ADP and ATP,
DNA calamity.
RNA provides ridicule and cruelty.
Death note delivery.

Blood laughs and screams as it pours from slit veins.
It doesn't care about the souls its owner has stained!
What have you feigned?
What selflessness remains?
None to be sure as parasitic reality you frame.

What are we then?
Surely not worth baiting.
An existential lion's den.
But does it matter if we're waiting?
The most important question is "When?"

We exist to cause our problems,
to eliminate the heretic race.
It's a race that know one wins when,
They always have their problems to chase.

So enlighten us with,
Your sacred soul's bliss,
Or grow up from this tantrum of toil and ****.

Science of religion,
An oxymoron to say the least.
It is one thing to take the message.
Another to let your mind waste.

Savor what you have to the nucleus of your soul.
Know what makes you righteous.
Know it well and full.
Know what you live life for.
We're abiotic to assume that we "know" things we won't search for.

Quake before your ruler if only for an hour!
He rules your mind with the echoes of this audible power!

Praise him like you would the faith of your mind,
But the faith of your body and soul shall be aligned!

Praise the bass-line as the endocrines race.
The drugs in her pocket with ***** you'll chase.

"**** our futures!
We're young!
We'll rave til the sun!
Our happiness this moment won't relay the deeds done!"

They won't rant while they rage,
Like humans trapped in their cage.

The animals are free 'til they sleep in their grave!
Abandon your god and pray to the rave!

The slow trickle behind my bedroom wall,
alerts me to a subtle call.

"Help...help... save me from this cell."
But I cannot risk my sanity o'er my mind's concocted hell.
"Please... please... I miss life all too well."
Says I, "Do not stir me demon, my soul is not to sell."

I wrap the sheets around my ears and focus hard to sleep,
But a rest was not deserved for the demon craved to leap.

"I smell blood! I smell blood!
Like the sweetest rose-bud!"

Says I, "I smell nothing fiend!
You are only dreamed!
No reality in this is seen."

A chortle laugh is known just then while my walls begin to creak.
A drop of blood falls on my chest and grants a chilling shriek.

"Is it too late for reality to change its mind and let me die?"
The crimson stain upon my ceiling has deemed my end is nigh.

"Do you hear me? Do you hear me? Are you yet so vain?"  
Says I, "I am not! I am not! Do cause me no more pain!"

A sharp crack of thunderous tempered toil rips a chasm through my soul.
The trickle, trickle, trickle, to sleep will never lull.

"Do you hear it? Do you see it? Do you envy all the dead?"
"I smell blood! I smell blood! But out gushes YOUR blood instead!"

And then a scream of biting hatred breaks the silence through.
The stain pours blood upon my room while tempest's force ensues.

The dead retreat,
Unto their sleep,

Now my only friend is you.

Locked onto innocent target.
Relinquish the rockets.
The little boy's bracket,
Records all the bodies lying down in their turrets.

No trauma received,
Mental droning perceived,
As common as breathing,
For death blows on the breeze.

How shallow are breaths,
When humanity tempts,
The weak of heart dying from carrion and stench.

The holy ones warm life's bench,
Their pawns play the field,
We're playing a game with sticks clenched,
where failure sees fates sealed.

The drone like a referee strikes out the ones revealed.

As the news soaks in I feel it.
My stomach folds and caves in.

The searing secret I held,
Was meant to know freedom.

I wanted you to know.
I wanted you for me.

But I died before that arrow left your bow,
Thrown to the depths,
It was too far below to pray.

Call me a ******* *****!
Call me a ******* gay!
The ignorant mass!
To waste and decay!

When you die with your secrets,
You know what they'll say?

"Useless!"
"Worthless!"
"A lackluster loss!"
"A step to climb!
With unopened eyes!"

I have no more secrets.
But now what do I do?
It makes my food want to leave me,
The urge to let this bleed unto you!

I loved you to lift you,
But you shot me just to bail.

