My eyes may not be kind,
Or a light happy blue.
But that is because they are tainted
By the things they've seen.
Grime and unpleasantness
Will build up.
But you can still look through broken windows,
No matter how cracked.
But that's only if there's something on the other side to see.

A sorrowful tide
Sweeps away the leaning trees
And scatters the sagging fences
The world beneath is flooded
As the clouds weep their loss
And creeping creatures scurry to
Break the surface least they lose their air.
The fury of forty days and forty nights
Is unleashed in a mere forty seconds.
And as soon as it has begun,
It ends.
The tide slides back into the sea,
The soaking sheets return to the clouds,
The worms breathe a sigh of relief.
It is over for now.

A fall is not always the end,
For when an Angel may find herself
Surrounded by irridescent showers,
She can still spread her wings and fly.

We spend all of our forsaken existence Fighting to make our mark on the world
When the truth is that nothing we do will Last in this life.
Our loved ones will die,
Our names will vanish,
Our pride will fade.
Buildings will crumble,
Legacies will fall.
But still we crawl,
Trying to make our presence felt.
I simply want to watch this world burn,
So that I can simply leave it colder,
A small smile on my lips.

Something isn't right.
There's a smoky overlay across the room.
It stretches across the sky and gathers in the corners.
It blankets the buildings and suffocates the trees.
I'm used to seeing Old Glory on every building.
But now she screams for help.
I got used to the sound of constant gunfire,
It went from being startling to reassuring.
Now the people turn on each other,
And a sociopath has been handed a red button.
Most people don't realize,
Nobody wishes more for peace than those who fight the war.

If only you knew the power you have
You never needed the depression
You've always been beautiful
I wish I could say the same

I inhale nicotine
Exhale amphetamines
And cry carcinogenic tears
But I still can't become
Numb enough not to care

He who stalks the shadows,
Avoiding sunlight.
He who breeds shadows,
A loaded guitar slung on his back.
The Man behind the mystery
Is not the picture of romance
And desire the words suggest.
I would know.
The Man is really
Little more than a boy
Trying to find his place.

The strings quake
Mournful reverberations
Echoing off the walls.
Note by note
A story is told
Until the song ends.
And the feeling lingers.

The demon king
Had much to tell
Of those that had
Twisted his actions.

They had summoned
And questioned and
Bargained and laughed
But Paimon will always
Get vengeance.

Stay true to these words
To the story they tell
Keep your mischief
Separate from magic.

If you summon Paimon
Unwary to danger
His darkness will
Swallow your soul.

These things he taught me
A young mortal pup
For to me he had
Taken a liking.

So released him I did
Fair winds he bid me
And he continues to
Bring on his mayhem.

At crossroads and crypts
In ****** and theft
The demon still marks
With his hand.

Yet I walk unfearful
To attacks born of evil
For Paimon yet walks
Our land.

I've come to the realisation
That we are all unknown,
Yet legendary.

Nightshade creeps low,
Leaves raking through the dirt.
Between the daisies and the petunias,
The roses stand tall
Until they are strangled.
Petals dance for a final few moments,
And the tendrils retract.

I've realized,
The only thing keeping me sane
Is the steady tapping of the keys
As I pour out my emotions through my fingers.
I'm cleansing myself.
Storing all of the anger,
The desperation,
The madness
In a digital medium
Where I'm hoping it's trapped forever.

It angers me,
That I can't find the words to express
The fact that I belong on a battlefield.
It's worse to realize,
That I'd hoped to die in combat all along.
But that way out is gone.

A rhythmic pounding,
one-two-three-four
Of my footfalls on the cracked stone.
I feel them close behind me,
Their breath burning the back of my neck.
A crazed grin splits my lips.
*This is what I live for.

I'm not normal.
Not your everday guy.
Not a regular Joe.
I've never hooked up.
I've never cheated.
I'm not the type to kiss and tell.
But I don't do that often either.

