I know of a place,
where it only rains ash.
The sun doesn't shine,
it was swallowed en masse.
By an ominous void,
that's now stifled the grass.
I'm loathe to return,
but I'll lead you if asked.

We'll journey on over,
to death's little home.
Where graves fill the fields,
in neat little rows.
Not a songbird in sight,
just cackling crows.
Nor will flowers you see,
where the bone roses grow.

I'm the final forlorn scribe
of this desolate wasteland.
Imbibing putrid wine,
I keep a flask in my waistband.
Nothing strangles hope
like being living in dead lands;
alone I trod the globe
inscribing lines about deaths' hands.
The blatant lack of birdsong
has viciously twisted the sunrise.
Persistent existence with ghosts
has afflicted my rhymes.
They say you reap what you sow
I'm bound to ramble for miles,
scribblin dismally written scriptures
that'll scramble your **** mind.

I used to be a regular guy
got a little too drunk from time to time.
Generally, I think I was considered respectable,
at one point perhaps even socially acceptable.
However, all things must change,
even at a fast pace,
now I'm nightly downin bottles of bourbon to the face.
And it's scary, just how real it gets
I'm losing all attempts at eloquence
the second that this whiskey hits.
Nah forget it,
Just like Eve eatin the apple forbidden,
I'm livin in original sin and I dig it.
I'll keep fillin my lungs with filth and killin my kidneys
because I could give a **** if I live to see fifty

I fled from society, failed at human bonding
too fond of the Siren's song and searching
for higher calling took to lurking beneath
the surface, the silence is calming.
Tragically lost the path and got tired of wandering
so I put a spark to match set fire to the forest
and torched it to find I'd been encircled
by enemy enforcers slowly encroaching
upon my little plot of land, far from final stand,
just a part of the plan.
See this **** was specifically scripted,
a switch flips to see the paradigm shifted.
I'll have you dreaming up apocalyptic visions
of me leading legions of seething demons
who feed on the meek. Whatever fortress you seek,
I'll ******* crush it, sowing fields of decimation,
I'll water with blood from buckets. By estimation,
I'm judging you won't recover for generations.
My friend, I suggest you switch your position,
"The end is ******* nigh" and you better ******* listen.

Hello, I am the salesman,
though no solid wares I vend.
You see I've come to hock some love,
to hearts long on the mend.
They say I have a way with words,
though modest, I remain.
If you'll stop and trade your time,
you've only peace to gain.
I'll take in all your troubles friend,
these shoulders can bear the load
and if it's faith in life you've lost
I've been known to peddle hope.
So stop and start to barter,
I'll show you all the world is fine.
No worries if you're hurried now,
I can bottle joy like wine.

From a high pass in the Adirondacks,
I once gazed upon
the first tendrils of dawn,
bursting forth from hills beyond
to snake their way through
a rolling forest.
Setting it ablaze
with a magnificent rainbow of color.
Finally settling upon a small lake,
far below.
And as I watched the sun
breathe warm life into this beautiful,
secluded landscape
I thought
"She was far more alluring,
than the wonder I behold before me,
but,
At least this is a memory,
I can keep."

I can't write tonight,
but I'll force a couple lines
and hope to see revealed
all the answers I'd like to find.
I can't fight tonight,
so I'll sit here and smoke.
If I can't forget my sorrows
perhaps I can make 'em choke.
Just full of strife tonight
and all alone I wallow.
So I'll just grab another,
I'm seeking company in bottles.
I can't write tonight...

I have never allowed myself to abide
by the unfortunate misgivings of
censors and their hollow minds.
I love to abusively use the word ****,
and every time I see you with your kids,
I light one up.
Blow smoke in their ****** faces,
then I'll tell your innocent little *******
about the last time I was completely wasted.
See I'm morally opposed to all forms of censorship.
That's why I drive drunk, three stogs in my mouth
and I answer honest when your wee kiddies question it.
"Sir, what's the white powder you have upon your face?"
"That? Oh no worries my little brother
that's just a bit of *******."
At some point, I think I lost societal membership
all due to my personal policy.
Simply, **** censorship.

