High upon the hallowed hill,
games of war played out for greed and gain.
Bombs away, both foreign and domestic;
this is the end of all.
The hands of hate pulling the strings so tight,
watch as the puppet sings, dancing around the caucus;
this is the end.
Thread so bare you cannot see
that they're controlling you and me.
Open your eyes; behold,
this is the end.
Sever the rope, it's dragging us all to hell.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 4:40 PM UTC
Just when we thought
this place couldn't get
any
more
depressing,
a detriment of inadequacy ensues,
and the following hour is spent
beneath a paled,
frosted-blue canvas,
atop a frigid construct
of tether, and steel.
BUT!
As quickly as the dystrophy settled
within minds scarcely caressed
by hallowed slumber,
a frail,
yet,
intensifying light
erupts from the faded line
that separates reality
from ethereality.
As this newly self-empowered
hero of the day
ceases the boundless tundra overhead
with a golden fluorescence
of warmth,
and rapture,
still,
ever-trifling is the southern counterpart.
HARK!
From out of the myriad sheets
of thundercloud gray,
laced with veins of majestic purple,
and glazed with the ensemble
of over-ripened peaches
that blanket the northern skies
of this dawning day
spawns a duet of our mothers'
most
sacred
creation.
HOW MAGNIFICENT!
This spectrum couplet
that champions the veil,
extruding their way out
from the darkest,
most steadfast regions
of our Terran celestial.
Betwixt these valours,
who stand
as beacons of glory
in these most
disparaging of times,
dance a flock
of little
black and white birds,
unveiling to our starving eyes,
ever so eager to feast-
their autumn courtship that,
in its own wonderment,
was that of a
silent
symphony.
LO!
For many a fort night,
we have gazed upon naught
but soot-black sand,
sun-bleached dirt,
and endless foliage,
who's lives have been bled dry
long before even our first wave achieved
boots on ground.
And even as the sun rose higher,
relieving the quietus night
to nothing
but a faded memoir,
so, too,
these masters of vibrancy
shall fade.
BUT!
Even in their last moments of glory,
they triumphed as heralds,
mutely evoking a message
that said:
*'Even at our final breaths,
we shall stand as strong as we did
when She first employed us
into Her heavens.
And until we are completely vanquished,
never; never shall we falter.'*
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
None but the marked
shall rise in the dark.
Hell-bent;
the earth, shall they raze.
They took up the oath
to ever-revoke
mortality for immortal praise.
Lifeless, and hopeless;
a thirst so atrocious;
an eternal,
unquenchable lust.
In death, shall they grow;
to blood, they're betrothed.
Their hunger derails their disgust.
Sink teeth into skin;
to the flesh that's within;
bleed dry
the carcassed wellspring.
This world, once so grand,
'twas undone by their hand;
dereliction, their only decree.
The shade of the night
brings naught but delight
for those
who burn in the ray.
From out of the grave
spawn the crimson depraved,
feasting 'pon the walkers of day.
*When sunlight strikes west, 'til dawn, do we pray
against these abhorrent butchers called "They."*
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC
Tears of creation
fall from the overcast blanketing
of the billowy, white fields overhead,
blended with a requiem
that only the absence of dawn could manifest,
and kissed upon
by the ever-fluorescent canvases
of smoke, and flame
that carelessly intrude
upon the horizon.
Oh,
how fastidious is the misting
that blesses this premature day,
invoking a spontaneity
within the mundane clockworkings
that symbolically define
the average,
the everyday
and the norm.
Glorious is this sight to behold.
Not only by our soulpanes,
but through the remainder;
our entire spectrum of sensory awareness
that we are so gifted to have received,
yet,
rarely do their values go little more
than depreciated.
The refreshment
that quenches our starving skin,
and slowly enfilms us
with the caressings of unrequited purity.
The dampening of the air
that perpetually enthralls
even the most tolerant
resisters to aroma.
The crispness;
unadulterated,
and without perversions of the modern day;
enrapturous are the resonant entrails of the strata
that ever so gently envelop,
and awaken our slumbering buds.
And finally,
but without conviction,
the resound of symphonic harmony,
abound with the alluring enchantment
that,
in seamless refrain,
could only be achieved
by such a reverent miracle of nature.
These are the moments in which I revel.
And blessed be Her,
who benevolently grants us
with such an immaculance
of cornerless beauty.
Graceful, and sacred is the oasis in the sky.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
Every day we see them,
passing by them without care.
It comes as quite a shock to some,
but trust me, they are there.
They come in shapes and sizes
just the same as you and me;
their colors range from black to white
and all the shades between.
They're just like us in all respects;
they've hopes and dreams and fears.
They've been with us through spans of time,
from young to old in years.
Some of you may notice them
but most go by unseen,
and lest they let their secret out
a person's all they'll be.
But should they step beyond the veil
they've hung to hide their truth,
it's rarely welcomed with embrace,
and often with dispute.
It's a shame to see how some
could treat a human being
merely for the way they are,
or even how they seem.
Patronized for their beliefs,
or preferences declared.
Victims born of senseless crimes
are left to reap despair.
