My strength has gone,
My soul has perished,
I lost my home,
The Light was vanquished.
Dystrophic sounds,
The brutal cacophony
Of silence and longing,
It's a bludgeoned symphany.
-
Caressing the cheek,
Fingers through her hair,
Smiling subtlely,
Then I awake without air.
The wind eats at each bone
The rain chills them still,
And what good is this home
Without her will?
The imagination runs wild
With dreams of perfection,
The qualities of flaws,
The insurrection.
Grieving turmoil and, alas, it has,
Been determined to happen as fast,
It creeps along its vertices,
Stoking fire of improbability,
Fending for myself, alone,
It seems to me I must here drone,
Wasting away every single chance,
To break free of a pallid trance,
I've always escaped my heart of thoughts,
I've always ended what all have brought,
I've always ended what songs she sings,
I've always brought about suffering,
I've always snuffed my last candle-light
I've always gripped the ledge too tight,
I've always choked the life from myself,
I've always drowned my sorrows in Hell,
I've always heard of my downfall,
I've always scorned the love in all,
I've always been plagued with bitter hate,
Although,
I'll always hate love, and love it still,
I'll always wish for someone until...
I'll always lust for something great
I'll always rush for my own fate,
I'll always need the hand to hold,
Whatever in my life may happen in the cold.

The River was dredged in multitudes,
A shadow of foreshadowing,
Against the mud and ichor, the servitude,
...The mass of bodies that came to floating,
Each face found lifeless, frozen genocide,
The peace in death, lost senses,
Against the tides the Moon hadn't faced,
The creeping stigmata, relentless.
Each one found their own disgrace,
The shocking scene of horror,
Left aversion in each innocent face,
Disturbed, the fishermen who found it
To be gentile in its own way,
The bloated faces rotting,
Beautiful in their decay.

Whispers are voices of solemn eyes,
They express the deepest thoughts,
Whether to onself or to another,
They express everything we are inside.
Whispers are what we feel within,
They are malicious, alarming, and suicide,
Also, they hold want, desire, and dreams,
And especially what lies therein.
Whispers themselves are secrets
Told in confidence to none,
Secrets are a paradox,
For their label, a helix of lies.
To whisper a love is to hope they hear,
However it may be heard,
Through grapevine or messenger,
Or a mutual friend’s word to steer.
To whisper your hate under muttered breath
Is to wish upon malevolence
To find the target yet soon,
And to finally quell your stifled chest.
To whisper of sadness
Is the vain thought of peace,
The endless cycle of solipsism,
Until your life does cease.

This selfless,
Godless,
Appearance of oneself;
Resistance,
Sub-sequence,
Is righteous to one’s own Hell.
Reprisal,
Derision,
Submission to the abyss;
Arrival,
A mission,
A taste of vinegar and ****.
-
Everything you know is fake.
Your mind won’t ever allow you to make,
An intelligent assertion of what is real,
You choke on what They feed you as veal,
As if this filet was the most prime cut,
You even thank Them for what They’ve done.
They’ve given us “freedom” and so much “wealth”
They have, of course, “NEVER” helped Themself.
To dip into Their own Piggy-Bank,
Their bacon-greased fingers drawing a “blank”.
-
What have They done? What do you really know?
-
As far as it goes, there is no such thing as “freedom” or “wealth”,
A man made concept, excused as “help”
And as far as it goes of Their accepted “help”,
Just know that They have butchered our very health.
-
They’ve bombed Their own ships,
Destroyed Their own buildings,
To inspire you to fear,
To inspire misguided hateful feelings.
-
The people They **** every single day
Are not what you would right now expect,
It is not the war over the ocean and waves,
It is here that They attack.
-
Men who run financial institutions
Take from Their companies in dissolution,
Given help from Their own evil friends,
These men claim to own, and conspire again.
The word “greed” is but to low a word to give means,
To these grotesque difuckingsgusting “human” beings,
They take and take and tell us to consume,
That’s all we are, scent to the fume,
The growing pyre of our country’s scaffold,
The base, in ashes, is burning tenfold,
Soon it will fall, and what They fear will come,
And I swear I will help see Them undone.
-
Open your eyes, Open your mind.
Race is Irrelevant.
Sexuality is Irrelevant.
Religion is Irrelevant.
Lifestyles are Irrelevant.
We are wolves ruled by snakeheaded sheep,
Brothers and Sisters, we will make Them weep.
-
Coming Together,
We Will Not Fall.
We Will Not Falter.
We Will Not Fail.
Lay Sacrifice to this Altar.
-
It will soon come,
And we will rise,
We will bring light,
To Their truth, despised.

A newborn, awaiting, decrepit, and rotting,
His mother waits for him to stir,
Her eyes emotionless and defensive,
Her dismal namesake will not return.
-
She gazes at his chest, hoping that his breast
Would return to a timelike rythm,
Alas, he is dead, putrified in his bed,
Arms outstretched to a broken woman.
She quietly gasps and inhales sobs,
While her tiny one stares at nothing,
Exhuming her fear of each and every tear,
She desperately clings on to something.
-
She could not stop this folly,
This tragedy entombed in holly.
The umbilical noose, too tight
She held on too strong,
He tried to fight along,
Unknowingly suffocating in her embrace, slight.
After his movement was stifled,
She peered over to the rifle,
That sat to protect the two of them,
She thought and was consumed,
With visions of Hell, and torture too,
She chanced it with an undying stem.
-
To paint a scene in words,
To describe the horror heard,
By no one when no one was there…
What is the magnitude of ******?
What lines are crossed to massacre?
And foretelling the wise ones fair.
-
In the end she sat in a rocking-bend,
The chair that carried him off to sleep,
He now lay in his cradle with sodden eyes,
Weary of counting so many sheep.
She had the sawn-off in her right hand,
The wall behind her, a portrait of her brains,
Half her face bereft of her body,
The white walls now hold crimson stains.
The infant’s hand lay through the gate,
As if even in death telling his mother “don’t do it”
The insignificant ominous one
Had lead her then right to it.
Her mouth agape, and jaw five feet from her,
Her right eye rolled back in the skull,
The blue baby seemed to look on in dead horror,
As his body witnessed in full.
The shotgun blast so strong and centered,
The power rocked her chair back and forth,
This creaking moan was all to be heard,
In this silent room forevermore.

