Biography of Vasto Grom
I am just a young man trying to make it in the world. It's been tough most of the time and it has taken its toll but I'm still trying. Over the years I've found myself not to be the most normal of people. I find that I am much more cold than most and even a little disturbed in the eyes of some. Honestly though, while I am a might twisted I am still a better person than most I know.
Vasto Grom Poems
When A Hero Comes
When a hero comes There'll be no more fear When our hero comes No longer will we shed tears
To The Fallen
Upon this beautiful web of lies I sleep and rest my head Unbeknownst to all the other The me they knew is dead
Just End It
I hate this place I hate this whole race One person is all it took
Just like the sun rises and sets each day. So will my hatred continually eat away. Until everything is gone. And all that is left are the pictures I've drawn.
Such A Little Thing
Such a trivial thing So small and insignificant And yet it means more to me than I believed More than I ever intended it to mean
Piercing Emerald Eyes
Still Love Her
My heart was pierced by cupid. I disdained all glistening gold. There was nothing that could console me. But my goddess I longed to hold.
Blood Across The Walls
I remember those dreaded halls All that blood splattered on the walls The people had all gone mad While they were murdering each other they almost seemed glad
Coin Of Fate
In my hand is my coin of fate It tells me at who I am to project my hate With just a flip of the coin we shall see
What if I had never told you? What if I had lied? Would you still be my friend? Would you have never cried?
For My Sins
((Warning: This poem is twisted and disturbing)) I will bath in the blood and the madness of my sins I will feast on the pain and misery of my insanity I shall sleep in a bed made from the broken shards of my hopes and dreams
The Keeper Of Suffering And Sorrow
One who always listens to my misery One that will always be there when I break To help build me back up For no reason more than for my own sake
I was once asked what I thought of perfection, I replied 'I despise perfection for a truly simple reason. Mankind has always strove to better itself, to be greater than the last generation. But if perfection were to ever be achieved than that would be the end, no more room for improvement or imagination. To be perfect means to have nothing left to