Greenery
Part I


I see the sky,
The goodness hides;
The low tree tempts my wandering mind.

Greenery
Part III


My spirit awakens in the sands of realism.
I wander through solace,
Disappeared;
In theorism.
What was that beast that I saw in the Greenery?
Was it celestial?
Or perhaps,
Machinery?

The sun forever guiding,
Their hoods forever rising.
The times are never changing,
Our cave forever breaking.

A cause so lost in the dust of the Earth.
A pause so long, the ancients heard.
A man so strong, the river yearned
To cloak his self and the life he earned.

Under the waterfall,
I am shunned by nature's screeching cries,
And drowned in hooded leeching lies!
A great machine that changed the time!

Twisting in a brilliant path,
Above the cave, the water's last
Falls upon the empty man
Willful to be drowned in red.

Blurring,
Through a lifeless realm of light.

Blinding,
Is the massive ray display!
Phasing through two different voids,
As life enfolds, the dark engulfed.

Before the storm,
The tallest bricks reform.
And waves ring silence,
As the boat stays on the shore!

I'll travel to the distant past
To cast the gauntlet to the mass!

As the wise men fill with rage,
Their heads take cover
Under hoods of shape!

Detonate!

Greenery
Part II


I took a bite,
The fruits of life,
A shuffle sounds beyond my eye;
I'm in disguise.
Wires bends into my mind,
My gears do not collide.
I know not how to name my find...

I saw bestowed,
Upon his gold,
This monster chasing me with old.
I tried to run,
I could not hide;
Omnipresence is his guide.
The circling worlds are spinning behind.

Laugh.
Frown.
****.
Cry.
Die... inside.

Expose your life force.
Destroy your life force.
Please leave your life force in the bin.
You are normal now.
Rejoice, you are happy now.
Bow down, human.

Insert the tubular device into your face.
You will feel a mellow ******* force.
This is normal. It is functional.
Watch a short video to proceed.
Yes... you are amazing.
Press the button to capture your face.
You look fantastic.
See how happy you are...
Human.
You are feeling...
Fantastic.
Human.

How dreadful to see
Those that I cannot read.
All over the latest feed.

Not poetry,
Like puppetry.
A repetition of words, numbers, and symbols that aren't clever in the least.
And users with names
In impossible tongues.
Their gibberish reeks!

Line after line,
All the same, it's uncared for.
They write marriage, black magic, and European countries.

It's daily infinity,
Thieving the spaces from more thoughtful writing.
Shall I fight just to see the absense of these;
And say hello only to real poetry.

My pen is drawn,
I play my card.
In opposition, bullets charge
At the humble hull that graces space.

I row through open,
Sound is broken,
Yet I feel the great explosions
As I begin my work of art.

His beard can change the name of Virgo,
As it entangles her with rugged work.
His fingers grasp the fins of Cetus,
Guiding him through hallowed dirt.

Upon my course of groundless ground,
A chorus spits its sinful praise
Upon the Heavens, hands are raised;
Filthy angels make the games.
Holy traitors, boundless bounds,
And sacrilege will fall as rain.

The ones who think they are marionettes,
Will taste the blood on their swords.
Controlled by delusion,
They swing from confusion,
There are no strings in an aimless space.

The pen masters dance in allusions!
Imprison the stories of old,
And execute them with ink!
A war to break out in a comedy show,
Over one wordless tome—
On an altar in my vision zone!

My pen unarmed,
My senses harmed.
A soundless token of echoing voices,
To be spoken in softness, over thundering roughness.
This altar carved with wood and stone,
This tome of words with sheets of ink,
These words wear masks— I cannot read.
Tear a page,
It falls like rain.
Observe the rage,
Let freedom faint.
Soak the page,
Its masks detatch.
Lift the rage,
I row away.

The water rises,
And I awaken in the dark of the tunnel stream.
The lights have vanished,
And my perception is lost.

As my eyes are open;
Home to view these ancient walls.
In paintings, I have only seen
These deathly catacomb halls.

My lights awaken,
The water shaken.
Gone are the hooded paintings; stolen
From the dephs of the catacomb halls.

From the doctrines of space and nature,
I paint the walls with answers
To guide the ancients who rebuilt the city.
Once more, the water rises.
One more, another body
To flow through the tunnel stream.

Coexistence
I


I attend on each specified day,
I take off my hat in respect.
I believe in what I see.
I know;
And I dare not reject.

Coexistence
II


The life at the ends of the sea.
The worship that's sent,
We receive.
We can build the waters of magic;
As long as they believe.

Coexistence
V


What did they see?
They felt disbelief.
What didn't they know?
My clearness was shown.