As I trudge upon the path

with vigor and conviction

I stumble upon a small headstone

with the faintest chiseled inscription

-

“Here lies a man with wrath in his heart,

He knew not love or those who gave it

He said life was just a stupid game

for those moronic enough to play it”

-

As I ponder this enigma

this brilliant man and his morbid stigma

I regret I hadn’t met this man

yet I felt as if I’d known him,

a glorious eerie feeling creeps over my spine

and commands me to adore him.

-

It seems I should annihilate

what those seem to exsacerbate

and then I should come and create

what those seem to procrastinate.

-

I’ll destroy what’s highly regarded,

starting here in this casket garden,

take a hammer to this sepulcher,

the to society, the bleeding ulcer,

-

It will never end until I’ve infected

All of those who’d have me corrected,

and I will never stop believing

what my heart is always grieving.

This suicidal society

is one giant ******* commodity.

-

And as I trudge along the path

with elevated vigor and conviction

the corpse garden’s sweet song of silence

rocks me into submission.

-

As I dream this beautiful, dreadful dream,

I am calmed by this sensation:

There will come a time when I rest here,

but until then,

I fight damnation.

To wish, to wish,
To dream a dream,
To writhe in nightmares of the obscene,
To ask, to know, to whisper, to scream,
The Waters of Regret, with tears, it teems.
The Night has vanquished the Softening Light,
The mind and heart, as one, in flight,
They try to spread their wings but unfold
Blackened remains of dreams so bold.
Skeletal and frail, they represent
The nothingness, the loss and lament,
They creak as they move in their fragility,
They yearn to wander eternally,
It happens that I do, indeed, readily
disagree fullheartedly,
With Love and its "virility".
Happiness is a virtue, a privilege,
Not a tome, a text, or pledge,
It holds steady in the worst of winds,
A Northern ship in the tides and spins,
The pitch and yaw of each barrage,
Makes one wish for camouflage,
From life, from loss, from all heartache,
All who I know regret me, their mistake.
Be at peace, I'm at peace,
It's the rest I need,
I try and remember when you were happy

Recording that of which time was spent,
It must be stated with some lament,
Mankind was never prepared for that
Which they saught so vehemently sat,
Upon the throne of their own faults,
Theology differentiated by default,
And by which we would derive
The definition of demise.
-
Annihilate me through my own inner goals,
And press upon my morals once told,
To keep my kin so lively and free,
Rid them of their depraved disease,
The freedoms and liberties of once passed down,
Caress the minds of a generation endowed,
Subject to sin and objectification,
Of an overly popular, judgmental nation,
An internal strife "To thineself always be true"
Yet knowing not what realties imbue,
Distressed, ingested ideals are formed
And peaceful requisitions are abhorred,
Selection is distraught and vague,
Left frustrated are those who live for today,
I must comment, request, and repent
That in honor of life, meaning is spent,
Lifeless are we, all left longing,
Know that in this life, there is nothing.

There is a dark musk in the air,

the breeze in my lungs explode with despair,

a remark of my tribulation,

my forlorn, eternal damnation,

the burden of my affliction,

my relinquish, my submission,

my loss, my plague,

this abandonment, vague.

-

The hour approaches where I renounce histrionics,

this ridiculous existence, shallow and ironic,

-

as I slash through these weeds,

I become ever weary,

trying to grow soon-to-bloom seeds,

I can’t conceive clearly,

what I had set out to do first,

yet I encounter pain, and wish for rebirth.

-

I look upon obscurely scribed lines

and take them as commands

and as I gaze up

I realize I have failed to meet their demands.

-

the blood on my hands, and in my thoughts,

the bodies in my mind, turn to be naught

to  frequently miscarry and meet with disaster,

just to be in the shadow of another caster,

makes one wish for eternal rest faster.

-

a prisoner an only go so long,

before hating his cell,

ask for another,

and hate the most recent still.

-

yet I yearn, yet I crave

for the love of another and better days

-

all the while, forsaken stress

consumes me blind

how can it be possible

when I again fail to find

that which I seek, ever so

and continue to be, ever alone,

although those who speak of which they know nothing of

will one day find themselves answering above,

-

I find myself fallen and broken

with no trace I had slipped

no one to me my answer spoken

without as much as a quip

so shall it be, so shall it stay,

I will arbitrarily search for the light of day,

i honor perseverance, and my vigil stays,

As I seek, need and want, the light of day.

And why is it that with every sip of bourbon
I gaze into your eyes?
How can it be that I smell your perfume everywhere?
What sense does it make that I see your face in my dreams?
I have not seen you in so long yet almost every thought I have reverts to you....
Though I do not complain,
Somehow it causes pain
To see all yearn, no gain, from seeming I'm insane,
I awake with your kiss on my lips,
For false dreams and hopes, your memory sticks,
What's worse, is that we converse with quips
Of how it may have been, yet is,
You sway as the ocean's tide at dawn,
When beautiful sunlight crest's its yawn,
As innocent as a devout deer's fawn,
Yet your guile does show its brawn,
Your vision to me in dreams is steady,
Stagnant at night while my heart grows heavy,
If only you knew, if only I'd say
That the warmth for you yet grows each day,
Each moment that passes craves detention,
Respect for all my admiration,
Betwixt your legs and arms' invention,
I pray to spend each night's volition.
Of all the words in my graspable language,
You escape all knowledge of my brain's sanguine,
And of all the things I could say and do,
The plainest and strongest, I Love You.

