Showing posts with label Other. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Other. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Shakespeare's Women - Breaking the Mold

While it would not be accurate to say that Shakespeare attempts to embody all of the characteristics of the ideal Renaissance woman in all of his female characters, it is certainly accurate to say that he introduces us to female characters who go against the grain of the Elizabethan notion of what a woman should be. Shakespeare discards the notion of the subservient female and introduces us to women of intelligence, wit, power, and character. One writer of the Elizabethan era compared a woman with an education to a madman with a sword: "...you just couldn't tell what she'd do with it!" Shakespeare not only provides some of his female characters with a sword, but shows that they can wield it quite effectively. This article will focus on four of Shakespeare's women: Lady Macbeth, Cressida, Rosalind, and Cleopatra. In doing so, we will explore how Shakespeare "breaks the mold" of the common Elizabethan perception of the female.


Before we examine the characters, it is important to provide a brief summary of these commonly held perceptions. A woman in sixteenth century England had no vote, few legal rights, and an extremely limited chance of an education, much less a job. Freedom enjoyed by an Elizabethan woman was granted, and taken away, by her husband. He was the prince with power, and his wife was the loyal, loving subject. Both church and state supported this premise of wifely inferiority and it got a further endorsement from the law. When a woman married, she traditionally lost control over her property. Any legal loopholes that might have left some doubt as to women's inferior status were amply filled in by the teachings of biology and the theory of the four humors, which stated that women's bodies had a greater proportion of the cold and moist humors. This meant that women were passive, timid, and hesitating-fit to be dominated by men. When the Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe died in 1601, his funeral eulogist praised him for "keeping his sons to their studies and his daughters to spinning and sewing". As we will see in the four women we are about to examine, they hardly fit into this mold.

We shall begin with Lady Macbeth who can be described as a formidable version of a woman who dominates her weak-willed husband. However, it would be wrong to see her as a monster. On the contrary, she is perhaps more than usually feminine. She is conscious of her woman's breasts, her mother's milk; knows "How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me"; and, when she thinks to carry out the murder herself, fails because Duncan reminds her of her father. Macbeth calls her his dearest "chuck", and she speaks, when sleepwalking, of her "little hand". In more modern terms, she might be described as an "iron butterfly"-delicate yet strong.

It is apparent from the moment we meet Lady Macbeth reading her husband's letter that she is not going to conform to the role of a subservient female. When she cries out to the spirits to "unsex" her, and when she brags that if she had vowed to do a murder she would follow through, we see that she does not conform to the ideal of the nurturing woman. Even if it were her own baby she "...would, while it was smiling in my face, / Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums, / And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you / Have done to this".

The resourcefulness and self-control of Lady Macbeth throughout the play is extraordinary, and hardly resembles the character of a dainty woman. It is only in private that she shows her weariness, and only after her mental collapse that she relents control. This does not, however, negate the power and fortitude that she has shown to this point.

Cressida is a completely different personality from Lady Macbeth, but no less strays from the accepted Elizabethan ideal. In Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde, the female character is less crafty, less self-possessed, less sensual, and less intelligent than Shakespeare's Cressida. Here again, Shakespeare takes a hammer to the mold. Cressida's soliloquy at the end of Act 1.2 reveals her as a sophisticated young lady who is expert at manipulating the emotions of men. We later find her wit to be far superior to that of Pandarus as they banter while watching the return of the Trojan soldiers.

Cressida's skill at the love game is derived from the knowledge that with her surrender will come a loss of power. However, Cressida retains her power through her unfaithfulness to Troilus and her subsequent games with Diomedes. Muir implies that Cressida's uninhibited behavior on her arrival in the Greek camp may perhaps be ascribed to a reaction from the strain of being put on a pedestal, but whatever the reason, we see a woman who is in control of herself and, more often than not, in control of those around her. If there were ever a character that wandered from the Elizabethan ideal of a subservient, uneducated, yielding woman, it is Cressida.

Perhaps the two women of these four who most dramatically usurp the power of a male-dominated society are Rosalind and Cleopatra. I believe that one of the reasons for this is that significant parallels can be drawn between these two characters and the most powerful "real" woman of her time-Queen Elizabeth. Before we explore these parallels, we should first take a brief look at the background of this powerful English monarch.