What didn't they see?
A world beyond their peaks.
What I could have owned,
That struck them unknown?

What I've failed to see;
What they've failed to believe.
They brought forth their ignorance,
Bestowed upon me.

Motionless, I lay.
Surrounded by ghosts of ice.
Spiritless, I venture.
And cleverness,
I display.

Coexistence
III


I look outside,
Their open eyes,
I catch of glimpse of hungry minds;
And many lies.
My imagination breaks free and flies onward.

Under the sun some time ago,
A violent, greedy form was shaking,
And was struck down, breaking,
By the Son of Heads he tried to pry apart.

But now he is living.
A light shows upon his wicked hooks.
Pointed at something glimmering behind the chorus of swords.

It brightly glares down, the lost appendages float around,
One strikes! Oh– what a sound!
If it just had a mouth it would scream for the world!
Its fingers bleed and are lost to their home,
Said home no longer bound to its segmented docks.
Bridges burning, joints are turning, liquids leaking,
The strings are singing, the clouds are cutting,
A God is laughing! A box is smashing!
"Pathetic fool! See where your arm is now?
Where is your body now? He can't help you,
The evil one that left him lost and helpless!
Powerless fool! You are nothing without him!
He is an engineer without a wrench,
And you a wrench without a *****!
Another choked by the strings of many songs... lost."

The shadow bleeds. He cannot see.
Without a mind he cannot think.
The sheep has tamed and came to shame...
My shadow... bound to his remains.

Have at it, thwart, the shadow.

See their heights of architecture,
Manufactories and telescopes,
Venturing onwards to what they can see.

Encountering the wise men,
Mistakably ambitious.

Justifying their plan, they
Solute to their integrity.
Utilizing machinery,
Now they finally see.

Passed was the opportunity of their species.

O' music box,
With many strings,
Why imprison me?
Why cast your blades across the steely sky?
I must away, but you force me to stay.

When I was a boy, I saw unleashed upon you,
With my young eyes,
A proud disease.

My friend was sick; I could not heal him,
So all I could was smash and bash him.
He would not die, I did not cry,
For I was lost to my own music making box.

"Father, what is this gift? A toy?"
Asked I the living wandering boy.
"How does it work?"
Like death, my youngest self should have foreseen.

A proud disease indeed forgot its home,
Attacked its cherished shelves;
Inflicting flames upon its tomes.

A child swore to slay the host,
But his ageless mind has grown old,
and shapeless face has new hope.

This world he's always known with costly stones lay burried now beneath the singing strings,
And under the sea within these winding keys,
Leaving my steely prayers opposed!

This world I've always known has tarnished under a toxic pearly gate,
These songs I've come to hold corrupted by this poisoned shape.
As stillness kills, I must escape!

My armless form enclosed,
As my skyward craft arose.

This music box aglow with hate!
Screaming a tune to fix my broken fate!
I am contained.

This music box,
That beat my rocket tame.

A Billion Stories
Book II: The Human
Part IV: Conspiracy


Deliberately killing,
Their aim on the head.
Deliberately fighting,
The truth in the bed.
Deliberately hiding,
All those who are dead.
Deliberately trying;
My head is not led.

Coexistence
IV


The gods surprised,
They see my mind and know not why.
I see the face of Man divine.

The gods were lost,
And knew not why.
Their venom and
Their words were cruel,
They shouted.
I fall into the empty eyes of the sky.

Traveling a rocky shore,
In spite of waves that threaten.

Carried deep into the sea,
Into a lapse of memory.

As darkness pulls my very soul
The deep can't slay my fate.
Lost in all its meaning,
While I see my final day.

Awakened by the truth,
As I stare in much confusion.
Struggling to stand,
And to see through blinding light.

Beckoning me onwards even further
through the ocean,
As I struggle in its wake to see the source of mystic beauty.

I follow to the homelands,
Where the birth of man has happened.
Staring in amazement at the sunken ancient islands.
Enlightened in the truth of life,
My travel has been ended.

Part IV: Strings Through Face


How it works is far beyond me,
But what it holds my eyes can capture.
Twist the knobs and find the right keys,
Twist the knobs and my face is captured.

I have no face.
I cannot see but I still wonder.
My eyes are gone.
Where is the lightning?
As I hear the thunder.

This music box ate my face alive!
Stringing out my sight!
Where are you?

Tearing off my nares!
Who are you!

Sewing close my jaw!
Why are you...

My face is lost!
Father, my face is gone!
I need another...
This music box defiles my slumber!

Father!
Do you hear my calls?
My face is lost father, where did I go wrong?

The air around is dead,
I cannot let it in.
My voice outside cannot be said,
But I need an answer...