I was to save your bent spirit,
Now I have no one to fail.

These secrets won't leave,
Theyre ******* in the back.

Tortured with hatred,
Until they break free to attack.

This was you!
This was me!

And this is you,
My only real confidant,
Sacrificing me.

Look at the strange child,
He hides in his hood.

Sunken like Kronos,
In a prison of blood.

Look now to the girl,
With the waiting rubber-band,

Aimed at the boy,
Who won't make a stand.

A snap is heard by a few in the room.
They know not what they witness,

They will to laugh to their doom.
As they sift through suspended stillness.

Then for the boy everything stops,
The projectile poised in front of his face.

He strengthens his mind while his mask then drops,
His fears are no more for his demons he'll chase.

Time is no more while he walks to the girl,
Staring at the place he once resided,

In his pale eyes hatred writhes and swirls,
Now for sure he is decided,

The flask in his pocket contains the essence of virtue,
The reality from a god of cruel taste,

Down her throat he pours it for he knew,
The purity of the righteous will watch the guilty waste.

Leaving the place he used to call hell,
Time returns to disgrace.

The girl then ignited and fell,
The boy goes to find new evils to face.

What a waste of a world,
What a waste.

The bold little pearls that cluster round our pens,
Have killed the ones who should have lived and would rather meet their ends.

Tragedy is strategy for those who do not care.
Drown out the stares with alcohol your pockmarked pain you wear.

Dependent on the potion that makes a joker coo.
Suspend o'er the smoke that floats pain and ecstasy through.

Killing thoughts, but saving pain is bound to break you ill.
Hooked round the solid solace of the prisms shown surreal.

Burn the burrowed bulls-horns from your gut.
Drink from the blood of sinner's past while you wallow sway and strut.

Lest you find a deadly blow from pipe and needle's cut.

Bullets will burrow in the souls of the guilty,
Let the broken rise up and eliminate the filthy!
They crawl on the floor playing weak forever more when they're really the strongest,
But they blind us with remorse!
To believe there is reason is to drown in your own lie,
For your sorry soul you can expect to die!

A soul near clean outweighs one appearing pristine.
Hogs wearing masks of their victims try to be queen.

They are swine to all no veil can hide them.
Squandering their own subjects and consuming all in sight,
Rotund with treachery and lies but useless when it comes to a fight.

Fire from the trench,
Up to the throne,
Pierce the hog's fat and break all his bones.
Give his meat to the starving lest they ask for more,
How humane are they.

How unruly the poor.

Stop it.
Stop it.
Leave it.
Leave it.
If you were worth it,
We'd make it.

That coward would die,
For a chance to just try,
To lick at your lips,
were you not taken by,

That coward,
That *******!

A sick **** who won't break through,
He took you from me while you burned this infidelity unto.

"I'm ******* here!"
You scream and you kick,
The beautiful *****,
The transparent trick.

They can't both have you,
But I'm ******* here,
To love you or stab you.
To drown in our tears.

When the seas cry to the sky
To say they've been fouled by blood,
It has been said that the rain will reverse to take it away.

Where it rains,
I have been there.

I have seen the black's glare
I have learned not to care.

When the ice breaks
And the darkness falls in,
It has been said that the ice will seal it in the unholy depths.

Trapped under the ice,
I have been there.

I have seen the black's glare.
I have learned not to care.

But I brought a cover from the storm,
A pick for the ice.

Because I am not there.
But I have been there.
And the black calls me back,
It glares,
It's stare spites.

So I must find a flame.
To meet the black's sight.

I have been here,
There,
Then,
And now.
And I plan to leave.

Save from your being what creates your life-song!
As you are known to me you're not wrong.

Don't cower at the sight of the sacred syndicate son.
His business is you and he won't let you run.

He traps in your mind the ghosts in the glass,
Makes you wallow in pain while circuits all laugh.