While most Elizabethan women were spinning and sewing, Queen Elizabeth was proving that a woman was more than capable of mustering a kingdom-and showing herself to be an almighty exception to the rules that governed women's lives. Elizabeth realized early on that marriage meant a loss of power, so she never married. Once the scepter was in her hand, she was determined not to relinquish it. The Pope later expressed surprise at Elizabeth's formidable authority: "She is only a woman... and yet she makes herself feared by Spain, by France... by all".

The most obvious parallel between Elizabeth and Rosalind is in donning the mask of masculinity. Much of the lavish praise that gushed over the queen in her lifetime exalted her "masculine" virtues of courage and intellect. Much like Rosalind, Elizabeth almost had to become a man at times in order to get anything done. Rosalind certainly understands how the game is played-"...in my heart / Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will / We'll have a swashing and a martial outside". Elizabeth knew as well as Rosalind that she had to maintain that swashing and martial outside. To call attention to womanliness in the wrong way would have been political suicide.

The obvious parallel between Elizabeth and Cleopatra is that they both had the disadvantages of being a woman ruler in a male-dominated court. Elizabeth gained control of the court by capitalizing on the fact that she was a woman-initially a young and attractive one. She, like Cleopatra, had to play a double role, alternating between the earthly woman and the divine majesty. If this is an accurate depiction of the young Elizabeth, then she shared Cleopatra's practical understanding in winning the court over with her "feminine wiles" and flirtatiousness, but both women rose far above the ordinary definitions of the feminine.

In the scene where Cleopatra questions the messenger about Octavia's physical appearance, Shakespeare may have been trying to show an example of her pettiness. According to Irene G. Dash, recent scholarship has revealed that this behavior runs parallel with that of Queen Elizabeth. If Shakespeare's audience knew of these incidents, this scene would have served to strengthen the impression that he was describing a real queen-a woman of power. Dash also points out that the people of Shakespeare's time wrestled with the problem of Elizabeth's refusal to marry. Surely, Shakespeare must have incorporated this experience into his portrait of Cleopatra. Queen Elizabeth ruled far beyond her "salad days" and never completely relinquished control of power. Through analogy, Shakespeare would have been reinforcing the image of a known woman monarch.

Now that these parallels have been drawn, we will explore the characters of Rosalind and Cleopatra in more depth. As You Like It is Rosalind's play as Hamlet is Hamlet's. As Harold Bloom denotes, Rosalind is Hamlet's equal in wit, intellect, and vision of herself . As the heroine in the comedy, Rosalind exemplifies the best of virtues to be found in a Renaissance English woman. She is intelligent, warm, witty, and strong of character. Touchstone and Jaques are poor wits compared to her, and her androgynous allure can appear so attractive, her virtuosity of wit so engaging, that all our attention becomes focused on her as if nothing else matters. Her ability to talk circles around Orlando seems sufficient proof of her complete triumph. The sense of Orlando being mastered creates a one-sided relationship in which the woman has control.

However, it would be a mistake to bestow the "scepter of Arden" on Rosalind just yet. Shakespeare does not completely ignore the sexual politics of his time. As Bloom points out, in order to love, Rosalind must reveal herself to Orlando, but in giving up the disguise, she also gives up the power it symbolizes. The liberation that Rosalind experiences in the forest has built into it the conservative countermovement by which, as the play returns to the normal world, she will be reduced to the traditional woman who is subservient to men. This presents a paradox of sorts because Rosalind is the architect of the play's resolution, but the resolution phases out the power she has wielded. But does it really? Her submission is explicit but not ironic when she declares: "To you I give myself, for I am yours". Bloom proposes that the casting of herself in the role of male possession is all the more charming because she does not have to be forced to adopt it; her self-taming is voluntary.

In the forest of Arden, both men and women are permitted an expansion of sexual identity that transcends restrictive gender rules. Just as Rosalind gains access to the traditional masculine attributes of strength and control, Orlando gains access to the traditional female attributes of compassion and nurturing. It is important to note, however, that Rosalind's possession of the costume and the power that goes with it is only temporary, whereas Orlando does not have to give up the emotional enlightenment that he has experienced in the forest. This causes Bloom to raise the question: What is Shakespeare's relation to the sexual politics in As You Like It? Is he taking an ironic and critical stance toward the patriarchal solution of his characters, or is he heavily invested in the solution himself?. I tend to lean toward the former because Shakespeare's women in Love's Labor's Lost do not give up their independence in the end. Perhaps the two elements of female power kept managable, and male power kept loving provided a solution that was, at the time, "As Shakespeare Liked It".

