It's hard to forget something like that
It's hard to seal away that moment in time.
To look someone straight in the eyes,
And to understand.
It's profundity leaving you dumb.
Thoughts circling down the drain,
Rushing across your skin.
It's hard to not understand
That energy
To devalue it's intensity.

Fanged beasts turn their heads again
They sink their venom inside me
They thrive on this feast
Their venom flows through this body
Forcing me to rebuild myself in stone
I created these beasts
So leave me and the beasts alone
I'll destroy them all....

Open their skulls.

Blue cascade pours down
Bathes the soul in purity
Water flows past rocks.

Every stumble
Every heartache
Every pain
Every frustration
Every disappointment
Every aspect of waking in the morning
With the repulsive taste of gall in my mouth
Leads me to a forest of bleakness
Builds inside of me a bastion of insouciance
That protects me from the bitter barbs
Of emotional constraints
That prevent me from drowning my mind
In the empty void of null
This flesh is a prison for my mind
Let me destroy it.
Let it become nurturing soil.

Today's the day my friend
Today's the day
I see parts of myself
Disappear with you...
Today...
I see these shards
Crystalline fragments glimmer so vividly
As they fall into so many moments of time.
I am left to pick up the pieces,
Knowing they are part of something I can never repair.
Today, the only things I care about are yesterdays...
Because those were the only times that I could touch you.
That was the only time I could look you in the eye,
And bear witness to the gaze of a true friend.
I remember those whispers
I try to understand what you said

Stay here.
Melt.
Your body's aroma a fetid aura of self gratification, for null.
Compulsory movements towards recompense as a reward for...
What?
For melting. For rotting. For the day to day grind.
For this post-industrial nightmare
That has found a home in your apperception.
It is wrong to write the song.
It has already been written for you.
Stay here.
Melt.
It is wrong to be strong.

The old man looks into a child’s eyes
His fingers stretch over the cold trigger
There is a hint of sadness in his eyes

To a certain extent he is glad
Why is more than he can figure
The old man looks into a child’s eyes

That was all he had
To be happy like a child when sadness would linger
There is a hint of sadness in his eyes

The gun is loaded, he feels anger and fear
As the trigger will not buckle under his finger
The old man looks into a child’s eyes

There is a sad detail I see here
There are no bullets in the chamber, yet the persistence lingers
There is a hint of sadness in his eyes.

If there was a bullet to be had, perhaps he could be a little happier
To move on from this forgotten memoir, to finally pull the trigger
The old man looks into a child’s eyes
There is a hint of sadness in his face.