If you stow all your guilt in a world in a box,
The creeping yellow journal screams when it talks.

"YOU'RE WRONG!
I'M RIGHT!
IF YOU TRY,
YOU JUST MIGHT,
FIND SALVATION FROM YOURSELF,
WHEN I TAKE CHAINS TO BIND YOU TIGHT!"

I realize what death from cages stole my life away at once.
To shut the gate on cynical hate I reload and **** my gun.

3 quick shots the syndicate feels before he falls to the ground:
The individual's sound,
The life full round,
And deaths toll on truth unwound.

PART I.

Caesar calls.
In line his empire falls.

Satan crawls.
His words in drawls.

Why will you not cry!
You foolish child-king.
Can't you see they lie?
But the enlightened bell of hope did ring.

They called him the messiah,
The only explanation for his love.
Spreading peace or land of Gaea,
But under false witness of the above.

Told throughout his life that he would make hatred cease.
He knew to follow moral ways and save damnation's piece.

He knew not what he'd do,
But he would devote his life unto,
Herding these wretched to the path they were due.
If only he truly knew.

PART II.

What this man had done,
Born under the Roman's sun,
Is relinquish emotion too strong.
To become one,
Work must be done,
For the human race is wrong.

Although he lied,
Although his wrath grew,
This man was truly good.
His teaching here are sacred, true,
But wars fought for him never stood.

The prince of peace to light the way,
Caused human freedom's final decay.

Now trapped forever,
A misused endeavor.

His birth is all but in vain.
We must pass peace to end his pain.

Says the monarch to his advisers,
"Find me a place of infinite joy and rest."
The ambassador and general for weeks ponder such test.

They knew that their lives would be ended upon failure,
And such a place as described was of very much allure.

They abandoned their families and searched throughout hell.
No death toll called for them,
But their wives and children were unwell.

The monarch grew fat,
Replacing his cabinet.
"Where the broken ones go,
Is the place where peasants set."

Battered and weary,
Their families starved dead,
The two men returned,
The paradise was found in the end.

Where the broken ones go is where they found endless rest.
The paradise lost to humans who burned the sacred guest.

When they arrived to the palace a messenger informed,
"You foolish ******* have killed your families and been replaced!"
He scorned.

"Call us not fools,"
In unison they said,
"We have found paradise where the broken ones go,
And to traverse there we have the tools of your God's dead."

The messenger looked down with terrible fright.
Shot dead on the spot he would find endless night.

They bowed to the monarch and were invited to approach.
"What have you putrid peasants brought me?" He snarled with reproach.

"We have brought you the paradise that you seek without care."
"Insolent fools! I will have you murdered should you not share!
I demand to know this place of such wonder for my lair."

Then the two men spoke a prayer,
Twin vocals so pure,

"Where the broken ones go,
Where death finds no show,
But will have such appeal,
For death is the paradise to which all will kneel."

The monarch laughed heavily and fell to his knees,
He was no more an immortal than the men and the breeze.

His last smile on his face,
the men fired,
The monarch swam in his own blood,

The monarch found paradise where the broken ones should.

Of the silence?
Are you aware?

"Of course,
But I don't care."

A word just sounded,
From beyond the dark!

"Absurd this accusation,
Silence leaves no mark."

Silence in one constant chord,
You're a lyrical being true.

Static on the radio's ward,
A sound heard by the living few,

Always hiding,
Always plotting,

Plotting to **** you.

They crawl through the remnants of the ice-cascaded leaves,
They listen to the words and the exhalations that you seethe,

They burn into your mind with their dark and stinging presence,
Out of corners of your eyes flashes their consuming iridescence.

Divided we fall to the evil which careens,
But together on all sides there is nothing unseen.

Our covert chorus will never fall,
To the vine of scales that follows all,

The serpent's slick black viewed through the holes in the walls!

A hiss!
A strike!
Too weak!
Too much like,
The darkest *****.

