Video results for: how lonely sits the cityMore results from video 
Megaman X Poetry and Music Logos is a new rap duo. This is the first video of a trilogy loosely based on the Megaman (Rockman) (More) Logos is a new rap duo. This is the first video of a trilogy loosely based on the Megaman (Rockman) X games for Super Nintendo.
A robot, the first imbued like a human
cursed with the ability to choose his movements and moods,
sleeps, secretly sealed beneath the surface of the Earth
For thirty years, tested to see that he won't unleash a wrath
that consumes every human in his path.
He sleeps, dreaming prophetically of what may be
and these are his dreams . . .
Achilles was born to fight,
Born to be adorned by laurels and fame
proclaiming the immortality of his name his birthright.
sometimes history, hanging on hooks, sits, waiting
for a character with sufficient moment, acuity and aim
to cleave a joint and leave a lifeless limb ready
for lesser wits to mince
And maybe there was a marriage of virtue and fortune
or maybe they're the same. Anyway,
Achilles had enough of this to beast anyone he met on the field
while wearing armor Hephaestus made with Cyclops aid,
Grimly given, gravely taken
There's something about the distribution of ability
the bell curve pays a toll in tribute
to the tribulations of one single prodigy
who so far exceeds even the type
that we call him a genius, inscrutably momentous
Maybe there's a marriage of virtu and fortuna
or maybe they were the same
Flung spears and swung swords
Who ever heard hurled tears and imploring words like this before?
Achilles left them maimed and mutilated
Moaning over how cruel Fate is.
His immortal mother must've known when she told him
he needn't feed the field and poets' pages with a flood of fallen blood and rages, bought by his own in wages
obscurity and purity exchanged for gory glory dearly gained in
fearsome fights.
I guess the Trojans were ready to go.
Whether the gods were bent on
obliterating Aeneas' home to favor Roman lands,
All we can see is a balanced battle in Achilles' hands.
A tree of trembling leaves, humanity,
hung in that balance; seas of souls.
Achilles quit the fight, watched an ocean of Akhaians
break against Troy's walls, coldly withholding the power to save; a farewell with each bootless wave
A thousand ships, pitted against the greatest city on Earth,
but, being a small sightless mortal, he's forced
to live by the moral code called honor.
Achilles could never perceive every effect
that any deed of his would achieve
So he has to act based on the most he can know:
whether the life he leads makes him a hero.
But these were merely dreams, possibilities
and when the robot awoke
from the thirty year testation imposed
by dr. light upon a womb of science
he found himself tender and weak, entombed in the earth
mindless and murderous robots, designed by a furious villain
came and crowded to kill him
confused by mortal danger and duty
he refused to be forced into aiming or shooting
to be reduced to a killer, a mere conflux of causes
the thought of slaughter made him nauseous.
laden with latency, soaked with golden potency,
like a brooding stormcloud bearing Zeus' fury,
Even after he clambered from the catacombs and upward,
scrambling to spare himself and everyone else
he was the target of every marksman.
He avoided hits and attacks, holding back
ripostes of his own, easy instincts
that would've blown them to bits.
With speed like the fleetest of Greeks
reading each scene's tangled melee,
he gently excelled the fell lions and archers
In an ancient era, on a different day . . .
On the field of sacred dharma, in front of the Pandava array,
the army's alarm was raised, launched from holy conches
and a warrior prince, not afraid, saw a glimpse
before a fray in a family knot
caught by a daunting decision of duty or duty,
the greatest of godlike warriors,
whose charity's tears blur vision and sight
fears karma, redounding through ages as personal causation.
I do not want to kill them
even if I am killed, Krishna;
not for kingship of all three worlds!
Exclaiming this, Arjuna awaited Krishna's reply,
who revealed his glory, thus pouring forth his buddhi:
Explaining on the chariot near to Arjuna—
or maybe they were the same
manifestations of the selfsame manifold majesty,
anyway, saying:
A man cannot escape the force
of karma by abstaining from karma.
Retracting actions is exactly acting,
in fact, living is commitment; even lacking is enacting
Sacrifice actions, perform with detachment
that which is ordained by duty.
Duty in deeds supersedes personal purity.