Sing now, for years I've given
To a prophetless religion
Of "loss" of "love" and sickening
Wretched abuse of misery.
-
God of the heartache,
Won't you hear my overture?
Torment has become my heart,
Existence be my pain!
Create a wandering wonder,
Of sounds and intricacies,
Turned to ignorant folly,
All logic holds dismembered seas.
Creature inside me,
Won't you rip out my heartsrings?
Boil them in bilgewater,
And finally free me?
To a world so defiled,
Won't we pray for another plague?
Irradicate the "innocent"
And self-hallowed in their name.
Longing and lost entrails,
Of a muddied buried tribe,
The body seeks its insides,
The backbone it can't find.
Fretfull and apparent
That love lost is better found,
Then dragging forth in sulfurous folly,
And losing touch with all sound.
Run, Charlatan, Run,
Your mistakes will claim your fret,
In the ending, fun at last,
I'll massacre you yet.
Overture of Torment,
The only thing I hear,
All Is Lost In Our Sad Lives,
I Will Feed On Their Veril Fear.

The venom in my words is acid

as I look at the lake, so placid

I gander at the bodies floating,

their rotting corpses decomposing,

synergy of death and life,

their faces contorted,

expressions of strife,

Their dead eyes meet mine in search of a blessing

like that of which I could care less of caressing

-

although I hear them clear as day,

their ears are deaf to what I say

It truly is a pitiful shame,

those who Azrael never did claim.

only they know what they’ve done,

their mouths are stitched, they’ll tell no one.

as they rot, their minds will burn,

silently screaming what they most yearn.

-

Though on the minds of some, they creep,

Their lamenting screams lull me to sleep.

and as I drift off, my words are acid,

as I smile and gaze upon the dead lake,

So Placid.

Requiem, requiring writ of my chances,
I found I lost what I could have had,
She whispered sweet nothings and spied glances
That told me more than her soft words ever could,
And in that moment of realization,
My longing heart further broke and fractured.
Close as we could be, and still so far,
As cliche as it may be enacted.
The solemn silence of my triumphs,
The deafening screams of my failures,
None of this had mattered,
Because in that moment, all was perfect to me.
She walked to the music of the swansong,
With such beauty, and candor, and grace,
Her name painted on my whispering lips,
I still remember her angelic face.
I'm in love with an absentee,
And what's more, she knows all I know,
We sit as if Romeo hadn't called,
And he and Juliet just thought of what could've been.
If she were to tell me to wait,
I would until my bones shone through,
For even that is my happiness,
To recieve her love anew.

It seems as if the leader is quelling the storm,
Bringing issues alight that would, in other places, not warrant,
It seems as if the people hug and hold hands,
They sing songs, they speak highly of all and dance,
The heads remain firmly in the sand,
Objectively blind to all other lands,
It seems as if the tension has snapped to bring about
Peace and love.
-
Speak your mind, swallow a bullet.
Cooperate conglomerate, sacrifice your fears for propaganda,
Spare the rod, spoil the child,
We are owned without realization,
You can’t even begin to understand.
Youth in revolt, the government spies,
Drone strike your own and wash your hands,
We detain citizens in an act of anti-patriotic terrorism.
This is fascism with two choices every four years,
A system of fictitious democracy and flawed capitalism,
Remains upon the grounds of tribulation and false control.
The sheep control the wolves, the wolves are brainless.
Blood money and cigars that cost more than you’ve made in a year
Bring about our destruction.
We take it like a latex slave awaiting the crop,
We deserve everything we’ve been given because we’re without thought.
I’ve seen soldiers destroy innocent people,
I’ve seen politicians bought for fine dine and arrogant suits.
I’ve seen the weak die for no reason other than a gamble.
I’ve seen you all mindless watching the television.
I’ve seen the way you act as if this government owes you.
I’ve seen you not think at all.
You breathe and waist air, you continue to push
I resist the urge to exist, I can not wait to die,
“Freedom through Death”, a ******* lie,
No one has money, You only get as much freedom as you can buy.

What is dusk, but the promise of dawn?
Where all of the wrongs shall be undone,
Your love, the eternal flower of purity
Your heart, an epicenter of sincerity

-

No failure made
Where knowledge hadn’t come
A sweet serenade
Of your love behind, sung

-

The furious creature in me
By you always calmed
Your word, in my heart
True as psalms.

-

Were I growthed different
Who would I be?
I druther not think it
For shall it ne’er matter to me

-

Your tolerance
For my mistakes unknow
And your pride no matter
For How I have grown

-

When I seek silence,
When I think mineself a cur,
Feeling you with me
My creature doth pur

-

My questions ever answered
Your back never turned
When young and asleep in your loving arms,
Could not a soul me stirred.

-

So ever after and always
Will I remain here for thee,
My death only bothersome,
If I let you alone be.

Forever: it is not a word I know,

Its bounding aches, its tugging groans,

Whereof I speak, thou knowest not,

My mem’ry fleeting, forlorn and rot,

Because this is of tales of my naught,

I live on only to be here, forgot.

-

-

I have saved the life of a child who shall never know my name,

The love I had for my Love, doth she not want to feel again,

I’ve fought for allies, only to now be believed of conspiracy

I’ve liberated my beliefs, only to now be under new tyranny.

I may die any day here, perhaps with the coming sunset,

But in my name and mem’ry, a candle forgotten to be lit.

Time is mortally timeless in this solipsistic reign,

I write my tragedies knowing not a person will feel the same.

-

The ghosts of faces taunt me in my regretful sleep,

Begrudging me to hide my face from all distaste and weep,

Although this feeling flourishes in this daunting midnight air,

The daylight only brings me knowledge of my true despair.

