven, do not fret, my dear Sinner. There was always room to spare in Hell.

It was common misconception to think of Hell of a cavern of nine rings (tribute to Dante) with towers of fire everywhere. Were there knavish creatures baring sharp teeth and wielding curious instruments of torture? Yes, no, maybe so? There were monstrous oddities every corner you turned - living dolls with painted face cracking at the edges, clowns who frowned rather than smiled, and many other strange beings bearing peculiar attire and even more peculiar faces. But these Hellish ghouls were merely living personifications of the masses of wicked souls that had gathered together over time. The greatest monster of all was a Sinner. Take a look in the mirror, and you would see the very definition of one. Ludwig van Amsel was of no exception.