Tame a little vestige of flame,
Afraid, you hide your shame.

The truer it is, the more wrong you are.
Out of place, out of shape,
melodies catering to distaste.

Brittle glass, like wasted hope,
Orchestrating a washed up trope.

Cover it up, ***** it out.
Tiny spark of true self,
Left to linger, by yourself.

Do me a favor, strike your lighter,
Give me your soul, your fire.

Inhale the dancing fog,
Chase your tail, you dog.
Do another lap, don't be a slob.

Blur your brain into eternity,
Shackle your mind without disparity.

Draw the gray curtain over your eyes,
Emerald, amber, chestnut?
Does it matter if I forget or not?

Hold it down until it burns,
One more time before my heart unfurls.

Exhale your feelings like fireflies,
Watch them how they settle down.
Deep inside I can do no wrong.

Lipstick stains my shirt,
red like a speck of blood
smells of amber and wood.

Figurative like a dagger’s point.
A swift, preemptive approach,
a  faithful sinner’s broach.

Punctured mind, drained,
red wine numbs me to faint
relentless, battering pain.

You are dropped off at a shady part of town,
neon lights surround you, they are cascading,
you don’t know where to go, you are their clown.
a briefcase in your ****** hand, fascinating
how easy it is to slip and fall, graceful landing its not.

Masterful plans in motion, gearing up for promotion,
Handouts for the lost souls wandering the streets of devotion.
Wage slaves, suit and tie, tight rubber band and an injection.

Your little baggage is ticking, tick-tock.
Run for your life through dirt ridden alleyways,
Closing doors of sanity behind a tight lock,
See the faceless amalgamation of people, life finds a way.
Finds a way, to take your last breath away.

Your lust for carnal pleasures is a weakness,
This blade that cuts the thread of passion is your mistress.
Your body will reject your non-organic heart, don’t stress.

A message to the past and the future
not for the faint of heart, crass.
A lonely whisky bottle made for rapture
now floating towards capture

enraptured for the cycle of life.
Cyclical and lyrical mysticism,
lyricists binding ciphers, skinning with a knife
ride through a maze with the pied piper, don’t fight.

We idolize with holy reverence what a reference,
follow around with perseverance and benevolence.
I got a secret for you that might kick up some dirt,
But, hush, don’t get too constipated ’*** this might hurt,
Listen, here is the deal:

Head towards your following,
amass your biblical seal,
but you’ll get knocked down with zeal,
and you’ll feel the loving embrace of fear!

Cyclical and lyrical mysticism,
lyricists binding ciphers, skinning with a knife
ride through a maze with the pied piper, don’t fight.

A neon light, ad-libbed prison
laced with a hint of acrillyc poison
hiding within the booming echo.
the echo of a million memos.
Memories of still beating hearts,
realizing you've played your cards.

Shades of infinite colors
stopping all your motor
functions, like a good night's kiss
made with a lethal dose of bliss.
Clicking Glock in an alleyway,
Ticking clock in a hazy sway.

Breathe life into my soul,
Animate me like a doll,
Use those strings as you wish,
Move me around on a whim.

Display this tale for the audience,
It is quite hale, what a rowdy dance.

Bitter tasting, spilt alcohol,
Dropping you like etanol.
Like an unfinished stitch,
leaves you with an itch.

Look at the display this doll shows,
What a laughing stock it sows.

Far from me to judge,
but you are quite the fudge.
It is time to take over,
this show's over.

Now the attention is on me,
audience wide-eyed so it must be.
I will now take what is fine,
Your soul is forfeit, just like mine.

A faint echo of the rain
Leaving the streets in pain,
Gradually calming calamity,
Lonely streets of sanctity.

Upon a rusted sewer grate
He lies, a broken waste.
Broken without sobriety,
Addicted to the melody.

The melody of the rain,
Elaborate, fervent dancing,
Mesmerizing bringer of rust.