For even my children, even if I were to have them now,

Would forget my name also, I’d be but a whisper upon a cloud.

-

I could go about this life living in the best way that I could,

If all was start over, the same mistakes I made, I would,

But it does not change the fact that no one ever my name will know,

Or remember it with time if even fondness were to grow.

For it is a curse that deaf is eternity,

To my name and quill, knowledge that this woe is me.

-

My love will be forgotten,

For woman, for warmth, for longing,

My words will be forgotten,

In ink, in music, in harmony,

My breath will be forgotten,

For I leave nothing, and nothing again,

My name will be forgotten,

Knowing this makes me insane.

-

Forever: it is a word I will never know.

Love has left and died, and it seems it always will,

I don’t deserve the music I process in my head every hour of the moon and sun.

I don’t possess the strength or skill to properly put what feelings lie in my breast on to parchment.

I cannot scribe a good enough requiem, and I certainly leave no worthy revelation.

Forget my name, and remember those worthy. Forget my work, and remember the ones that fill your heart with happiness and inspiration, for no one need look upon mine and see the struggles of someone that ne’er need complain, or deserve to.

-

It is what I hear all the hours of any of my wretched days;

The cacophony that is the choir singing hymns of me being forgotten.

This, my tomb of "solace", has not heard me stir,
For months I lay here dying upon little spoken words,
Ingratiating sadness upon what little I have left,
Forced upon a decision to return what was bereft.
-
I must make clear in present story
That I fear not God, nor Glory,
I must **** to not "feel" but "Be"
Whatever here entices me.
Pray tell, what is it that you fear most?
Your Hell, I fear, that I must host.
-
A couplet, a stanza, here and there,
About someone's false blood in air,
For fear of failure do I not agree,
At yet, I claim Death's Majesty.
For you see, I am Death's Reincarnate,
His Left Hand, His "Doom's Profligate"
-
Enchanting screams of splattering blood,
Empathetic scalpels from a figure in hood,
Fate loves the dying and Her wishes should
Bring actions closer to Her decaying brood.
I save the tears and sanguine to bathe,
The last exhale is what I crave
To hear regularly so I may sleep,
To never awake, is what I dream.

And it Was that The Holy Father created Man in his image with Adam
And as well it Was that Eve followed in the recurrent fathom.
So that balance was brought about to the world of men,
The Fallen, Son Of The Morning, leading them,
Sinned most grievously upon the Father Of The World,
That in the End, The Lord found something to be abhorred
Through many Ages and upon battlefields Heavenly and Demonic,
The Earth then found its paradise to become quite rotted,
The blood of the fallen Angelic creations
Stained so the ground, that interpretations
Failed to meet the descriptive magnitude,
To begin to scribe the crimson-red deluge.
-
What seemed to be Eternity had passed,
More than some, sick of fighting, took chance,
To live, to escape to the safety of Earth,
To baptize themselves in what once was paradise and birth,
God’s Angels and Lucifer’s commanders both
Fled to live with hope of peace and wroth
The beginnings of the end, without intent,
The destruction would result in the death of the children,
Created of Man, Angel, And Devil’s mixed seed,
The Nephilim created with all spliced genes,
Superior to Our Father’s first,
In strength, in mind, in spiritual girth,
Recorded Here are Scriptures of the last
God-like children from the past,
Describing their Parents in personal detail,
Shedding light then, on where modern day fails

I found her near a large Oak in the woods,
Not far from where that old cabin stood,
She was sputtering blood and not far from death,
I hadn't much water, but I gave her what was left,
Her eyes so weary and the purest black,
I felt heartless and wondered what her attacked,
Her wounds malicious and so very deep,
Yet she didn't convulse or even weep,
The Sun was almost rising then,
I wondered what compelled such men,
She had been, the passed night, all alone,
I knew all she wanted was Home,
And slowly her eyes went right to mine,
At that moment, I knew inside,
I watched every ounce pass from this life,
I sat there, pathetic, wondering if I could cry,
I heard her last painful and drowning breath,
She heard, like a gavel, my passing steps.

My rustic heart, desolating my carcass,

Dissolution of Hatred, denying my progress,

Laughter is slaughter, sadness is one ***** of a daughter,

Creation is a lie, the falsehoods of trust falter,

The breach of truth and likeliness,

Turn my insides and cause wretchedness,

I am everything in this world that is wrong

My Rome is burning while I fiddle my song

To my Heart that is an abattoir,

of memories and weak emotion thus far,

I **** you to the bowels of the abyss,

I will be rid of you so I can be rid of this.

Allow me to speak

Through broken teeth,

Allow me to claw

Through my broken jaw.

-

My grievous fortitude

Denies my attitude

Rejects my failures

And is my Interlude.

-

I pray to Him, my God,

and wish you here,

I ask Him every night,

But He is never there.

-

My soul is lost

In this devil’s eyes

My love for this,

with such heat, makes the seas rise.

-

I am strangled frequently

By the intestines of my intentions

My love for this melody

Was my intervention

-

My quick submission

Of life for this

was of my own volition

and love for this.

In a sense, I still love you, counting nights begone like storms
Innocence, I find wanting, it seems I wish for the worms.
-
When I have starved myself of you,
When I’ve regurgitated with every wretch,
I promise I’ll never speak your name again,
I swear I’ll let it die like a lame Spartan child.
-
I’ve become without feeling,
Callous an bereft of everything.
You wouldn’t recognize me anymore,
For I will Never be what you knew.

As quickly as the mind can fathom,

descended I into the chasm,

I am a hate-filled ****** cage,

A blade-****** creature of rage,

A tempest in the gale of Darkness,

A bloodied cruel phantasm.

from His palace, to this earth,

I have traveled and been through rebirth,

I have come to cleanse your sins,

to absolve your evil,

to **** again.