Cleopatra, to me, is the most complex character of the four women discussed in this essay, due in part to the dramatic range of emotions that she displays. Cleopatra is voluptuous, ostentatious, conscious, boastful, intelligent, haughty, tyrannical, fickle, tender, and loving. All of these traits combine to form an extremely complex woman and her complexity is further exemplified when Octavia is introduced as a dull foil to her. Shakespeare presents the prototypical acceptable woman in Octavia, and the independent woman of self-sovereignty in Cleopatra. Shakespeare suggests that a woman of power has the unusual opportunity of combining her sexual and political selves. Cleopatra commands others and is sovereign over herself.

The image of Cleopatra riding the great beats of Antony's heart, "...in the scuffles of great fights hath burst, / The buckles on his breast", sets forth an image of Cleopatra as conqueror and he her captive. This, however, oversimplifies the situation. As Bloom shows us, Cleopatra is a study in contrasts. She loves Antony, yet sends him word that she has killed herself. She can be teased by her serving women, but threatens her messenger with a knife. She grandly speaks of having Herod's head, trades bawdy jests with her eunuch, dreams of lovers who were kings, taunts Antony, flatters Caesar's servant, outwits Caesar, and quarrels with Enobarbus. She is what she is because of her complete lack of resemblance to a typical, acceptable woman.

Nevertheless, since she lives in a patriarchal society, like Rosalind, she may still be limited by stereotypes for female behavior and subject to the rules established by the dominant group. In fact, Shakespeare creates male characters who express the views of society. They challenge her right to self-sovereignty. She is a "strumpet" and a "gypsy" to them. Enobarbus frequently denigrates Cleopatra as a person of power. Enobarbus offers his perceptions of Cleopatra when he is joking with the group surrounding the soothsayer; he suddenly warns, "Hush, here comes Antony". Bloom submits that Enobarbus' reference to Cleopatra as "Antony" reflects his own critical attitude toward this woman whose strength and self-confidence continually assaults and confuses him. It is exactly these traits, though, that make Cleopatra who she is-a sexual being and a person of power. She sees no need to "unsex" herself to prove her role, and she ultimately uses the male perception of a woman to outwit Caesar who plans to take her back to Rome as a hostage. Intent on dying, she knows that she must persuade Caesar of her desire to live if he is to be careless about guarding her, and she achieves her goal with cunning and genius.

The character of Cleopatra suggests the potential for women if they could have self-sovereignty and function as complete people, not in a sexless world where, like Queen Elizabeth, they must choose between marriage and career, but in a world where true mutuality might exist between men and women. Shakespeare forces us to observe Cleopatra as the one character who spans the entire drama. Capable, politically astute, and imaginative, it would be laughable to see her as a character who should lose her identity in a hierarchical society because she is a woman.

In conclusion, it would be fair to say that while Shakespeare does, in fact, break the mold of the commonly held perception of an Elizabethan woman, he does not allow his characters to completely avoid the bias of a male-dominated society. I believe that this only serves to lend more authenticity to the characters. Perhaps, as Bloom suggests, Shakespeare speculated with an ideal, wondering what might result if the concept of marriage and gender were not hierarchical, but more equal. What if the kind of relationship he envisioned meant mutual respect between two equals, like Antony and Cleopatra, who also loved one another? Would we not then have a richer society because one half of it were no longer limiting the role of the other half? If this is the ideal that Shakespeare had in the back of his mind, then it is indeed, "As We Like It".

Rick Huffman is a National long-haul driver who spent 20 years in the broadcasting industry before becoming a trucker. He describes the career change as, "...the best decision I ever made on one day, and the worst one I ever made on the next."

rickhu45@yahoo.com

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Tuesday, July 22, 2008

HOW TO BECOME AN IDEAL FRIEND

Its not easy becoming a friend or making one because a friend is not a state of mind. Its real and its in your face. A friend is someone who makes your life worth its while a little more than yesterday. While everybody has their own definitions of a "friend", the long and short of it is we all need friends to make our lives better. We at TheHolidaySpot value our friendship as much as you do and would like to share our ideas of how to become an ideal friend with you, for if wasn't for you we wouldn't be where we are today.