A kaleidoscope of street lights,
Waylaid by the rain's knights.
Puddles of crystal clear sight,
Markers of an addict's delight.

The thumping of machinery,
A means to an end for humanity
Transport me to your city,
Bloated with delight and pity.

She had a mirror with a fluorescent scar,
A tiny fraction of her mind displayed on a star.
She was scared and confused like no other,
wishing she could see her mother.

Putrid air in a damp alley, fuming angrily
Hilrien hurry, stake's on your vitality.
City streets near highways of lethality,
Abandoned corners on her mind's vast mentality.

She searched high and low with a broken mirror in tow.
Called out many a times, only to be met with a no.
Hilrien slow down, your heart is aching, surely you most know.
Listen, obey and hear the cacophony of your mind's woe.

She screams refusal, it echoes through the halls,
Reverberating through her soul's walls.
Hilrien had a mirror and a heart, presented with a call
Displayed for all to see, on a vast white shawl.

Hilrien has a mirror and a blank stare,
she is dancing in her past without a care.
Resigned in a pool of emptiness with a heart case
Wishing she had a purpose to chase.

You know how, when you try to break free
you just end up bouncing back,
like a feeling that your soul lacks.

Or when you concentrate and try to keep it straight
you just end up with an out of world breakdown,
the kaleidoscope reels in and you see yourself fading.

Your mind racing on the track of self loathing,
a depressive state run by corrupt suits, officially
Have you ever tried them on? I doubt they'll suit.

Crystal clear water is your prison and your dreams are your poison.
You can see everything but dare to touch and pull,
and you'll wake up reeling back down like a gull.

There is fire in your eyes, and it burns brighter than the stars.
When the darkness takes hold of you, keep this in mind,
Force them open even if it hurts to see every particle of dust,
Dust that remains after the world had collapsed on itself from the rust.
A conconction brewed with hate and spite, spiced with delicate ignorance.

Martyrs cry out in the night,
their souls bleed open from their porous dedication
and with every propelled echoing boom,
a precious life is taken without hesitation.

Every breath you take is an expression of willpower,
so inhale deep and shout.
The more they push on, the more you will pull.
When they grow restless, you will become steadfast.

The sound of a thousand voices permeates their silent bubble,
the lighting crackles with the power of a relentless spirit
An ode to freedom, one that we shall forever sing,
The people will rise up like the flora in spring.

I've been meaning to tell you something.
your soul has me drifting on this endless ocean,
on a dingy boat that I fabricated this morning.
Now this boat is filled with memories, I come clean.
They are heavy and like anchors they push as hard as they can.

As this is happening and as I try to keep it afloat,
in another time and place where the pews have been set straight,
two wandering souls find each other and connect with a starry ring.

Back on my watery path, I grow restless and fear the end is close,
for my boat is just a meager traveling companion, silent and helpless.
Your hair, those beatiful locks they aim to mess up my sail, defenseless.
A pair of stunning emerald eyes shine bright on the horizon, another jest,
for my vision is blurred even more, the sun is now a respite for my weary eye.

Their paired souls fly high, carefree and joyful,
Even when their eyes are closed they find their path true.

The waves that I encounter are few but they are strong,
their pattern and their tread is graceful,
they all remind me of my anchors on the boat.
With that I shift my focus on something else,
An answer to this mess that I made for myself.

A serene voice comes to my mind, its yours.
Followed by your laughter and your valuable thoughts.
I remember all that you shared with me, pieces of your soul.
Ideals and views, feelings and dreams, they shine brighter than stars, I see.

These memories are not anchors, no, they are different and so much more.
I know what to do and this boat is not so hopeless anymore.
I embrace these one by one, and your hair on my sail is now patching up those holes.
Your eyes on the horizon, they show me the way, lead me to land.
And your voice and thoughts now give me reason to look to my past.

You wake in a cold sweat,
Alone with the grip of your past.
Your vision is blurred by tiny needles,
A lonely street lamp shines its light heedless.