I am Azrael, The Angel of Death,

The Left Han of God, and Man’s Lament

You have displeased He who is Holier than thou

although you regret what you know,

you refuse to know how

you were and still are ignorant of the rules

That He Himself laid down

therefore you will be smitten

by the king of the clouds.

there will be no forgivenness

he has been a witness

to this pitiful world

an your wretched existence.

you will feel my scythe

as I cut you down

like worthless, fetid crops

rotting like the bodies I drown.

you will feel also my anger

at your cursed race

though He is not,

I am consumed by hate

for all of you who took this for granted,

just know I sat in the Kingdom looking down,

unable to understand it.

Now the Reckoning, the Reaper is here

and I can smell and see, even taste, your fear.

I have been sent to claim EVERYONE,

and I will not stop, rest, or sleep,

until I am done.

A vibrant, boundless beauty,
Cast against the midnight tide,
I find you most enduring
While upon the soft waves you glide.
You kissed me with some kind of freedom,
The taste of which was an awakening,
And your skin, like Eastern silk moving
Upon mine in perfect contrition.
The absence is unlike anything
That was felt any time ago,
I do find myself at times worrying,
Where will I ever go?
Unperturbed and undisturbed,
The loll of heartache and sensations,
Have rendered me now incapable,
And have turned my heart to immolation

Angel Of Love, and The greatness of God,
Hadraniel who guided Moses, to spare the rod,
Standing two full million miles tall,
Lightning produced at each syllable called,
A Keeper of the Second Heavenly Gate,
He was tricked as some Angels escaped,
If not for this instance, there might not be,
A single Nephilim in history,
Once rebuked by God for failing,
Hadraniel has since found naught worth saying,
Standing mute, a sentinel for the Bound,
He wished to scour the Earth, shake the ground,
Given the option, he would indeed,
Bring all missing Angels to their knees,
To beg forgiveness from He Who Gives,
And to seek in The Father, to yet again live.

"Every now and again, it feels as if life begins to end"
But on the rare occasion where, lost  in memory again,
I think of being young and finding comfort in the rain,
And growing up so quickly, that nothing is the same.
-
A gentle flash in mind back to those summer days,
To the sweet taste of tea, to the Mississippi waves,
I remember a hollow road betwixt Magnolia trees in bloom,
The oily green leaves, and cloudy white bulbs do my mind consume,
Walking up to school with childlike innocence in tow,
Once happy with everything, a feeling since then stowed,
I seem to recall my first best friend,
He was thirteen, I was but nine then,
I had found my first wisdomless idol,
And sorrowed life had yet to trifle,
With anything yet passed to me,
With roots like this, how could one hate everything?
The warm grass itchy with Saturday's chores,
The sun loved the shadow that I now abhor,
I miss this careless beauty right to my core,
What was once my  home, Alabama, I adore.

The soft wind yet breaks on my cheek,
Its frigidness does my heart keep,
Inside its breath and wantings weep,
I lost everything in the haze of sleep.
-
Upon a drifting willow's bark,
I spied the sights of twisting arc,
The ax that had here made its mark,
Had morosely torn the tree apart.
-
I found there that nothing may change,
Yet everything has something to gain,
The profit in sales of wilting and pain,
Has lead to self-proclaimed "insane."
-
Footprints in sand with tide washed away,
Echoes enchant the hive mind, astray
I walk only to get through wretched today,
Tomorrow holds no reason to stay.
-
Love contaminates the air I breath,
Infections break in my head and seethe
How does one follow this revolting creed?
I know not this virtue, it escapes me.
-
No folly of mine found in books of lore,
I'm not kept hero in tomes of yore,
I remember naught of all before,
And I lay down to die in the awaiting shore.
-
Bitter and relentless does my heart scorn,
That I wish to remove it and flesh betorn,
That my hopes may bring sickle to corn,
That I pray for mourning's distant morn.

Your world has come crashing down,
The sheep misguided, the flock astray,
The ice chiseled without a sound,
From your heart that is dismay.
You came to me without love,
I've broken your wings, little dove.
-
You asked me to fix you,
Broken, I attempted to fix myself,
I created a most wretched worldview,
Listening to you scream for help.
You came to me without laughter,
And I will make you suffer.
-
Engaging in whispers and deluded heresy,
You, behind my back, defied me,
I watched your passing most timely,
What became of you was revolting.
Alone I stood in what contained,
The abyss inside shall forever remain.
-
Keys to life held within stars,
A daunting vision of fabled death,
I'll destroy this sky of ours,
And become a haunting, ghastly figurehead.
All things for you held promise,
Until I butchered your vague innocence.
-
I know when your tongue lies,
It's all too familiar, my love,
I'll tie it 'round your eyes
And gaze upon it from above.
I once had love for you,
Despite what you put me through.
-
The creature inside me has awakened,
Although it never really could sleep,
You my dear, don't be mistaken,
Are the focus of it's greed.
I am what you cannot ****,
Oh, how I haunt you still.

How does one measure success?

How does one see to their progress?

Imagine a meter, a scale if you will,

that draws upon your goals fulfilled,

you may ask how it can be found,

but you alone can find this profound

tool to help yourself,

or maybe ask one trusted for their loving help,

a Father, a Mother, a Sister, or Brother,

Friends also will help one another,

but I digress, may I press on,

i lull along again anon.