I know the pain you feel is deep,
your want from life is simple peace.
And though I cannot guarantee,
please listen closely, as I speak.

Presently you stroll alone,
searching for a hand to hold.
You feel your sorrow in your bones,
in harshest sun, you still feel cold.

Pre - dawn, however, is darkest night
that must be followed by morning light.
I pray you won't give up the fight,
the universe will set things right.

I know at times, it seems unclear
that happiness is always near.
But wholly I believe my dear,
someday soon, you'll find some cheer.

Couldn't even spell Camus,
you illiterate ****,
not to mention you never heard of my dudes,
Hesse and Chuck.
I've roamed expanse, of Middle Earth,
watched sun sets, from Martian perch.
You poor *******, can't comprehend
the tortured lives Of Mice and Men.
Fail to grasp the beauty
in Ray Bradburys' words
and you'll probably never know
how Dresden Germany burned.
When "Something Wicked, This Way Comes"
you'll hardly know just where to run.
As Billy P. learned "So it goes"
Soon you too, will come to know
A strange thing I have gleaned from friend,
just "Poo - tee - weet" can mark the end.

That's it,
you've let loose beast from cage.
Prepare yourself coward,
you're facing an onslaught of rage.
You cant possibly comprehend,
the ******* enemy you've made.
I'll turn your family to memory,
from the timeline they'll fade.
This is far from honored duels of old,
fought in sunlit splattered glade.
I'm a man of slick efficiency,
I'll see that you die in the shade.
Even worse I'll make it hurt,
see you leave our earth in pain.
I suggest you learn *******,
Understand that death is my name.

Every night as you eat a meal,
I solemnly sign a devils deal.
The agreement simply reads as such,
It's suicide I'll have for lunch.
And breakfast, dinner, every day.
All sustenance I've signed away.
I only hope the pain will dull,
the consequence, I shall not mull.
For the lessening of life long strife,
I'll trade the threat of ended life.
I know my sorrow will slowly pale,
for every breath of death, inhaled.
And if it's bourbon I choose for dinner,
I'm told that peace can find this sinner

You're pulling mountains out of anthills,
every pebble in your path
becomes a boulder.
And you're far from being any kind,
of lost or wayward soldier.
All the love that you have leeched,
you emphatically squander it.
And there is no "Great Weight" upon your shoulders.
That's just gravity *******,
don't over ponder it.

I'd like to make a toast to the ghosts,
settled softly on my shoulders.
Shapeless apparitions,
creating such a pressure I stagger,
with every step.
Here's to you,
the permanent parasites of my mind.
Never worry old friends.
I drink one for me,
and one for each of you.
I will let the burden,
carry me forever downward.
I will not forget that which was once flesh beside me,
now turned dust beneath my feet.
So cheers!
My ghastly ball and chain.
Pray that you rest soundly,
while yet gnawing at my brain.

I think I know,
the pain that must have come,
while fighting and dying in battles of old.
Solely from the ache in my heart.
I like to imagine,
you shoved a spear right through,
or split it's center with an axe,
cleaving it, in two.
But no,
you did more than just halve it.
You stuck the knife in,
gave it a savage twist.
Tore that wretched pump to pieces,
and then you spit,
on it.
So now I wander,
a wounded man,
no place left called home.
The only thing I'd known as such,
was the land on which you roamed.

Darling,
I'm hardly a man of impeccable character.
And lets be honest,
some of the **** I'm known to do
has probably put some doubt in you.
Yes,
I'm a drunk and I'm ******* reckless,
and, my words have never failed to cut deep,
when I feel I'm tested.
But give me a chance and you'll quickly come to learn,
I'm also a man of daring and I am a man of my word.
Yea,
occasionally I'm lacking in moral fortitude
and empathy's a feeling that I'm genuinely foreign to.
Truly though, take my hand
and I promise I will love the very ground on which you stand.
I'm fairly far from flawless, I've got some vices I adore.
Just put a little faith in me, I promise, I'll love you more.

Do not disturb,
the dog that slumbers.
Make the blunder,
be torn asunder.
Lightning strikes before the thunder.
You'll still feel it from six feet under.
And all you love,
will not recover.
From their son,
who forever slumbers.

I dreamt that I slept,
in a field full of sunshine,
near a creek that flowed slowly,
where the wind gently blew.

And I woke with a stretch,
and a sigh and a yawn
and I saw a lost angel,
with eyes, bright as jewels.

Her lips were like velvet,
her skin soft as silk
and she spoke with soft grace
her words like glass, smooth.

Well I reached for my angel,
and, this dream fell apart.
The scenery faded,
for dreamers are fools.

Drown it in whiskey,
smother it in cigarettes,
rather end it quickly
then have to live and die
with my regrets.
embracing death and
misery my innocence is
history
to me the truth
is a mystery
find life lackin
in symmetry
I hope the wronged
have forgiven me
will not tip toe
to it gingerly
just skip right to the inquiry
should I end it all now
or bring in the artillery?

In a valley dark and dead, a little lamb did lie,
he'd given up, enough's enough! And here I'll tell you why.
You see his spirit had worn away, with every fang-ed smile.
This meager sheep was born and raised, within the land of lions.

The little lamb toiled all day, he struggled to find a purpose
while everyone he'd ever known, just filed into the furnace.
He looked around at all the lines, how they carried on for miles!
But this is just the way it goes, when you're in the land, of lions.

And despite the effort he'd commit, the cycle wouldn't stop.
All hope was lost or beaten out, of his meek and wayward flock.
They'd turn their heads and softly say “We do admire your defiance,
but we're very sorry, little lamb, this is the land of lions.”

Hate man, it soaks to the bone,
leaves you eatin' animosity, every night, alone.
And I know, it can be an easy thing to harbor
but brother understand, it only makes the heart harder.
A slow burn, just like the end of a cigarette,
sometimes it's easier to cling than it is to forget.
That's why I highly advise you breathe easy,
cruise on through it like fluid, smooth in movement.
And my brother please let your wrath fly freely,
Never aim it like a gun waitin' for you to **** and shoot it.
I recognize, life leaves you searchin' for answers you can't find,
,but it's better to let go than to poison your own mind.
I hope you listen to this message I'm sendin'
and try to get a grasp on the lesson I'm stressin'.

I've learned many a thing,
in walking with the moon.
Most importantly I know, the night is a bitter mistress.
She gives no helping hand,
nor warmth or comfort.
No,
she offers naught but a cool touch and a silken whisper that says,
"You are all alone."
But I impress,
I've learned many a thing in walking with the moon.
A muse, is a muse, I suppose.
And I know,
A heavy heart is no burden to place
on a thing of flesh and blood.
So I'll saunter softly, through the lonely dark,
Sorting through lifes' simple pleasures,
and utter miseries.
Knowing that sometimes answers are only found,
when you're walking with the moon.

Words, once set to open air,
Gain weight.
Like boulders they can roll
from your mouth down a
slippery ***** of destruction to
eventually settle heavily on the shoulders
of innocent individuals, the weight of which
often proving too much for their
fragilely constructed foundations to support.
Like a gun,
keep the safety on what you speak,
Don't point hateful words,
at anything you love,
unless you intend to **** it.
Because more deadly than any
lead based projectile what you say
will leave your mouth like
a tomahawk missile loaded with
a poisonous and corrosive payload
capable of entering a persons soul and eating it up
from the inside out.
They'll tell you your whole life,
"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."
Perhaps more people would heed this warning,
If they said,
"Your words are a thermonuclear bomb capable of disintegrating
egos quicker than Fat Man did Nagasaki, the lasting effects of which may resonate through time in a cataclysmic downward spiral you could not possibly begin to imagine, so be careful."

Why do you people
think it so despicable,
that I won't share my time
on occasions in which
I'm particularly ******* miserable
I'll give you my reciprocal,
I don't need your help
I'm strong as an individual.
And I do not, intend to be critical,
but too many choose to use emotion,
over thinking that's analytical
That's why i need to be alone,
Both mental and physical,
It's kind of a ritual, interaction is minimal
It's never been personal, it's more of a principle
I hope you'll find it forgivable,
I am sorry,
But I'm strong as an individual.