The twisting noise of the city piercing your ear,
Interrupting the brief rest you hold so dear.
This respite they pushed away now punctuated by a sharp horn.
Thousand voices and a thousand footsteps, a glaring shopwindow of scorn.

As you look past the glamour of the city,
You see a thousand tiny souls flickering for amity.
Hiding behind hardened stares, and holstered gunfire,
Expensive high-life and luxurious privilege.

If this is what it means to make it, so be it.
A line to stop at and take a step back.
Fighting for something that is so grossly transparent,
Means to an end, something that has no merit.
The shadows give you comfort, a freedom you'll never forget.

"BTL crash"

You don't remember entering the building, but its shaking
and this dancefloor is now your life in binding.
Every last one of your senses is bombarded, a kaleidoscope
a hyper travel through your present and your future.

Colors endlessly shifting, space and time distorted,
you can feel its grip on your arm, a sour tasting pill.
A wayward thing, just like her perfume, a pure sense
Hundreds of them reminding you that they are now someone else.

It cannot be for long however, for the stars are aligned,
this is the only hour of your life, the best one presented.
A familiar scent strikes you and the colors bleed from the scene,
They form a river of blood red path through your eyes.

As the beat picks up you feel your thoughts drifting,
you can see your mind, your tongue twisting.
The words are formed but they unintelligible, no matter
for she is the only one, always so understanding.

You are loved and you two are inseperable yet again.
A bastion among the unknown crowd, a familiar face to trust.
You feel the short burst of joy course through your veins,
but short as it is, it ends with the beat's last blast

You come crashing down, sudden and fast,
Every dancer now moves in unison, the lights can talk,
You hug her tight, but still feel the force applied
The lungs melt, the muscles tighten, you lose control.

You come crashing down, painful and hopeless,
Every shape loses its composure as you fall through life.
Her voice is not with you anymore, the stars are supernovas.
You fall alone among the crowd, and you hit a grime covered ground.

Do you ever think about running away?
Giving up the fight and leaving the shadows?
It's a gravitational pull that makes you dull.
A neon light flickering for life.

The part of the city in which you do not want to get lost,
Grey eyes stare at you as you walk past Overtime Avenue,
With hunched backs they go about their collection assignment.
As the rain starts to fall it carries the smell of the city's collective soul.

You step over others' past as you walk down the street, you wince.
A burnt cigarette on the side of the road, a half empty cup's dying steam dance.
As you look straight ahead, you take in the desperate vibrant colors,
an extreme contrast meant to mask and blur their fading smile into a twisted grin.

I would scream and I would shout, if I could.
My lungs would break my throat would burn out.
The mirror on the dazzling night sky is silent this time.
It vowed it would be, the day I said I would not.

However I am silent all the same, and I've no more to give.
My soul is spent, the childlike wonder, the reason to laugh.
As I lay on the wet grass in the upside down forest,
I fall through the trees and I merge with the rest.

I stand up tall as I float in the air, just like it was meant to be.
And when I look to the sky for the last time, with weary eyes
I remember all the wonders its canvas held in another era of our kind.
Its paint is now dry and old, but you can still see how those tales were told.

With gorgeous colors applied through graceful lines, vivid movements in your mind.
You need not look to the sky, just hold this canvas close to your heart.
See that shading and that carefully painted figure with the luminescent eyes?
Look to the details that you really do hold close to your life.

It was the brightest of days
calm and empowering in many ways,
but it was short lived indeed,
taken away when you are most in need.

Soon, it will journey away and leave this land
So I grab onto what I can and hold it tight in my hand.
As my knuckles turn white I hear the desperation in my voice,
I shout and whisper: Do not let me fly too close.

It was the darkest of nights that I embraced
Not for the shadows, but for the memory of your grace.
What we cannot see and understand we might fear,
But the night has memories that I hold dear.

The rising sun dances with the shadows,
And the world twists itself anew from its hollows.
My eyes ache as I peer into its gaze,
It whispers and it shouts: Do not let me fade.