-

When you first come across a thing,

a noun, a verb, some where, something,

that causes happiness derived from its action,

regardless of what form or faction,

stick with, and to, whatever it be,

remember all things come with a fee,

but the price on joy is well worth paying,

because joy is just as a child playing,

you will know over the course of this endeavor,

whether you will or won't your said success sever,

but if in years, it still brings you joy,

you will be engulfed in your own ploy,

measuring the success of whatever you will,

comes to you with whatever fills,

that which you wake for, live and breathe,

for what you might go as far as deceive,

-

Nothing is measured in paper, and coin,

or shouldn't be, rather, it should be conjoined,

with what brings you love, and no contempt to perform,

for what becomes you like a wailing storm,

that shudders the shutters of your life in a box,

what crinkles in your head like rocks,

it keeps you awake like Christmas Eve,

it is that, that your mind does crave,

into oblivion, and imagination,

a place that holds no indignation,

we feel for the things we love,

therefore it is impossible to measure it of

coin, and papers, and letters given,

to any of us, for any reason.

-

Measure it rather inside yourself,

then you will gain what you befell,

Life does have its ups and downs,

but that's no reason to run around,

aimlessly worried you'll find nothing,

of which you love, there is something,

always look for what causes you no rest,

and then perhaps you can measure your success.

Dispatched to seek out the “traitors” of High,
Michael, Archangel of the sky,
With God’s wrath in heavy tow,
Would bring about our kind to woe,
He tortured Angels and Devils alike,
Until he came to Azrael’s Scythe,
One of the most glorious battles,
Michael and Azrael had no previous quarrels,
They slashed, parried, savaged and fought,
Until such a time as a season wrought
The Snow and sadness of Death and Decay,
Azrael’s strength was abound this day,
And as the Scythe found Michael’s neck,
Michael lowered his sword, all vexed,
Afraid of his Father for his apparent failure,
Azrael began to speak of the Savior,
Who one day would save the good of Earth,
Although Angels do not share this birth,
Michael then decided to stay and in moral,
Like Azrael, protecting all of the mortals,
He chose to leave Heaven for Earth in time,
Until Gabriel was to come collecting his fine.
And in this decision, Michael hid himself from God,
So that The Father believing Michael was lost,
Wept in His glorious stead,
Thinking that His Archangel was dead,
He spoke unto the remaining Six,
He spoke and then they were convinced,
The Parents of Nephilim had struck Michael down,
It was then, Gabriel swore, he would see his brother found.

Set forth, I endlessly walked about
In search of salvation for my doubt,
I heard not once the birds in chirp,
Nor did I hear a prayer usurped,
I struggled to find a cause for all,
I found clarity in a sunken wall,
It was aside the path entangled,
So close to the edge, it nearly strangled
The sunken road upon which it lay,
But kept along those lead astray.
-
My footsteps seemed to echo on
The mass of bricks they stomped upon,
Once, I’m sure, a gorgeous red,
The bricks were grey now, neutral and dead,
Favouritism struck some paths here and there,
Popular people, families, and fare,
Though some stood alone, the weeds grown around,
Forgotten names and unsodden ground,
They hadn’t lost yet their sense of foreboding,
The lone standing pillars of remembrance, eroding.
“Food for worms…” I muttered and quoted,
Alas, the meaning, I couldn’t have doted,
For ”seizing the day” had it not meant to me,
But rather a gloomy sense of mortality,
I felt as though nothing ever mattered,
The human existence, dark and clattered
About the same misery,
We all must live, but we’ll never be free.
-
Searching out the scenery,
I, lost in thought, was scant to see,
How beautiful the day then was,
Broken down and all because
The sun didn’t seek the pavement’s shine,
The wind slightly whispered through the vine,
The grass, most dead, gently bobbed,
The light, the corrosive clouds did rob,
And it struck me in sections as to how it is,
To seek, to find, to know what love is.
-
Admiring this path, its twists and turns,
I rather likened it to Life unnerved,
It seemed as though all ends to life,
Congregated amongst all terms of strife,
Like all waterways unto the ocean,
They all met here in tumultuous commotion,
Lessons and morals could always be learned,
But this experience was what I yearned.

It just doesn't seem the same,
Yet I still look for you to blame,
I made haste laying waste
In the face, fetched silk lace,
To my own heart's melted case.
Lingering lingerie from last night's nameless stranger,
A horrible serenade when I thought your body surrendered,
I called your name when I came like I used to,
A mistake most irate, through my eyes I see you,
Every disbelieving belief in my cynical mind,
I have tried jerking off but just get close to crying,
Pathetic as it seems, a seemingless reality,
I write in paradox and ****** hope to bring to me,
The groundless belief in asinine wonder,
I think of you smiling and realize the sunder,
The corroded attempts of finding someone new,
Someone as smart, as gorgeous, as lovely as you,
I often lose sleep with a painful thought,
How long did it take to forget me?

We feel love and loss,

Rejection and failure,

Happiness and woe,

Misery and contempt,

Hatred and malice,

Melancholy, and envy.

-

These emotions have lead to war,

To plague and famine,

To ******, and deceit,

To a web of lies,

Told and despised,

To marriage, to faith,

To all things irate,

Our minds feel these emotions,

These cataclysmic commotions,

And we pretend we are sentient,

And in minds full of our regret,

We cause war, we cause peace,

Indecisive and creased.

-

We spend our time in constant moderation,

Except the crazy few in our nations,

That stand firm in their belief,

That hold not arrows, but olive leaf,

And still there are massacres,

And human made disasters.

-

The calamity of our cursed humanity,

The fact that we feel these emotions,

As the beasts that have no mind stare

Wide-eyed and dumbfounded.

-

The separation of Man and Beast,

Is the strain of putrid disease,

That we seem among us to carry,

The fact that the animal kingdom is wary,

It should show that we are bereaved,

Of every point that should be grieved.

Of every sight that should be seen,

Of everything that should have been.

There is a story of which I know,

That no happy heart would dare to go,

The chimes ring silent in the frigid wind,

And the harpsichord’s tune lowers, tightens.