HONESTY IS THE BEST POLICY...

In friendship "honesty" is the key word. One should always be honest to his or her friends.
Don't overlook their faults, even if you have none for you are his friend!
Praise them honestly and openly.
Say you're sorry, when you hurt your friend. Don't let them assume it.*


GIVE MORE THAN YOU TAKE...

Be there when they need you or you may wind up alone.
Love them unconditionally, that is the only condition. Make them feel special, because aren't we all special?*
Never forget them, who wants to feel forgotten.*


BE SUPPORTIVE...*

Cheer them on, we all need encouragement now and then.*
Encourage their dreams and aspiration, Life seems almost meaningless without them.
Your words count, use them wisely.
Use good judgement.
Wish them luck, hopefully good*
Eamine your motives before you "help" out
Just be there when they need you
Really listen, a friendly ear is a soothing balm*


FORGIVENESS...

Forgive them for, "To Err is Human", and you just may end up making the same mistakes in course of time..*


KEEP THE FAITH...

Have faith in them. For, there is no love without trust.
Zip your lips when they confide in you*


EXPRESS YOURSELF CLEARLY

Know when they need a hug, and couldn't you use one?*
Offer to help, and know when " No thanks" is just politeness*
Quietly disagree, noisy No's make enemies*
Verbalsise your feelings*


HAVE FUN...

Get together often, misery loves company, so does glee.
Talk frequently, communication is important.*

Enjoying your friendship is the order of the day. So its not what we call a friendship if you don't feel right.
Always remember a friendship is worth it when you are able to enjoy the amazing relationship with no holds barred. Its a mutual bond for life that you cant give up.
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Saturday, May 3, 2008

For A Sunday Afternoon

By Dennis Siluk Ed.D.

1) The Sun, and Coffee at Starbucks

The sun has no door today-but it's looking for one;
its face is in the window-slightly, it has white bright
knuckles this afternoon-
It drags its Sunday rays along the profile of my face.
The trees outside, from where I sit, across from me
through the window,
are porky-pine green, and beyond those, are peach
colored balconies.
I'm at 'Starbucks,' Benavides: the walls have long
stretched out pictures, of a weird coffee pot,
tables, circles, coffee cups, and musical things, things
like horns and notes, and so forth...!
My latte is strong, I like it like that, and I sip on it,
while reading: Shelley, Dylan Thomas, and Plath.

There are no clouds today in Lima, just mist from the
ocean, mixed into the atmosphere, a lazy
lazy mist at that; a stiff and thick kind of mist, like
soup-with slow moving feet, for I can see patches
of blue beyond it, and the sun, the sun I so love
seeping through a porthole or two, still looking for
that door.

#2362 4-27-2008

2) Intrusion (Poetic Prose, and Confessional Poetry)

When I was a young man, I was likened to terrified fish, an alcoholic that is what I was back then, not how I wanted to be. It is forty-years now. I know now I was better off with no father, thus, I had to row my way to where I am today, through a generation of vipers. Mother was always fearful I'd become nothing more than driftwood, but thick salt kept me up, and I didn't know (floating just above my neck). My mother and brother were happy (perhaps the only ones) when I somehow slipped through the keyhole and finally opened the shut door and joined the opposite continents. A late bloomer you might say.

visit Dennis site.
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Saturday, January 12, 2008

Days of Me

Days of Me

When people say they miss me,

I think how much I miss me too,

Me, the old me, the great me,

Lover of three women in one day,

Modest me, the best me, friend

To waiters and bartenders, hearty

Laugher and name rememberer,

Proud me, handsome and hirsute

In soccer shoes and shorts

On the ball fields behind MIT,

Strong me in a weightbelt at the gym,

Mutual sweat dripper in and out

Of the sauna, furtive observer

Of the coeducated and scantily clad,

Speedy me, cyclist of rivers,

Goose and peregrine falcon

Counter, all season venturer,

Chatterer-up of corner cops,

Groundskeepers, mothers with strollers,

Outwitter of panhandlers and bill

Collectors, avoider of levies, excises,

Me in a taxi in the rain,

Pressing my luck all the way home.

