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Astral May 2016
I sat on the edge of the rivers mouth, watching the sun set slowly behind the eyes of forever
There in the dusk a pack of coyotes approached me, they asked of my somber state
I said my sorrow was with morality, the thoughts of my death and the dismay of human suffering
One of the coyotes scarred with deep wounds from years of survival, approached me closer
He said I have been from the moutains edge of Appalachia, to the rivers of Savannah
Life is a fragile and cruel thing, our kind knows of the suffering of existing day to day
Life isn't a waterfall, it is the blink at which you do at the waters cascading down
Death is the pool which the water collects, all living things end up there
You must not ponder why, only ponder what to do next
For it will be gone human, as all things go
I merely looked and nodded a heavy sigh
The pack nodded back in unity, and carried on
And I looked back at the sun, disapperaing in the forever
So I took my heavy legs to a step, and walked from the mouth
To the limbs of Oconee, and walked to my place of rest
To ponder my next
Astral May 2016
This architecture of oppression, will begin to crumble
And will crush us all into pools of maroon, intestines spilled as leaves
Astral May 2016
I hope when we crown our court jester, to be the king of this wretched land

That he sets fire to everything standing, poisons every river

For we will have deserved it, for our years of hate and ignorance
Astral May 2016
Sickness is the laces of our words we burn into skins

Meandering like scholars in this play yard of our generational whims

We will soon have to reap what we sowed, in our irony and inactivity

All for the sake of status and hedonistic introspection
Astral Apr 2016
Staring into that foggy curtain
That drapes across the forest window
Hiding all the creatures in cloaks
Blurring all the paths with annoyance
So you must walk as a stranger
In a land made of twilight shadows
With you eyes focused to the ground
Your hands gripping at themselves
Waiting for the surprise to strike
And cut your throat in a shower of maroon
But all the while you must remanin stoic
Lest you find yourself no longer on a path
But in a maze
Astral Mar 2016
Standing on borders
Of all that is light
And off that is dark
Do you see man
Jumping across
Bleeding between two worlds
In his hand he holds bread
In his heart holds blackness
One finger to the sun
And one on a trigger
And before you can see the truth
He slips into the confusion
And we are left afraid
Astral Mar 2016
Under all the rubble, does the light still flicker from the gas lamp
A remnant of hope, that lays in the shatters of once standing prides
All that screams, is now silenced by the ash coming from the destruction
But the gas lamp still remains, waving its flag of war in bright orange and yellow
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