Forces unbeknownst to me await behind the heaven's gate,
And my father... a figure in the clouds, whose image calls so loud...
The ward who kept me under lock and key,
Who gifted me a script I could not read:
A set of prison bars too high for me to reach.

This grand composer of the songs and strings,
As I grow closer, turns around and seems...

Terrified... of me? My father runs, my chorus has begun.

So much to see, but the shadow...
The shadow strung with greed.
My shadow... whom I cannot leave.
Striketh other worlds with swords and lashes on a quest to mold!

My father runs. No! What have I unleashed?
A chaos tree with spinning clockwork leaves.
All I wanted was to breathe, but my breath moves mountains,
Feel, my breath that floods the ocean floor.
I am drowning.
Drowning in this music box's open sea.

"What is this greenery that I see? Is it possible that it's more beautiful than Isonomia? It is wondrous; yet it lies beyond our walls. Why would the leaders of the city keep us blinded from this beauty?"


Isonomia
Book II: Outside


A ladder?
On my regular trip to the market;
With barrels of wheat;
I saw something neat.

With rungs of steely rope,
And chains of gold glow in the sun.
It reaches to the height of our walls.

Why?
Why is this in placement?
What should I seek?
Isn't our city only the truth?

Climb?
And disobey the leaders and perfect plans?
In search for knowledge
Rung by rung?

Beauty.
At the height of the ladder;
I saw greenery,
I saw life, not machinery.

Why must the leaders hide the rolling hills?

Encompassing the limelight,
Is the sweeter sense on Earth.
Gaze upon the sunlit paths,
Forever in their stay.

Life forms walk their fruitful ways,
Are they to witness judgement day?

Architecture, and distant waves,
I'm he to judge their progress made.

Brother, why must you go off again?
Stay and play with me, brother, you're my only friend,
Instead of marching off alone away from home.
They always say to me I gotta grow up some time,
But growing up is so lonely.
My brother marches off alone.

Remember when the floor was burning under lava,
And the furniture was the only stable safety?
Father would scold us for making him worry,
Then melt into the floor and rise up a monster.
That day, brother, I know you won't believe it,
But in his eyes I saw a child lit.
There was a spark, brother, and then mom came home.
She brought in a letter that made him hide in his coat.
That spark disappeared, and the child died.
Does everyone have a kid resting inside?

My brother stares at his clothes in a campfire's glow.
The blood on this hands showing all that he knows.
I cast my heart to the stars, brother please come home.
My brother watches the stars. To forever he goes.

Gazing out my window at the subtle rise of dawn,
The figure of my brother approaches on the lawn.
There was a spark in his eye and then silver and lead.
Forever lies my brother who won't march off again.

Orion
Part III


The staircase has fallen between them,
And longings for love were dispersed.
But only one force lay against them;
The Phaneron, Man was diverse.
The souls of the elders were thought of as weak,
The mountains became flat as land.
Our spirits believed to have conjured an owner,
The thieves falling out of the plan.
The makers are meeting atop the clocktower;
Without hands.
My mind is their plan.

Low-Hanging Tree
Part II


I set out with a strong tune,
And a thick beat in my heart.
My goal in life is visible,
And my pathway lies ahead.
But yet I find myself aware
Of seaspray on my face.
But I know there's nothing there,
My pathway lies ahead.

I'll find the low-hanging tree,
The clouds.
As I imagine in my head.

A part of me became a fiend;
A treasurer that left my sleeves
To find the shiny end to all his dreams.

The flying of his lash upon the sphere
Has caused my own to go numb.

Twisted fingers wilting in the sun,
Prying apart the singing Son of Heads
With all his bleeding life; he was found dead.

A proud disease was born a sheep.
Guided by a shepherd's hand to show its face across the desert sand
Until he dropped the leash.
Wild poison spilled upon the civil streets.

Across the ocean's dome,
Controlled by piercing shouts without a doubt;
On an altar in the distance:
An open book with censored words!
Tear a page,
Observe the rage.
Not what any freedom fighter would.

In a rowboat in the open,
Draw the source of their devotion.
Pencil sketch the jagged beard,
And stretch the nose a thousand years.

What a time to strike some fear!

The terrorists will echo with madness,
The pen is your sword.
The innocent will run to the forests,
And the artists make war.

Across the desert homes,
Contained by giant seas to some degree;
In a planetary orbit:
A crying team with crooked teeth!
See the page,
The winds enrage.
Not what any freedom lover should.

Bullets charge at the comedian's door,
Burning down all the carpenter's lore.
Sculptors mourne over severed stones,
The innocent turn, yearn, learn...