That’s me at the dice table, baby,

Betting come, little Joe, and yo,

Blowing the coals, laying thunder,

My foot on top a fifty dollar chip

Some drunk spilled on the floor,

Dishonest me, evener of scores,

Eager accepter of the extra change,

Hotel towel pilferer, coffee spoon

Lifter, fervent retailer of others’

Fumor, blackhearted gossiper,

Poisoner at the well, dweller

In unsavory detail, delighted sayer

Of the vulgar, off course belier

Of the true me, empiric builder

Newly haircutted, stickerer-up

For pals, jam unpriser, medic

To the self-inflicted, attorney

To the self-indicted, petty accountant

And keeper of the double books,

Great divider of the universe

And all its forms of existence

Into its relationship to me,

Fellow trembler to the future,

Thin air gawker, apprehender

Of the frameless door.

-Stuart Dischell
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Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Poem for peace

Our nation’s innocence is lost,Stolen by acts of hate.

Helpless people paid the cost,For them it is too late.

Daughters, sons, husbands, wives,Sisters, friends and brothers.

All of them have lost their lives,To senseless acts of others.
New York’s city has been defaced.Bodies lay in rubble.

They can never be replaced.But war won’t end our trouble.


Angers only escalate,As we point out the guilt.

Violence will perpetuate.While we dig through the silt,
Cries of anger, cries for war,Echo in the air.

As if our bombs and missiles soar,It will make it fair.
People claim “eye for an eye”Our nation wants to fight.

If their innocent people die,Then will that make US right?
Punishment surely must take place.These murderers must pay.

But they are groups and not a race.Keep liberty in mind, each day.
We are people of goodwill,Of truth and love and light.

Please give thought before you kill,Take heed before you fight.
We ask, what do we tell our children?

How do we give them ease?

Reactions set examples for them,

Should we not teach them peace?


By Tammy Kane


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Ulysses By Alfred Lord Tennyson

“I cannot rest from travel; I will drink
Life to the lees. All times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone…
I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known - cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments…
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet experience is an arch where through
Gleams that untraveled world, whose margin fades
Forever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!..
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought…
Come, my friends,
‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
For my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”

Ulysses
By Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Friday, December 14, 2007

Poem to say that I love you

Why I want you even it may never know
will I fire my heart.
You mean to me more than the lovely sky
no matter where I am it still in the hand of sky.

From the dark sky to the heavy rain,
no matter what I still in the sky.
Never think about the hardness it has come
I still happily in the hand of your sky.
Yet the silent still come.

I am thinking that in a moment of neglect
I might fly from this silent sky,
augh in the eyes of the man who like a sky
and beside you begin life anew.

The silent make me think this way
yet I dare not to make my way of the sky
even you wish me to be.

From behind the bars, every bright morning
the look of a child smile in my face;
when I begin a song of joy,
his lips come toward me with a kiss.

O sky, if I want one day
to fly from your silent,
what shall I say to the weeping child's eyes,
forget about me, for I am captive bird?
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Friday, November 16, 2007

The Lost Dr.Suess Poem

I love my job,
I love the pay!
I love it more and more each day.
I love my boss, he is the best!
I love his boss and all the rest.
I love my office and its location,
I hate to have to go on vacation.
I love my furniture, drab and gray,
And piles of paper that grow each day!
I think my job is really swell,
There's nothing else I love so well.
I love to work among my peers,
I love their leers, and jeers, and sneers.
I love my computer and its software;
I hug it often though it won't care.
I love each program and every file.
I'd love them more if they worked a while.
I'm happy to be here. I am. I am.
I'm the happiest slave of the Firm,
I am.I love this work, I love these chores.
I love the meetings with deadly bores.
I love my job -
I'll say it again -
I even love those friendly men.
Those friendly men who've come today,
In clean white coats to take me away!
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Saturday, October 20, 2007

A Redneck Valentine

Collards is green
my dog's name is Blue
and I'm so lucky
to have a sweet thang like you.

Yore hair is like cornsilk
a-flapping in the breeze
Softer than Blue's
and without all them fleas.

You move like the bass,
which excite me in May.
You ain't got no scales
but I luv you anyway.

Yo're as satisfy'n as okry
jist a-fry'n in the pan.
Yo're as fragrant as "snuff"
right out of the can.