-

Before my tale, I must make preface,

The tale, metaphors, rightly seek justice,

For there are no emotions quite like found here,

Life just continues, a grinding gear.

-

When the flower lost its petal,

It said “These things just happen.”

It wasn’t time, it was a crime,

To let this flower die ugly.

-

The tree has lost its apple,

The only thing that marked its beauty,

No longer can it the apple cradle,

Its brilliant seed so fruiting.

-

Think of the dark storm cloud,

That lost its rain so pure,

It likely never will be found,

This sickness has no cure.

-

The feeling burrows in your stomach,

It eats away at your heart,

It terrorizes your mind,

To know they have found another to start.

-

Though no one has ever died,

From a muscle left this broken,

I guess I should have lied

Asleep, instead be woken.

-

Bring me the silken cloth,

From my box of fragile,

It will protect this darkened stone,

And mend it back to evil.

-

Think of every time you’ve cried,

About something you could not change,

And see if you still care to know,

Why it is yourself to blame.

-

Think of every category,

that you could have mended,

All of it an allegory

To your love intended.

-

When you see the bitter face,

Of reject and spite and be hated,

Coming from your used to be

Loved, but relocated.

-

You will find yourself the virus

Of your conjoined lives,

You will never be pious

Enough for their love, despised.

-

**** everything about yourself,

It helps ease the anguish,

But keep yourself here and conscious,

So you understand true languish.

As I walk across a pathway a heartbeat's width across a floor,
A peculiar sensation finds me wanting of an explanation to adore,
Not a feeling of a feeling, I don't have those anymore,
I can rip open my chest cavity to find nothing at its core.
-
I saw a young fine thing come cantering to a score,
And in her eyes I saw reflected back my lust for gore,
I didn't think of love or courting, that I do stately implore,
I have no idea how I could have had emotion before.
-
Incurring inferences upon  deranged insanity,
I deny the charges and insist I must be free,
With my generation crawling at my likeminded feet,
I find myself unable to believe in humanity.
-
An algorithmic synapse of my mind's forward encryption,
Once brought about my failure of a heart's lonely submission,
And to this day I do wish that bitter was a real decision,
But I find something close to comfort with indifference as religion.

He softly cries until he sleeps,
tempting appeals of angels and weep,
It hurts, the pain,
Obviously, naught to gain,
Which is what is felt whenever a loss,
Of the most woeful kind can endorse,
The severed arteries to heart, and blood
Will stop flowing to it, gently flood,
The rest with gaping holes of hope,
And hope is the depressed man's hang rope
That he ties 'round his neck and prays,
That he may again see beautiful days,
And in hopes when he jumps from kicked chair,
That maybe, just maybe, he'll see her there,
With agony flowing from his eyes,
He can not help but to despise
The dreaming mind and hopeful heart
Turned to bumbling folly, and all false start,
His heart is but a mosoleum,
His mind is but an old museum,
Filled with antiquity, memories of late,
The pain always finds way to gestate,
It's cancerous spread to even make
The muscles within to quiver and ache,
It is colder here, he once noticed,
Upon bereavement of his pretty lotus,
That without her warmth caressing him at night,
He wakes every hour sniffing the air in false plight,
In false hope to find her scent there lingering,
Only To be reminded of cold nights and shivering,
Again the tears find pillow and cover,
He could not remember of times being more fonder,
He imagined it had never been,
That though never helps herein,
Especially considering the terrible ache,
Of even a wretched thought his brain make.
He is truly happy that she is better.
An injured man, he will endeavor.
He decides his time again may come,
And sudden misery will be undone,
But even if that turns to be naught,
He even then won't be distraught,
For either way, happier she'll be,
And that's what he wants most for she.

I’ve never struggled with words before,
The bending of language I do adore,
Yet each time I try to write to describe
Your effect on me my mind just dies,
My brain befuddled, hollow and weak,
Taken aback not unlike that of disease,
I get so nervous, seeming somber and wrecked,
But inside I am all that is vexed,
I want so dearly to be near to you,
I consider the distance but only a step or two,
I wait for your words to find my phone,
I sit still and stare at it when I’m alone,
I anticipate the fletched light to be shone,
I hope someday to call your heart home.

My Dear, it is incredulously
Important that I am willingly
Rendering this letter innocently,
To you, who holds my heart.
It started in the Fall,
For now seven years in all,
Even when the wind will loll,
I remember we are apart.
I used to sleep...and dream of you,
Now the nights are absent, all untrue,
The rends of tomorrow that hold no glue,
The engine is withholding.
Cohesive and all but branding,
I was ever so understanding,
Honesty was our safest landing,
From a leap so foreboding.
An empty nest, an abode so cold,
Just a house now, no one is home.
And endless bound where Nothing roams,
I am all that is longing.

I walked in to find you amongst dreams in my bed,
All else was foggy, I thought I was dead,
Without lust or worry, I slid under a sheet,
And cradled you until I fell asleep,
I held you softly, listening to each breath,
And prayed to hear you in Heaven upon my death.

As I sit here completely alone,

I ponder solemnly and wait for you,

I wait for your voice to call me home,

Waiting for you to miss me too.

Waiting for your thoughts to roam

Of me and our sweet solitude

Unless if you are now happy,

I am content in misery.

-

You, my dear, possess a skill

The fires in me burn as hot as before,

Nothing occurred here has broken my will

I just hope thy love has restored

Without you, the emptiness shall not be filled

For you, I beg upon the floor.

Unless if you are now happy,

I am content in misery.

-

I miss every breath and sound

I hope that you do as well,

To lose a love that is so profound,

I’d rather be in Hell.

There is something in you that shakes my ground

And that love you gave me befell

Unless if you are now happy,

I am content with misery.

-

These visions of memories are constant,

They are heaven in my own head,

There is something about you

That I have never felt before

I can’t help the overwhelming feeling,

That pulses through me every day

I wont let you leave my mind,

Please don’t let me fade away.

