Sublime silence on the outcast marshes casted against the grey hills, too many large avarice’s to climb before the night fills up from the 32 brothers of Jain laying outside casually laying next to brains how then tomorrow comes just a little too early with farmhands and families chiding across the stone fences of solidified ones next too left faced so the wind caught the lifters before dragging upon the pavement red colors slurry with the clear curry favors from boot kickers thinking feet taste like curry hurry now before the bloated bow of Jamison’s ship across the American gates drift to sleep more often than you know but you’ll never find from the laughing torn apart from targets harnessed the underdarks promise trough filled till the gauntlets hill squealing pig fissure separating spectators from sepulcher never pauses left breathless whistles hasten to the untimely demise what a trend a friend asked me what I was doing but couldn’t respond because the algorithm wouldn’t let me breath heavily disaster of compost composing a decomposition of which snitch position to behead quietly an analogy of past tense and future meaning bereft of any merit to trust those qualifying for positions of power hours are 7-6am and please don’t push breath out of dispensers

Caged in eclectic behaviors
dribbling down past the windscreen
a glance is all it takes, it seems
to turn the carnage to pleasant days
and vice versa
what will I say when all I've ever wanted was to fragment
the day-to-day. What will happen when she breaks the silence.
talk now or cry later.
a repetitive cry to drown out with vices and sadder times.
whomever created this survival game is as infected as politicians. now.
ultimatums curry favors, but I hold neither strength nor endeavors.
men are protectors, but left to daily devices, sightless to maniacal hive mind heist striders above favors.
now it seems we're the ones in need of saviors

Asgard for a felon
a thousand souls dashed amongst the shoreline
disheveled bad & good folk alike
lost amidst the tethers swirling
astounded I drift down amidst the fetters
below the surface of the dreadnaught infested pocket depths of bitterness and dementia, here festering crying screams of betrayal, derelict sins dredging the skepticism besides the banks of moanful dirges in repentance for every past grievance I'm unable to shake.
These are the depths.
always the depths.
the depths they must be madness
to grant eternal life, to the eternal slumber
insisting, this time you will succeed in life
but only by your failures.
and yet,
I still am not able to find solace, from severing the tendons,
neither the depths noose around my ankle seems to be so tight. It seems life continues trying to pry this moss covered shell off my back.
perhaps, now, the hermit is not my style
and, perhaps
I've learned enough
to shed this chapter
⌜LEVEL UP⌟

I've had visions, not before
but later on
of me donning on cotton covered scrawlings of feather down horns banishing cretins from porches threatening my dinner portions
But, more awe than form to psychiatric patients brandishing
war torn grins from chins whilst scuffling about amongst floors of white marble enlightening me once again of the future I get to look fooor.
So another sip slips past amongst the radar and by this light on the keyboards I alight myself to dream once more.

Schizzy in the sunlight
Laughing all awhile
Dancing skinless amongst
Elderberry tree's bones
Rattling of bottles
Amongst branches
And thieves, deceiving memories of what's to come
What's to believe
Across the shadows marsh
Casting bubbles on bricks of breeze.
I'll see you again
My torment, and disease

Hate you
I hate you
I hate you
I hate you
I hate you
I hate me
For hating
You.
So.
I hate.
And hate.
And despair.
And **** myself a bit faster.
I hate you.

My vision clouds before the moistureless concrete walls, a test ahould I prevail like time spent learning magick in divided cells of my past come to live again as a new beast roaring for attention.
It's what I deserve.
It's what I asked for atleast.
Grateful the opportunities granted plant an ideology of solve et coagulation though my spine protests the divine weight I traips when bearing.
Though my sight seeing detour detention center created of melted steel, cable, and drywall, I peer into an entrancing existence.
The soft soul that calls me her own, demonic armor left aside to accept mine own.
How ecstatic. This pain new to me, used to physically abusing myself to prove I could still feel meaning in the lonely traveled roads of a morally conscious bard , my stories I've lived and heard far across the winding winds.
Forgotten almost as easily, is it true I've ever lived before my dark angel of the mountains graced me with her presence? Left unchecked I stress the understood  importance of the natures violent growth.
I put the consequences on the backburner and found myself a partner.
Am I lucky, or a fool, or drunk on possibilites that I think are ******* cool?
All of the above and more, I'll pour my adoration forth a soul spring gushing rapid comfy, polar aspects mingle
Touching
Holding
Happy