I'm a silent sentry,
Waiting until I'm needed.
I'm a soldier,
Looking for a war.
I'm a broken soul,
Looking for a change.
I'm a broken heart,
Looking for maintenance.

I'm always ready.
I'm never hesitant.
I'm constantly on guard.
I'm never trusting.
I'm always going to be different.
I'll never be like any of you.
That'll always be the case.
Because I'll never want to stoop to this world's level.

Life is but a chain of stops as we travel in circles,
Harvesting the heartstrings of those from our pasts,
Only to throw them in the fire when we meet our final forever.

After forever
Yet all too soon
We have forgotten
That we did not weave
The flags that we wave
We simply inherited them

A hero?
Me?
Laughable.
I've broken many things,
Hearts, bones,
Mine and theirs.
I'm a menace,
A monster.
I promise,
If you don't idealize me,
I won't save your ******* city,
And the villain can keep the girl.

It's maddening.
There's a senseless drone,
Like an audible vacuum.
It claws at my ears,
Making my head ache.
I wish the quiet wasn't so **** loud.
Because things always get worse when all I can hear is my thoughts.

Some say there's nothing to fear except fear itself.
But when we can be mentally paralyzed by the musings of a poet,
Doesn't that mean we should fear expression?

A hall of  mirrors  only serves to show our shortcomings from every angle.
After wandering for days I'll finally drop to my knees and sob;
*I asked you too ******* **** me so I wouldn't see myself this way

I've danced for so long,
Driven by the ambitions of others.
Any girl that wandered into the dusty back room,
Picked me up off of my hook
And gave me music to dance to
Was the girl I loved.
For so long,
I danced and danced,
But then I was set aside
Until discovered again.
Each time the current puppeteer grew tired of her toy,
She would drop me in a heap.
And so happened time and time again.
With each new puppeteer I changed a little more,
Until I no longer felt the need to dance.
Then, after a while of thinking,
I stoop up and walked over to a desk in the corner.
In the desk there was a drawer.
In the drawer was a knife.
And now my strings are gone.
I still dance sometimes,
But I dance by myself,
Not driven by a need to be loved.
But by a need to maintain my insanity.
This makes little sense I guess.
What do you expect?
I'm just a little wooden puppet.
With no strings,
No puppeteer,
And no hook to hang on.
Even Pinocchio got out from time to time.
But that little ******* wasn't aware of how ******* lucky he really was.

A
Few
Too
Many
Times
Have I
Lost it
Never to find it
Again
Dead
Gone

I hope it isn't
Overstepping my bounds
To intrude on your conversation.
My friend,
There is always a war
Going on somewhere.
Whether soldiers clashing,
Cannons flashing,
Or fighting our personal demons.
Even the savior himself
Was betrayed by those
He sought to help.
Humanity is always trying
To destroy itself.
It may be macabre,
But it's impossible to save
Them all.
Because in every war,
There are casualties.
And there are always
Those in the crossfire.
A stray round will always fell
A civilian or two.
Take it from someone who knows.
Don't try to save the world.
Just do your best to
Make it back alive.
And know that there are others
Fighting at your side
Watching your back.
And with their final breath,
Those that fall will be saying.
"Till death, till the end.
This we'll defend."
Hooah.

Simple language
And a ****** soul
Usually bring a darker tone.
But sometimes it can be fun.
Oh, I hope this is one of those times!

I have
Nowhere to hide.
There's a vacuum within,
And my skin is naught but mirrors,
Reflecting the world back unto itself.
People see the norm when they look at me because no real part of me breaches the surface.
It's all
consumed
and compacted,
Ever more to hold in an ever shrinking space.
I wait, wary for the day I know is coming.
When instead of compacting it expands,
Because then, nobody will be safe from what escapes.

You would never guess
The man standing next to you on the street
Revels in insanity,
Feels at home in morbidity,
And finds beauty in violence.
The world is not entirely symmetrical,
And though I'm looking in a mirror,
I do scare myself.