Your arrogance has

Disgraced me long enough, cur,

I Shall Forsake You.

I am crucified,

My own screams awake me, yet,

I feel no pain now.

I am the personification of man's anguish.
-
I am starving, yet every morsel clogs my throat,
I am so thirsty, but my mouth is a cotton moat,
I am alone, depressed,
Morose, repressed,
Everything I ever loved has died,
I'm not even human anymore.

There once was a desolate heart,

whose beating would never start,

But along she came

To disappear again,

In my dreams, she masters this art.

-

One day she came and smiled at me

More beautiful than the shining sea

And then in my chest,

My hopeful breast,

My heart drummed a loving creed.

-

O, to the pain I feel inside,

How I wish it would subside,

But I love the passion

I have to your faction,

Of your loss, I am petrified.

I notched the axe handle that struck her pretty head
Against thatwhich, she should have run instead,
I gagged her so the terrifying screams stifled in silent lament,
I ripped open and off the clothes that were her only guardian to me,
I bludgeoned as I entered her unconscious body,
The gurgling sound emitted were of the utmost melancholy,
The seminal fluid like plague streaming her discontent,
Fruition all knowing showed her true violence,
Compacted in a bag, I cut her into forty pieces,
I was careful with her cut-off skin to leave none creased,
I adorn my bed like Ares in myths of old,
I played and toyed until her body ran cold,
I slashed my way inside until her sordid cries did subside, terrified
Her lifeless eyes only held despise.

You will be missed, friend,

Yet your life has just begun,

You are forever.

Could I provide a stolen glance,
That would glisten off my heart,
At where I would see you in a trance,
At where my mind could fall apart.
-
You being a catalyst to the fire,
The arsonist behind my demise,
The smoke takes my thoughts ever higher,
And the flutter in my chest does rise.
-
I see you in dreamlands wandering solemn,
Betwixt a lake and a great etched stone,
You look of tales told to the fallen,
And I wonder why you are there alone.
-
Echoes of the marvelous melody,
Worth dying for so many times over,
Reverberate in the cavity,
That my chest does now dwell and cover.
-
There is nothing left of this place,
You've forgotten everything in me,
But for you my endless mind still does chase,
I wish for what could be.
-
I seek no complaint, rather I should say,
That everything may be as well as it lay
Ambiguous love and hopes in the day,
Will shatter against the stones of the bay.

I am your pain and suff’ring

I am your discontent,

I am what you must hate most,

I am irrelevant.

-

I am the truth, despised here,

I am the prophesied

I am the mind so unclear

abysmal in elegy

-

I am forever lost now

I am creation’s lie

I am the standing citadel

If only towers could cry

-

I am the gallant memory

Of dreams and warm delight,

Masochistic to myself, the enemy,

I am the death of all the kind.

-

I am lost love, and silence

I speak through severed tongue,

I am those hollow voices

That speak from among the tomb

-

I am the dawn of depression

I am the boiling sunrise

I am without my Crescent,

My Moon, my only light.

-

I am the horrible nightmare

of all destroyed and gone,

I am midnight’s breath of air

I am alone along

-

I am without emotions,

once they here, but now no more.

I am the lack of suppression

Dying inside with no remorse.

I try to mend what was broken
But these hands have failed before,
The callouses cover scars and lore,
Of a heart that once was stolen.
-
My breath, it holds no air
I find myself never refreshed,
It’s stagnant in my lungs so meshed,
Life, I’ve learned, is never fair.
-
Perpetuating this cadaverous lie,
Lingering in the depths of my thoughts,
It opens up past wounds and wrought
The stitching from healing so fine.
-
The Creation of that emotion
Causes such an anguished feel,
That one may think it’s falsely real,
Never the less, to cause comotion.
-
To think of such so frequently
The time it consumes is dreary,
Its gloom and doom make weary,
The traveler wondering aimlessly.
-
Think of me as a faded epitaph
Eroded with wind and sand,
A mourner, hat in hand,
Passes me like the black cat.
-
It goes to show what lies in reason
Of what I am now consisting,
Of thoughts I’m now resisting,
And to you, my heart is treason.

The sun did Icarus no favors
His fateful day of flight,
Inanimate or not,
Certain bodies enjoy our plight.
-
Once again, lost in
False perpetuation of “hope,”
Idyllic fantasies
That such a notion exists,
This symbiotic altruism,
Supposedly reciprocal
In its false entirety,
Is one major devastation
Among many in our evolution.
-
Giving “freely” in “good will towards man,”
Thinking to ourselves we’ll be rewarded then,
One hand offered while the other is expecting,
Trudging through miserable life without correcting
This anticommunal sentiment
Progressive aggression, breeding resent,
We stumble through life filled with **** but “good”
Swallowing lies we create, falsehood,
The never-existing pure encounters,
Justify our ****** parameters,
“Do for me, I’ll do for you”
In fear, in hate, we come unglued,
Lay blade to table and swear your life,
You’ll never surmount, be above this strife,
Inexorably determined,
Our society lives upon scraps
And ideals old men have thrown
From a tyrannical table
Made of outdated theorems
And objectified values,
Deemed “enough” for us,
And we settle in our filth
As we praise them for their charity,
Wet with anticipation,
We just wait to be privileged enough
To be in their good favor,
To provide their main course.
Our poor blind children,
Knowing nothing of their enslavement.
Lick the hand, all is well,
Die for your master, live in hell,
Survive this canvas,
Post a status.
Die for nothing.
Universally irrelevant,
Galactically meaningless,
Walk the foggy path toward
The void, culminating in
The apex of your misguided meandering,
Blinded all your life
By all variables denying your right,
Your natural freedom,
You waste of humanity.