I lay waste to hope,
wherever I find it.
I drag it into the light,
revealing all the little flaws,
in it's design.
I set fire to happiness,
with fervor.
I love to watch,
as people's joyful little worlds,
are rendered unto ash.
For every act of human kindness,
I'll see a thousand homes destroyed.
I'll leave ten thousand quaking people,
to be consumed,
by hells most vile lords.
All shall come to know my face.
All shall come to know my name,
Despair.

Oh, the days are long,
and the nights are cold.
Maybe I'm just growing old,
but it seems to me,
that we have lost control.

We will carry on,
and play our hand.
Some will even make a stand.
And if they fall
it's all part of the plan.

I watched,
as the stars in your eyes,
dwindled.
One by one,
they burned out into emptiness.
The void consumed our universe.

I felt,
as the warmth in your touch,
turned to stone.
With every stroke,
you left frost upon my skin.
Your ice soon circulated through my veins.

I listened,
as the music in your voice,
withered toward
detachment.
Every word became a reminder.

And I tasted,
as all the sugar on your lips
and the honey on your tongue,
went sour.
Every kiss held hints of decay.

True criminal, I sold my soul and stole it back.

It was on the walk home,
from school.
A path I always took,
with slow deliberation.
That Frank sidled up to me.
"Hey man, you ever smoked bud?"
Reaching into his sock,
he produced a small bag.
"You wanna?"
That Cheshire grin.
We slipped off the road into a small pine thicket.
He shoved what I'd now refer to as,
"Bricked out Mexican grown *******,"
Into a little metal pipe.
This was no,
"I didn't get high the first time" event.
No,
I got ******* ******.
I wandered my neighborhood after,
for quite some time.
Everything was beautiful.
The colors of the trees and the houses
all burst forth!
Brilliantly vivid.
I journeyed home and came to find;
the beratement, the hate,
it rolled off
like so many drops of water.
I fell asleep listening to "No Quarter,"
for the thousandth,
but the first time.
Life never was the same,
after that.

I just can't seem to get out of my head these days,
that's why I've got a penchant for smiling, when it rains.
You don't quite see the sun when you dwell in the shade,
I've grown beyond a longing for it's warmth on my face.

Nothing's concrete, I see the grey in your white and black.
It's a paradoxical existence, much like Schrodingers' cat.
Am I dead or alive? ****, where the hell am I at that?
My thoughts zip through my head like a thousand angry gnats.

Living The Heart of Darkness things seem increasingly insane,
but I'm trapped on this twisted river, heading deep into my brain.
Maybe it's because in here, I form monsters out of pain.
To feel emotion's difficult, but monsters can be slain.

I abandoned the
accepted standard
found the edge of the map
and fell off.
The world is flat

Just how deep
does the rabbit hole
go?
We may never know
but I dove head first
into the ground.
Try and find me now

The universe is vast
but I
rearrange the planets
in a pattern more familiar
*The system can collapse