I'll be honest
with you
friend
It's a long, dark, hard ****** road
we walk
You and I
It's gonna tear your heart out!
Spit on you
kick
you
when you're down
and
no one is ever going
to be
what you need
expect
I'm tellin you
roll with it
It
is
supposed
to hurt
It's not all
sunshine
and roses
But
at least
you'll feel something.

They tell me "Don't be bitter,"
"Cuz son we were the victors!"
But still my anger simmers,
I just can't find the cause.

Can't ever close my eyelids,
All I'll see is violence,
and many good men dying,
When will these nightmares stop?

Back home, there's no hope there,
The people do not care,
they all just stop and stare,
My soul's forever gone.

Be kind,
For at least once in your life the kindness you show, will make a monumental difference, for whom you showed it to.
Be flexible,
The tides of life will twist and turn you many ways, you must bend with them.
Be soft,
many will tell you only a thick skin will get you through, but it is only with soft hands that you can nurture broken hearts.
Be patient,
a short fuse will only put you in a deep hole.
And perhaps,
Most importantly,
Be open minded,
so that you will never hold back any of the above, because of what you think, but don't know.

Never have I seen a heart,
so wrought with open woe.
As a mother with a child who,
was far too young to go.

And nothing is as hopeless as,
watching parent bury child.
The scene burns into memory,
as if your eyes have been defiled.

Pray you never come to see,
your offspring meet deaths' kiss.
For naught in all the world I know,
is a purer pain, than this.

The first time I saw you smile,
It was like a punch in the face that sent me spinning into euphoria.
Time stopped.
A crowded room,
mind clouded with *****,
**** and,
*******.
And I saw your smile,
like a sailor lost on a dark sea, first lays eyes on light from land.
I imagine nothing short of a
lightning strike,
could near compare to the shock my system was rendered,
by the subtle lifting of your lips.
The first time I saw your smile,
was the first time
I knew love.

This is an ode, to words.
All the ******* beautiful words in existence.
At the end of the day,
the words are all we've ****** got!
The words are what separate us from the animals!
The words are life! And they are also death.
That's why you gotta fight for 'em, man,
bleed for 'em.
At some point in your life, someones gonna tell you,
"Hey! You can't say that! That's wrong, indecent, inappropriate!"
And you'll have to tell them,
"******* man! They're my words. I'll say which ones I please. You won't censor me, *******"
Oh they'll fight too, the *******.
They'll try to bully and beat and bribe your words outta you!
They know the words have power, but so do you.
That's why you can never surrender.
You may die kicking and screaming but ******* it,
you'll have your words to the very end!
They say, "Actions speak louder than words."
I say *******!
I say, "Words, are the inspiration for actions."
It is,
all.
about.
the words.

Farewell, dear friend, this will be our last goodbye.
Laugh at smiles shared my friend, for me you should not cry.
Fought my battles, some won some lost, but finally it's time.
To say our last farewells, old friend, this is our last goodbye.

He wandered a winding path,
through a wood he'd never traversed before.
No particular destination, he would know when he arrived.
The birds chirped and a spring doe darted through the brush somewhere.
He saw sunbeams dance through the budding trees
and felt the cold steel clutched in his hand and he thought
"It is a good enough day, for this sort of walk."
The wind blew,
mixing the music of the birds with that of it's hollow whistle.
The trail broke suddenly, disappearing  like a magicians rabbit.
Sun flooded his eyes, dazzling the senses.
He squinted, seeing a small and lonely field, grass blowing gently,
as if giving him a solemn bow.
The light warmed his cheeks,
and he thought, "Ah this, this spot is good enough."
The walk to the fields center was longer,
then he thought it would be.
And strange,
he couldn't hear the birds anymore.
But he could feel the cold steel clutched in his hand and he,
pressed it to his chin with a BANG... and he thought nothing.
But the wind still blew, and the sun still shone, and the day,
was still good enough.

I knew a wolf who dressed like sheep
with smiling eyes and hidden teeth.
Calmly through the flock he'd step.
Preaching life, and meaning death.

Once upon a dreary day,
he found a lamb who'd gone astray.
Lined with silver was his tongue,
a spectacle for one so young.