Stop the violence. Stop the hate
before there's nothing left.
Your ignorance gives wake to see
them all to pointless death.
Intolerance gives wake to war,
of which we're on the brink.
Love them all for who they are,
and not for what you think.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
I don't know what to do;
I'm strung out through, and through.
I try my best, they still detest;
I don't know what to do.
I don't know where to go;
I've lost myself below.
And here I'll sit; I'm ready to quit;
I don't know where to go.
I don't know who I am,
I wish they'd understand.
This flesh, my own. This mind, unknown;
I don't know who I am.
I don't know where I'll be;
this road lay not for me.
I tread a line so faded, and fine;
I don't know where I'll be.
I don't know when's the end,
it may be 'round the bend.
Wherever it be, it's waiting for me;
I don't know when's the end.
I don't know why I try.
I may as well lay down, and die.
'cause in the end we all shall wend;
I don't know why I try.
I don't know anymore;
I live a life abhorred.
I need release from this disease;
I don't know anymore.
All these things I show,
yet you dismiss them so.
I gave you signs, you fed me lines.
I don't know; I don't know.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
Once upon a time,
there was a sun that shined.
A light so long ago,
that sunk so far below.
It touched the skies and seas,
and glittered through the trees.
A gleaming to the wind
that gilded all within.
As the dawn would shine,
it cast reprieve on time,
and amaranthic ray
would warm the welcomed day.
'til darkness tread afoot,
and bathed the world in soot.
A blackened, marred despair
had snuffed out all 'twas there.
So fickle was the flame
that danced amidst the rain,
yet, time and time again,
its embers spread too thin.
And all that once was bright
now suffered endless night.
Their cries, a stifled wail,
and naught could pierce the veil.
This is all that's left;
a shell, akin to death.
An absent, lifeless scene
that once beget a dream.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
Bells that chime with malcontent
shall toll the sounds of dread.
Whistles cry with detriment;
the hour of death's ahead.
Fields are razed, and valleys hazed;
miasma shall ensue.
Mountains crumble; end of days
rides 'pon the heels of doom.
Death has come for everyone;
no cornerstone unturned.
Putrefy to purify;
with blood, your lakes shall churn.
Sanctity's naught but a dream;
rescind your factions few.
It's all for one to come undone,
and all shall burn with you.
Clouds aflame, for in His name
the sky comes thund'ring down.
And when this land rests in His hand,
He'll take our throne and crown.
Tyrant-force with no remorse;
from out the sea, He'll rise.
He leads His thrall to conquer all,
with fire in His eyes.
Apocalypse shall head the Styx;
the river shall run high.
And to the banks, you stand in ranks
and heed Lord Charon's cry,
"File in, all ye of sin."
His cackles crack the trees.
*"Thy Earth undone, my kingdom come.
Now sunder unto me."*
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
Lazed beneath the sycamore,
we laid upon the forest floor
amidst the myriad hues of leaves,
so picturesque in reverie.
As we basked within the shade
we'd reminisce our latter days.
Our dream come true in years to come
with hope our threads of fate stay spun.
Kiss me here, oh darling dear;
that's what you'd whisper in my ear.
You'd draw me close into your soul;
not once could I resist your pull.
We'd traipse the earth between the trees;
forever yours I thought I'd be,
until the day that you weren't there...
until the day that you weren't there.
And just like you, the leaves were gone;
not one lone branch did they lay upon.
Our footsteps where we once had walked
now cloaked beneath a sheet of frost.
And from the sky poured shades of gray;
the sun will hide to mark this day.
I'll be right here, oh darling dear;
that's what you'd whisper in my ear.
Our dream come true had turned to naught,
just as our tree had fell to rot.
Now there's nothing left to find,
save for the memories left behind.
Razed beneath the sycamore,
I wrest my soul forevermore.
Our cherished past runs 'cross my eyes,
and dies within my own demise.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 7:39 AM UTC
There lies a place with nary a trace;
a solitude bound by sin.
It's far beyond the light of dawn,
and twice as dark within.
It's here you'll find the sands of time
have ceased their endless flow,
and should you come beyond the sun,
you'll lose yourself below.
A harrowing fear is all you'll find here;
its haunting perpetuates nigh.
This trial of death claims ill of breath;
'tis here you shall never, ever die.
For inside these walls bear petulant thralls;
the likes, you've never endured.
A rancor so stained with ill-met refrain;
a housing for all the unpure.
So solemn, the fray, in all disarray;
deliverance brought from down low.
And now that you're here, there's nothing to fear,
save for all that's in tow.
Bask in the bliss, you're sentenced to Dis;
this city, beyond the beyond.
And never again shall you reprimand
any, and all that you've wronged.
Murderous fiends beyond wildest dreams,
and those who longed for despair;
these patrons of old have lived the untold;
cower, as they take you there.
They'll show you the pain; every ounce of disdain
wrought from their memories passed,
and just when you think that you're on the brink
they'll mar you will all that they have.
Again, I remind you cannot resign
this life you've carved for your own.
Now pass through the gate, and suffer your fate
and know that you'll never be alone.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC