The truth is much harsher when it is out of the blue
but then it isn't really out of the blue, is it?
Lingering, hovering, nagging, gnawing
at the back of my mind,
fingers just of it's reach.
Each time it would come close to the surface
I would glimpse at its purpose,
only to get nervous and kick it back away.
So I may stay oblivious to it just a little longer.
I knew this to be the lull before the storm
And now the horrid truth has pull the storm in to my orbit
Full of lightening, but what is its target?
Great flashes of light burns through the night
leaving heaps of ashes among the trash.
I remain unhurt, undamaged, unburned.
Others haven't faired so well.
Feared the flash and rightly so
Their pain stains the ground in the form of ashes.
Ashes and dust stains everywhere, even in the heaviest of rain
A reminder. Of what's to come. What's to be returned.
And I -
I watch it all.
The Writting on the Wall on the ground.
I might be unburned but such a sight
unhinges me something terrible
Prys me open just enough to cry.
Pouring tears lost in the roaring rain.
But crying all the same.
Because I don't know why it's you.
I don't know why you have to die.
Dodging lightening all your life until now a streak is lodged in you.
Breaks and splinters inside tightening its hold.
Even though you are burning up, I have never seen you look so cold.
I wish it was one of your famous poker faces
Tricking us you are going to fold
but at the last minute revealing a hiden ace.
If ever there was a time to play your ace, it is today.
Don't let this be our last game
But you have no control over it do you?
Have to deal with the cards that has been delt.
I must admit, these cards are ****.
No aces to play but that won't stop you
You'll play till the end with the same grace you've always had.
So for now lets keep playing.
We still have time, we've always had time
You are not ashes, yet.
And when that last flash does occur
Then I will say goodbye
And in the morning cry all the more
Mourning you and everything you were.

i taste the morning
bitter words left on the bottle
as the wine i carelessly dropped
trickled down the back of my throat
tickled with the scent of your sigh
as you moaned philosophies into my mind.

By Arcassin Burnham

Like the tiniest insect,
He looks down on us all,
Bottles , cloths and gasoline,
Lets make it work til fall,
Inevitably taken by beautiful music,
The next morning waking up,
With deep cuts and bruises,
Will leave you feeling stuck,
We're honored by the life we choose,
Stuck in a house of murders,
That you never want to relive,
I can't get through to you,
If you pop this pill,
Gotta get out of what you going through.

Denying stigma of bided truth
You're still breathing, this is proof
Stagnant lies with poignant breaths
You chose this fate
You created this mess

Denying truth will only make you bided
No matter how fluctuated life is
Circles of contempt will never end

Spiralling to the eminent truth
You'll be stuck in this loop hole
Repetitions of remorse will tire you out
It's never too late if you just shout

Shout for forgiveness
Shout for compassion
The fallen you condemned
The innocent you slaughtered

The devil always waiting by the gate
The time when the angels die
That's when you realized it's too late


Erennwrites