Belligerent- at war, designating or of a state recognized under international law as being engaged in a war.
Decadence- A process, condition, or period of decline, as in morals, art, literature; deterioration, decay.

Belligerent decadence,
may I reproach your horrible
agenda?
Fore-score wasn't a play on
words. These years have passed
as unwillingly as we've
accepted your rule.
Hyperboles creating a sense
of dissidence, because judging
anomalies is a task better left
to the proficient.
Maybe now their decadent
dissidence may materialize.

Belligerent decadence,
is it for you that sympathy
now grows sour?
Sour enough to please a pigs
trough. A malignant canopy
erected for weary heads,
yet finding relief means
resolution is what's being fed
to hungry bureaucratic slave
hands obsessing on getting more
for nothing.
Obsolete, ritualism has become
more copied than read. Is one
agonizing grin of disgruntled
workers creating the back drop,
for proud men raising a trophy,
the emblem of monetary
perplexity.

Not enough make enough.
So belief can die it's painful
reminder,
"Faith cast as dice, when no
one believes there's a chance."

Belligerent decadence,
remind me to remind them,
the people you so rally to scourge;
that interpretation is not
better left for your eyes,
but theirs.
Remind me to speak in
rag tag metaphor so as to
dispel the wrench clogging
their system.
Remind me to encourage
them to explore further;
beyond their machinations,
so they again can see this
machines engine.
Maybe the clog is yours,
but like every circulatory
system may fall victim to
stroke like conditions so
shall yours.

Belligerent decadence
rise up fallen brethren,
falling faster than the
history of Columbus.
How long till we see
the incredible hyperbole
being played out so
deliberately? How long till
we seethe for proof,
the products of ignorant
disease.
How long till we find
life's anathema like genius
executed upon every casted
ballot?
The forsaken taking heed
making up the norm for the
moment.

Empty rants, mind slowing
products infect our once proud
carriers with poverty, and
disease.
Creative incentive tossed
upon the coals of cold furnaces,
define all eyes and see all
ears believe.
Then again if you haven't
given interpretive thought a
chance, belligerent decadence
will never vanish, but upon
this battlefield, your soul
will be brandished.

"Belligerent Decadence!"

Disparage me the words,
and I will whisper sincerity.
Hide from me my insecurities,
and I will bare you my purity.
Barrage me with tyranny,
I'll witness to depravity.
Show me strength,
and I will teach you posterity.
Abide by wisdom,
and I will give you integrity.

Developing within, a conscious
thought, a work in progress.
Reminded, yet my eyes can't see
what it is my soul yearns to hear.
The clothing a thin veil for the
shame I feel. The smile, an
imposter for the agony I carry.

Come across the gorge of clarity,
receive the outstretched hand
of my charity.
Grace me with your demons of
infirmity, and receive a closed
mouth, an open heart washed in
unity.
Give freely your inheritance,
and receive abundance that surpasses
all monetarily.
Stand upright, for we all stand
together. Stand with conviction,
none of us are worthy. Stand with
resolve for none knows the journey
of the other. Stand heart exposed
for we've all felt incomplete.

Hone your craft, guard it with
ferocity.
Be bequeathed a right to remain
in anonymity.
Focus your eyes on that which is
above, be made fertile for the minds
that crave guidance.
Humble yourself in the task you've
undertaken; but to simply mark
and remember where you've been,
and what you're becoming.

In the essence of torture, you'll
find self condemnation, recognize
this contorted disfigured lie,
****** it when it's forked tongue
comes to sit at the door step of your
ear, the portal to your thoughts.
Sweep it's carcass away as you would
cobwebs or dust bunnies, but remain
vigilant it will come again, masked
as some other idea you hold of
your own failures, your own
deformities.

Show me perfection,
and I will say God.
Talk to me of wisdom,
and I will silently nod.

It cannot go unspoken this time.
Split in twixt, bifurcated,
so one half couldn't recognize the
whole.

Blindfolded by rage, scarred
by the ravages of what if's,
the open metaphor for pain.

Removing myself from the
standards I began to set.
Unrealistic, out of reach,
unattainable.
Blurring my vision, by bended
elbow, making excuses faster than
solutions; sinking slowly without
a branch, only an empty bottle
to adhere to.
The calamity called for peace,
and I've listened.

Her hand innocuous at first,
now radiant, strong, and sensual.
Grasped hold of me,
ripping me up from my rotting moorings.
Providing proof there's
still strength in my devices,
my incentives, in my hopes
lie my dreams.

It will never again go unspoken
through my action, it will be heard
careening off foundations,
piercing eyes, and lancing ears.
Words conversed by glance, and
through touch.

Reformed, refined by the beautiful
touch of the divine.
It will never go unspoken again.
Once broken picked up, and loved
back together.

It will never again be unspoken.
The words, the elegance, the clarity,
it all must be perfect, perfectly annunciated.
In me I've found freedom.
Through you I am once again
welcomed into your kingdom.

As fresh as the cresting sun.
As renewed as a parched root system,
sipping from newly fallen rain.
As strong as the piercing scent
of death.
As inspiring as a color never before seen.
As beautiful as an uninterrupted
view of the coming horizon.

Tracing my tracks against the
dew soaked grass.
The stride seemingly effortless,
but that imposition of thought
betrays the plight.
A vehicle of processes unseen.
A coalescing of doubt, fatigue,
and soul shrieking fear.
The listless sojourner bides his
time, by hearing the winds
flow through the branches of
trees sheltering his tumultuous,
tortured head.

The mirage of freedom begs for him.
The anticipation of impact beckons him.
The theory of altruism entices him.
The actual silence imparts peace on him.

As brave as a child facing life with
no hand to hold.
As defined as the microscopic view
of the macroscopic systems moving
around me.
As invigorating as a bath in a cool
blue spring.

Renewed, reborn, raised.
The tearing pain of exhaustion earns
no acknowledgement.
The screaming agony of muscles
garners only more ambition.
The eyes of a weary sojourner
shows sincere empathy,
real love,
amazing faith.

Surrender yourself,
lay prostrate,
know your place,
and by grace,
they will see it upon your now
smiling face.