So said Krishna,the self abiding in the hearts of all creatures, The Bhagavad bidding slaughter for honor
And Arjuna, standing on the precipice of battle,
That greatest of godlike warriors,
whose charioteer's words give him insight
hears counsel, resounding through epochs as poetic revelation
The lonely robot, left to himself, did not. (Less)
Megaman X Poetry and Music Logos is a new rap duo. This is the first video of a trilogy loosely based on the Megaman (Rockman) (More) Logos is a new rap duo. This is the first video of a trilogy loosely based on the Megaman (Rockman) X games for Super Nintendo. A robot, the first imbued like a human cursed with the ability to choose his movements and moods, sleeps, secretly sealed beneath the surface of the Earth For thirty years, tested to see that he won't unleash a wrath that consumes every human in his path. He sleeps, dreaming prophetically of what may be and these are his dreams . . . Achilles was born to fight, Born to be adorned by laurels and fame proclaiming the immortality of his name his birthright. sometimes history, hanging on hooks, sits, waiting for a character with sufficient moment, acuity and aim to cleave a joint and leave a lifeless limb ready for lesser wits to mince And maybe there was a marriage of virtue and fortune or maybe they're the same. Anyway, Achilles had enough of this to beast anyone he met on the field while wearing armor Hephaestus made with Cyclops aid, Grimly given, gravely taken There's something about the distribution of ability the bell curve pays a toll in tribute to the tribulations of one single prodigy who so far exceeds even the type that we call him a genius, inscrutably momentous Maybe there's a marriage of virtu and fortuna or maybe they were the same Flung spears and swung swords Who ever heard hurled tears and imploring words like this before? Achilles left them maimed and mutilated Moaning over how cruel Fate is. His immortal mother must've known when she told him he needn't feed the field and poets' pages with a flood of fallen blood and rages, bought by his own in wages obscurity and purity exchanged for gory glory dearly gained in fearsome fights. I guess the Trojans were ready to go. Whether the gods were bent on obliterating Aeneas' home to favor Roman lands, All we can see is a balanced battle in Achilles' hands. A tree of trembling leaves, humanity, hung in that balance; seas of souls. Achilles quit the fight, watched an ocean of Akhaians break against Troy's walls, coldly withholding the power to save; a farewell with each bootless wave A thousand ships, pitted against the greatest city on Earth, but, being a small sightless mortal, he's forced to live by the moral code called honor. Achilles could never perceive every effect that any deed of his would achieve So he has to act based on the most he can know: whether the life he leads makes him a hero. But these were merely dreams, possibilities and when the robot awoke from the thirty year testation imposed by dr. light upon a womb of science he found himself tender and weak, entombed in the earth mindless and murderous robots, designed by a furious villain came and crowded to kill him confused by mortal danger and duty he refused to be forced into aiming or shooting to be reduced to a killer, a mere conflux of causes the thought of slaughter made him nauseous. laden with latency, soaked with golden potency, like a brooding stormcloud bearing Zeus' fury, Even after he clambered from the catacombs and upward, scrambling to spare himself and everyone else he was the target of every marksman. He avoided hits and attacks, holding back ripostes of his own, easy instincts that would've blown them to bits. With speed like the fleetest of Greeks reading each scene's tangled melee, he gently excelled the fell lions and archers In an ancient era, on a different day . . . On the field of sacred dharma, in front of the Pandava array, the army's alarm was raised, launched from holy conches and a warrior prince, not afraid, saw a glimpse before a fray in a family knot caught by a daunting decision of duty or duty, the greatest of godlike warriors, whose charity's tears blur vision and sight fears karma, redounding through ages as personal causation. I do not want to kill them even if I am killed, Krishna; not for kingship of all three worlds! Exclaiming this, Arjuna awaited Krishna's reply, who revealed his glory, thus pouring forth his buddhi: Explaining on the chariot near to Arjuna— or maybe they were the same manifestations of the selfsame manifold majesty, anyway, saying: A man cannot escape the force of karma by abstaining from karma. Retracting actions is exactly acting, in fact, living is commitment; even lacking is enacting Sacrifice actions, perform with detachment that which is ordained by duty. Duty in deeds supersedes personal purity. So said Krishna,the self abiding in the hearts of all creatures, The Bhagavad bidding slaughter for honor And Arjuna, standing on the precipice of battle, That greatest of godlike warriors, whose charioteer's words give him insight hears counsel, resounding through epochs as poetic revelation The lonely robot, left to himself, did not. (Less)
The Ascent Of Everest - How Lonely Sits The City 
2009-02-06 - extension: rar - size: 74 MB
The Ascent Of Everest - How Lonely Sits The City
Hosted on: mediafire.com