You have som'a yore teeth,
for which I am proud;
I hold my head high
when we're in a crowd.

On special occasions,
when you shave under yore arms,
well, I'm in hawg heaven,
and awed by yore charms.

Still them fellers at work,
they all want to know,
what I did to deserve
such a purdy, young doe.

Like a good roll of duct tape
yo're there fer yore man,
to patch up life's troubles
and fix what you can.

Yo're as cute as a junebug
a-buzzin' overhead.
You ain't mean like those far ants
I found in my bed.

Cut from the best cloth
like a plaid flannel shirt,
you spark up my life
more than a fresh load of dirt.

When you hold me real tight
like a padded gunrack,
my life is complete;
Ain't nuttin' I lack.

Yore complexion, it's perfection,
like the best vinyl sidin'.
despite all the years,
yore age, it keeps hidin'.

Me 'n' you's like a Moon Pie
with a RC cold drank,
we go together
like a skunk goes with stank.

Some men, they buy chocolate

for Valentine's Day;
They git it at Wal-Mart,
it's romantic that way.

Some men git roses
on that special day
from the cooler at Kroger.
"That's impressive," I say.

Some men buy fine diamonds
from a flea market booth.
"Diamonds are 4ever,"
they explain, suave and couth.

But for this man, honey,
these won't do.
Cause yo're too special,
you sweet thang you.

I got you a gift,
without taste nor odor,
more useful than diamonds...

IT'S A NEW TROLLIN' MOTOR!!

Yipeeee....Yee Ha!
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Friday, October 19, 2007

Spring Is Here

Bees soon will buzz,

Rabbits soon will hop,

Birds soon will sing,

Frogs soon kerplop.

Chicks soon will peep,

Kids soon will play,

Sun soon will shine,

A fine spring day!
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The Lost Dr.Suess Poem

I love my job, I love the pay!
I love it more and more each day.
I love my boss, he is the best!
I love his boss and all the rest.

I love my office and its location,
I hate to have to go on vacation.
I love my furniture, drab and gray,
And piles of paper that grow each day!

I think my job is really swell,
There's nothing else I love so well.
I love to work among my peers,
I love their leers, and jeers, and sneers.

I love my computer and its software;
I hug it often though it won't care.
I love each program and every file.
I'd love them more if they worked a while.

I'm happy to be here. I am. I am.
I'm the happiest slave of the Firm, I am.
I love this work, I love these chores.
I love the meetings with deadly bores.

I love my job - I'll say it again -
I even love those friendly men.
Those friendly men who've come today,
In clean white coats to take me away!
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Thursday, October 18, 2007

Mirrors

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Do you have to tell it all?

Where do you get the glaring light
To make my clothes look just too tight?

I think I'm fine but I can see
you won't cooperate with me;

The way you let the shadows play
You'd think my hair was getting gray.

What's that, you say? A double chin?
No, that's the way the light comes in;

If you persist in peering so
You'll confiscate my facial glow,

And then if you're not hanging straight
You'll tell me next I'm gaining weight;

I'm really quite upset with you
For giving this distorted view;

I hate you being smug and wise ~
O, look what's happened to my thighs!

I warn you now, O mirrored wall,
Since we're not on speaking terms at all,

If I look like this in my new jeans,
You'll find yourself in smithereens!
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Sunday, October 14, 2007

Poem for BEST Friend

Should we be best friend
If that’s all of the fate
Then I’ll take the order with honor
I have never been the one.
The one who is a good friend to you.

So now it is time to show you
that How I really care of you
I’ll offer you my shoulder
I’ll show how I care.

I promise you that
I will be waiting for you here
so if you come here
you will see me
I promise.


If we are to be Best friend
to warp out your tear
to clean you room
to make your house like a home
then I will take the job with the pride.
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Dream of hope and war

The dream of hope has end and everything is just a myth,
everyone is liar, the world is killing me.

Every hope and dream is just a little fake
that they acted to make me do creep.

They have never been themselve for any minutes,
It likes a group of wolfs surrounded a small sheep.

A small sheep who has always thought she is a king
but now the war is beginning, no more friend no more love.

Finally the thick dark cloud threaten the sky
and no more light, let everything goes as the way it should be.
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