We descendents of the grave eternal
But I the betrayed below heaven’s gate
Thy body shall be left decayed
as the tormenting vultures watch from above
My skin begins to crawl as maggots feast upon my flesh
Blessed is the raven among doves
for grim is his world but clings to that he loves
Autumn burns as I lie beneath the crescent moon and as ashes become thy fate
death shall grin.
What will become will become of this day and I wake up to find this day's been taken away by the thieves of the night,is this right,
does the night carry on even though it has gone,does the day have no say in its dawning?
It is morning in my head ergo,I am not dead or maybe I could be.
If the night doesn't see me does the day really free me,do I carry the can for the sins of mankind?
I find in illusion a great deal of confusion,a smelting of fantasy,a melting of freedom.
This hit and miss in me really disheartens me and although I keep trying there's something inside me that tells me I'm dying,it's a shame.
There is no fortune or fame for the runners up in a game just the harsh feel of failure,but if the day should return and I am still awake,there's a chance of a part,a starring role in the affairs of my own beating heart,
is it here
do you know
did the day really come and the night really go?
In cahoots with the Pole Star, I map out a route that will make me fortune,the moon makes me a beggar man and the beggars just scowl,
I'll be free soon not out of tune with my peers,not retreating from the advancing of legions of years.
It's all relative or so they say,
and what will become will become of this day.
I'd swim all the oceans for you
I'd break all my bones for you
I'd let all my blood
I'd put my right hand on the bible
But still I'd lie
I'd walk ontop of broken glass
I'd drive a car
I'd make decisions
That are rash
I'd wipe the makeup off my face
Even though that is a disgrace
I'd run a thousand mile race
I'd risk my life
I'd leave this place
I'd rip the wings off a butterfly
Just To see if it would still fly
I'd put a bullet through my head
Just To see if I'd die
I'd pray to the god that may or may not exist
I'd swim in a tank with the fish
I'd take every single risk
I'd lay down in my bed
And think of everything I dread
I'd re live nightmares
That go on in my head
I'd fly to the moon
I'd say "ill be back soon"
But if I had to,
I'd just drift off into the galaxies
Like a balloon
there's a body within the light of the moon
a woman with her hair like heavy rain on sand dunes
she climbs into my bed and hums a tune
of every song I've always listened to
to carry me on through what ever I'm going through
every night, she returns with blindness
over everything somber and desolate
she holds a candle at the memories I have
and I can see the truth and feel the intellect
I learn to live in the moment
and find the love in anyone who holds it
she comes whenever I ask
and one day I will follow her back
I sleep sound and amused
I'm withered but not abused
she always seems to save the day
by returning in the night to take me away
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever you see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful---
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
strung Christmas lights
dance along the gutters
flashing on and off;
the same invisible switch
causes the street lamps
to flicker into the
of a sky who
lost her moon
i can no longer be the sun
the veins that run
scar tissue disguised as
i think you'll soon figure out
the pattern of darkened bruises
on my thigh
are the color of
and the moon can't thaw
instead you can
reside in my bruises
pools of thawing blood
like being the one
to punch holes in
Under the violent moon light
Fog creeps into the vast lands
Winds blows across the gray forest
A murder of crows flies by,filling the skies like a black mask
The blasphemy has a catastrophic picture
The Demi God's are pleased
Souls will rise, within the darkness
The torment is never ending
I look at the sun and I remember you. I remember your eyes the way they stared at me. And I remember your hands so warm, entangled with mine as we talk endlessly. Your breath, so shredded, shivers my skin. You whispered words like come with me, and I am folly, for I fell deeply. Your hands on my cheeks and we came to be.
Oh that touch of yours so fatal, burned me from within.
And then I look at the moon and I remember myself. I remember wee hours as I'm up on my bed. I hug my knees and my mind wails to death. I remember nights as they turn me a mess. I remember you cold, I remember you left. I remember I was waiting, I can never forget.
You and you and you, I remember death.
I became accustomed to the simple life. To the way that boys liked it when I ran my fingers through their hair and toyed with their belts. The way that coffee tasted dull without sugar, and the way that the newspaper was always delivered at three minutes past seven. Doorbells all had the same melody and I was required to tip the waiter seventeen percent of the bill.
And that's why you scared me. Because complexity followed you like the smoky tail of a cigarette, always near and entirely ungraspable. I couldn't see you as simple, and I was frightened yet intrigued by the way that you reminded me of the ocean; swallowing both the moon and the sun in the same day.