Nearly at the speed of light,
the wolf sprang forth and made his strike.
And not a sheep would hear the crunch,
of the wolf, enjoying lunch.

Sometimes,
Sometimes I can't sleep as horrors unforgotten slip their way through the thin veneer I have strung across a dark corner of my mind to hide these thoughts from the light of day.
On these nights,
On these nights I smoke a cigarette in shadows unbroken by the dim city lights and listen to a lonely cricket chirp and know at least we stand together in this midnight rendezvous.
In that I find peace.
Sometimes,
Sometimes I find myself unwilling to rise from my cold bed and face another strife filled day in a world full of challenge and misery that I was not asked but forced into.
Sometimes,
Sometimes I find my mind consumed by fear and hatred and anxiety inspired by a lifetime of bad decisions and worse luck in a seemingly never ending spiral of **** ups and shame.
But other times,
other times I find the smallest moments of bliss can rekindle the spirit and remember that goodness put forth will return if in nothing more than clear conscience and a light heart.
In the little things, I find peace.

You.
You are what once stayed my hand from rage.
You once blocked my lips from every bottle,
with your lips.
You are what once prevented tar from coating my lungs,
and you kept hate from filling my heart.
You once prevented my untimely demise.
You.
You are now every punch I throw and take in return,
You are every ounce of liquor that filters through my kidneys.
You are now every carcinogen I too often inhale,
You still keep my heart from hate,
Because you filled it to bursting with sorrow.
You are what I now follow to my grave.
You.

I’ve wandered ‘round,
From home to home.
And found one truth,
All stones erode.
Whether wind, or rain or steel pick-axe,
All stones erode,
It’s just a fact.
So when I lay, for my final rest
I have to say I think it’s best.
Forgo a stone, that will not last.
But plant a tree, Oak, Fir or Ash!
For as time passes, and memories go,
All stones erode, but the tree will grow.

It was a wild ride, today from yesterday.
I made mistakes along the way,
I smoked, I stole, I lied, I drank.
So when I went to heavens gate,
I expected only solemn look,
And for St. Pete to close the book.
Was to my surprise to find,
A cheerful grin and words so kind!
I apologized for being late, explained my shame,
For my mistakes.
“We know you’ve sinned son, and that’s just fine!”
“Because we know you always tried,
Trust me, you arrived in time!
We’ve set the tables, poured the wine!
So come on in son, have a seat.
There’s rest here for your weary feet.”

All I wanted was a lullaby,
a simple song to ease my mind.
And guide me into gentle sleep,
I’d long forsaken counting sheep.
A whisper through my clouded thoughts,
To recall a peace I had forgot.

I let smoke roll from my cigarette,
and watch like death entered the room.
Seeing it fill with his hazy presence,
undisturbed.
Few will know the peace that comes,
with choosing your fate.
I will NOT cower,
at the ghastly shade.
I will smile at it.

I found a man, amidst the chaos.
No lighted eyes, his dreams were lost.
I asked him was it was that ailed him,
Though I knew, ‘twas hope that failed him.
“I’ve looked upon the face of death,
And feel his hands, upon my chest,
reaching for my aching heart
I lost my faith, right at the start.”
I smiled weakly, I felt the same,
Except some hope I had maintained.
“We’ve been gone from home friend, for far too long
But I promise you, we’ll see the dawn.
The sun will rise, and it will set,
And with it we will get our rest.
You’ve marched and fought and carried on,
You’ve charged into the raging throngs,
Watched your comrades fall and die,
Seen life snuffed, as have I.
I cannot ask, you maintain faith,
Not here, not now, in death’s embrace,
For we’ve been gone from home, for far too long,
But I promise you, We’ll see the dawn.

Death beside me, softly waiting.
He gave me time for contemplating,
Past mistakes and wrongs I’ve made.
I truly thank that somber shade.
On borrowed time I cleared my mind,
Prepared myself for one last dive.
He whispered patiently in my ear,
“It’s time to go but have no fear”
“I’ve been told to lead you, toward a light”
And so I rose without a fight,
And took death’s hand and let him lead,
He’d given me the time I’d need,
To rest my mind and heavy heart,
Before I followed into the dark.