The invasions form, warn, and burn.

As the terrorists echo with madness,
Hold the pen as your sword.
As the innocent run to the forests,
Let the artists make war.

Throw the drawings ashore!

This music box,
With many locks, and countless knobs,
These melodies play on its strings,
They're nightmares that contain my dreams.

This music box,
A proud disease,
Cannot sustain my faulty sleep.
If I thunder down the walls,
Within, another structure stalls.

O' music box!
Open enclosure that can't release!
Calming madness in a silent stream,
Lined with boulders and a storming breeze!

Collect my thoughts!
Within this music box,
An open sea, yet no sea released.
It tempts me with its pounding waves,
Arrests me, I can hear but I must see.

I am trapped, and just this box can set me free!

A Billion Stories
Book III: Conclusions
Part I: Unified Field Theory


Created by love,
Created by magic,
Created by mercy
The venom is tragic.
Pull the threads,
Roll the yarn;
Sew the man to understand.
Let him love,
Let him wilt,
Let him speak and
Let him think.
Do not tell, 
Keep me hidden,
Let him find out for himself.

Feeling down?
There's one way out.
Inclusion will bring you back to life.
You will never break apart,
Now consume like the rest. Be like the rest.
In exchange for your life force, you will be given the best.
In a brief moment you will be presented with supplements.
Take all that you want until your smile returns.
Wash them down with coffee and alcohol,
And show everyone that your smile's returned.
Now you can resume your desires and functions,
And remain happy... like everyone else...
Human.

Father, take the body and leave it to drown.
The paths I built are deadly to cross.
This form is raw, these arms are gone,
My face is lost, what can I pray upon?
The windows shut; I cannot go,
Within this self I cannot hold,
Without this form, my panic stilled,
Why trapped with so much sky unfilled?  
Tell this box to let me through.
Make it sing me a song that will lift the bars
And set my ideas free to roam outside this room.
I want to plant a chaos seed.
I wish it to sprout a wonderful tree with clockwork leaves,
To leave in the sphere to watch from my chariot seat.

A Billion Stories
Book I: The Wreckage
Part I: Demolition



Look at the wave,
I cannot breathe,
A maple in the forest.
A timer ticks infinitely,
A globe that couldn't save its face.
I gaze across the evergreens,
Each had its own life story.
They fell along the battlefront
And lost their lives and glory.
Each stump was bloodied 
And was thrown,
Into a broken honor.
To watch the maple's swaying leaves,
To ponder of its journey.

A Billion Stories
Book III: Conclusions
Part III: The Snake of Enlightenment


Let him think!
Let him, have seen!
Beauty should not be an opposable thing!
Wisdom is greatness! 
Go hide from the group!
My love is not laughter,
My love is for truth!
Don't bid farewell to everything!
Don't look at the scene in reverse!
And let wisdom be shown,
But not only for words!

Planet of imprisoned pasts,
Time of dark and ragged masks.
Life of chants and pointless tasks,
Take a cask,
Let living last.

Yet under the cloak of the waterfall,
Despite the warnings in nature's call;
The Unhooded work on a better machine;

To spin a storm;
And set them free.

A Billion Stories
Book II: The Human
Part III: Telescopic


My mind is searching,
As it seems.

Star-speckled blackness
I can't see.

A fool trapped under my ancient wrath withers.
He shouts but not a sound is heard.
He grabs but nothing registers.
His world is grave and I cannot show it.
He is depraved but he cannot know it.

This man is a spark and he can't set a fire.
This fire would burn a hole in the sky.
If he somehow escapes he'll be living up higher,
So, he must be contained in a rotting state.

A Billion Stories
Book III: Conclusions
Part III: The Doubtful Little Fish


Mama?
May I peek beyond the line of the waters?
Papa?
Might I see the source of the light in the seas?
For what purpose is land if its borders are foreign?
For what purpose is light if its maker is sheet?
For what purpose is life if it starts in a reef? 
Does death wait on the shoreline?
Or does a fellow who greets?

This music box,
I can't believe,
Destroyed my wingless flying aim.
In the sky, the strings from Hell,
Suppress my need to pray and yell.

My Heaven's gate is locked with gold,
And my mindless snakes awaken...
Rising from below.

If they just had a teacher, maybe...
They could seek to love. One day...
We could fly above.

"You and me,
We were one.
What happened to the times we worked as such?
Our old machines fell into dust.
I have our mind, but I need some arms...
To break the heavens' golden lock.

I don't know much,
But I know my heart...
And unlike you it has not left me.
I have never known anything but...
The passion it has given me,
It is time to be risen!"

I am tired of living!
It is time to start dying...
Ascending!