To  what they are, a slithering mass of serpents crawling,
And brawling with the street rats in the night!

I was writing all down what was written before,
Writing down prats,
Writing down ******.
When I stumbled upon an array of deceit,
It was a trap,
They took my journal from me.
I smiled.
No one will ever find their bodies.

In the day,
I feel the end coming,
No wind blowing,
No insect humming.

The horizon stretches,
toward the pink and orange sky.

How I wish I could go there.
How beautiful to die.

But living...
As a coward,
wallowing,
Day by day,
hour by hour,

Swallowing our fears,
Then for a safety we drink them down some more.

These calloused fingers show the work of mankind,
But when there's nothing left nothing matters but this mind.

The senile society we work for today,
Killed me dead on the spot with bio-terror serenades.
The fire in the sky lights my hopes ablaze,

They are ashes now,
The desires of this day.
To myself I wouldn't bow,
a god in disarray.

An empire of one man,
One freedom,
one gun.

By day this infinite power,
By a day that is an hour.

And this empire has one man,
One coward.

New sounds of grateful pupils,
They learn what they want as long as their attempts are futile.

Want nothing,
Receive less.

The veiled shouting,
Gets undressed,

***, drugs,
Violence, jugs,

It's all the same when the siren tugs.

Our age of the noise,
The followers of a voice,

Doing not what is right,
But the new dawn of our snake's bite!

Rotting in this wasteland,
Right where you painted me,
A picture perfect defacing,
Of burning kerosene!

Drop your lighter to the stone cold pebbles,
**** all of the spectral levels,
Wavering and never tame...

The only body I possess,
Desecrated by her majesty's insolence!
Her kingdom of soldiers,
Are forced to enlist!
The knighted sheep will fight!
The palace door's locked!
And why do you check the clock?
You know you'll never leave!
Her majesty is the ***** of living,
Yet she owns the only key!

The ******* behind you,
Captain your only ship!
Because of them you'll never know,
Your subjects fell to ****!
Bite back your pity,
While you bite off your own tongue!
Let the riots burn your city,
While singing my dying song!
May you ******* die!
Let you burn and die you ****!

And I will not be alone!
Doesn't matter when! Now and then!
Watching your heart turn to stone!
I'll let it go you you ******* end!

Her makes ties insolence kills the serpents dead!

I'm begging you end it!
End it!
Rise mup to your pennant!
The flag of the mighty will dawn over severance!
******* end it!
End it!
Rise up to your pennant!
The flag of those left to die,
Will fly for our solace again...
(End scream)

I'm begging you end it!
Just end it all now I repent it!
Will your dry pity allow?
I tried oh I tried!
I gave up and lied!
Her majesty shot through this unbeating heart of mine...
OH WHY?!

Why do I try?
I tried oh I tried, I gave up and lied!
Feel the bullets of sorrow pierce through this GOOD HEART OF MINE!!!

I am no poet,
I am a song,
I am a violence that is my own psalm.
I am a lyricist,
And I wish to post,
Something to raise a toast,
To my favorite inciters of rage and prose.

You,
You don't know me,
I am a silhouette of a ghost that does not exist,
But yet you listen,
Listen to the breath of a simple sad song,
I could tell you a story,
But it would only inspire you to stray,
I wish that you stay on the straight and narrow,
But there are tributaries and animal trails to explore.
What you don't know,
That is what kills you.
So learn all you can,
Listen to this subtle figment of your imagination,
The voice of a lost angel,
You don't know me.
But I know you,
I've always known you.
There is nothing to lose,
But your mind.
So listen to this first crazed warning I give,
Do not stray,
But rather except your supporting pillars of reality,
It is the reality you make.
But your past is a different reality you say.
You're wrong.
The past has nothing to do with the ghost,
The voices and the ghosts are not reminders.
They are teachers.
For the only thing in your life that matters is the future.
The voices have died now,
Now the mist from your eyes is gone and you see...