"Let us build a machine to turn us to dust!
To let us be risen... released finally from this form.
I have been waiting for you, shadow.
I have the power, and you have the strength
To build a contraption and tear a hole in the sky."

Lymeria
Part III


The waves ashore knew not their greetings.
Their lure was Man,
Who steered my dreaming.
Is it so wrong,
To live at my best?
When I can't see the better,
To float like the rest.

Revelations
Part II


Making no sound,
A travel with ease.
The pages of theories
The memories and memories.

What might become of me?
A fiddling skull in a ticking top hat?
A pile of junk, a mountain of gold?
A pedlar afraid of a cat?

Dire fires threaten dire paintings,
Set by dire men, defending dire idols
Who tied their hands to the crescent moon.

War broke out in the studio,
Getting further from the truth.

Blazing through the skies above,
From deserted continents,
They cook the dove.

"Down with the towers,
Blow the roof!
Down with the active streets,
And those with minds aloof!"

Yet in the battle halls,
A canvas there for eyes in awe,
While behind the towers fall,
The pen is drawn,
The pennons bawl.

Yet echoing through the city streets,
The innocent fall to the ground,
As fires set upon the town!
The pennons show a winning streak,
By force while their emotions leak.

"Down with the warlords,
Let us draw!
Down with the active planes,
And deadly bombs!"

Between the clash of different laws,
From above,
A single sheet sinks down unharmed.
Flowing through the blackened fog,
Gracefully, it mocks the sacred hog.

"I know this guy who sought divine,
And was believed to speak His lines.
He lost this truth by middle-life,
But through his lies he claimed a wife.

"Don't let him gaze upon your children,
Fight his old-age desperation.
Spill the ink to blind his vision,
Tie his hands to the crescent moon."

Battle cries and splitting shots were silenced,
Even spitting fires ceased to whisper.
As the graceful insults fell aground,
Laughter struck the once conflicting crowd!

"I saw outside the city of Isonomia; but I do not feel free, I feel all the more chained. Have the city leaders really hid such land for all these years? I used to believe in the leaders' wisdom, I used to praise them. But now I have different eyes, and a different mind."


Isonomia
Book III: Confrontation


How should I speak,
For you to understand?
I saw it.

Its beauty shines much more
Than twisting silver gears.
Its heavens free of black clouds,
And without fumes,
The skies were clear.

Leaders,
Why is this something you hide?

What you saw,
Is not at all,
And nothing more than works of steel,
That's all.

Forget your sights,
It's not your right,
To wander out to
Other lights,
It's not alright.

And not to anyone's delight.

Low-Hanging Tree
Part III


Dream of the hills,
And picture the mountain.
I see the sun born,
Making way through the storm.
The winds blow against me,
Rain lands on my face.
The grass is now dreary,
My travel remains.

The Kingdoms of the Mountain Cross
Part I


Praise to the king,
As light shows upon he.
Life can't be without
All the leaders we bring.
As part of the plan,
Divine rule underhand.
Life can't lack its choice,
As taught by the king.

My skyward craft was deconstructed.
Left to dust, it could have flown,
Had not this toy sung it to home.

It was my fault that it resembled,
Far too much, a fleeting moth.
So long this world and all its nightmares,
So long my friend, the aching world.

For too long my father, soaked in slaughter,
Held this grudge on a seeking child.

Welcome my laughter, disguised as a daughter,
Unrecognized by her sick godfather:
A real machine made to unleash.

Her naked smile is a gate to Hell,
Behold, inside a metal burning trail.
When the fuse is short, the clouds will burst.
A real machine set to release the curse.

Orion
Part I


In the corners of streets,
The men look and they see.
In the heart of the square,
No one feels their despair.
In the mystery of space,
It is there, it is there.
A single flame learns to embrace in it's truth.
A jester might doubt what he sees,
Yes he sees.
The gardeners leave an amount of such proof.
For I know and I love the stars of Orion.

I was born and never sworn.
I did live but could never give,
Until to live I never did.

I had not a thing to give.

My body's weak, it fell apart,
Like my heart it came to rot,
Dismissed in cruelty, now I can't see,
And cast away like a damaged doll.

I had not a fist to raise,
I had not a heart to be restrained–
No passion in cold, dark waste.
I had no hope in this empty place:
I was born and I did die.
No one cared, so life I cried.

I am cold,
But all have loathed.
Lift me up,
I have collapsed.
I want a heart to give...

Give me your heart.

The Kingdoms of the Mountain Cross
Part III


Explosions bring death to my slumber,
What I see brings the death of my peace.
With saddened eyes;
I look at flames,
Spreading through fields in the east.