The songs of the living echo loudly in the light.
Reverberating throughout the world, descending in the abyss,
The screams of the dead fall silent in the night.

Humanity moves on, under the sun burning bright.
Singing their prayers into the enigmatic bliss,
The songs of the living echo loudly in the light.

While the poor, forgotten, souls vanish slowly from sight.
Bound by their beliefs, lost in the ever rising mist,
The screams of the dead fall silent in the night.

Are you going to accept it’s over, that you survived the fight?
Believe that it is never going to be your time, and how foolish it is to think this,
The songs of the living echo loudly in the light.

The dead, how they envy you, yet you accept the serpents bite.
Won’t even say a word, like they didn’t exist,
The screams of the dead fall silent in the night.

The embers of the final burning question, still burns so bright.
What would they say if they saw you like this?
The songs of the living echo loudly in the light.
The screams of the dead fall silent in the night.

I envision the worst.
It always seems to be fact, rather than fiction.

I have dreams of fire.
Falling from the sky in the blackest time of night.
Not stopping for anyone’s pleas, prayers, or cries.
The dreams always end the same way…
Everyone crying and screaming for their God.
But no reply.
More crying and screaming.
Suddenly… Everything goes to black. A light appears in the darkness.
A figure is suspended in the blackened, ash ridden sky.
It seems to be your savior.
Does salvation await?
He raises his hands… And then he throws them violently at his sides.
The Earth is erupt in flames.
Bodies are running around aimlessly in the night.
But now, the night is as bright as day.
The sight of this true and unrelenting horror is unveiled.
Burning, flesh decaying, people dropping like flies.
The figure in the sky is encased in fire.
His face forever hidden in shadows.
No matter how bright the night has become.
We are all doomed.


///////////////////////////////////////////////////////


The dawn of a new day begins.
The raging fires that consumed our world have finally come to an end.
Leaving only embers in its wake.
The shadowed figure suspended high above,
Gazes indifferently at this barren landscape.
In an instant, he vanishes.
Leaving behind whispers in the wind
And the burning embers of our once beautiful world.
Suddenly, a figure stirs.
A young Phoenix emerges from the ashes.
She stretches her burning wings, and takes in what lays around her,
And she cries.
The young Phoenix sheds the most beautiful, crystalline,
Sorrow filled tears upon the land.
The tears begin to flow, forming rivers.
The rivers form into lakes,
The lakes form into oceans,
Suddenly the Earth is almost completely covered.
The few patches of land left start to shake.
And, what almost seems impossible,
Saplings start to grow.
Slowly, but surely,
The Earth starts to revive.
As the Sun climbs over the horizon,
The Phoenix ceases her tears.
She gazes into the Sun,
It’s essence burning in her eyes.
She takes flight.
In that one moment,
As the Phoenix flies towards the rising Sun,
All is new again.
The world is finally at peace.

A man loves a woman,
A woman loves a man.
From two opposite ends of the universe,
No mortal could ever understand.

The man, handsome and charming.
The woman, sweet and fair.
A pair of wings fixed on her back,
A set of horns under his hair.

Could an Angel, love a Devil?
What a silly thing to believe.
Yet, true love knows no boundaries,
It can overcome what eyes perceive.

For they are human, not deities,
Two souls looking for their mate.
If light can exist with darkness,
The wings and horns will dissipate.

The mirrors gaze; sends a feeling of uneasiness, as it always does.
I know not why my heart grows cold when I stand before it.
Perhaps it knows I have stayed longer than usual?
That I have stared longer than usual.
My reflection remains motionless as I turn away.

I challenge thee,
Nay -- I request thee.
To ignore your ignorant labels that you have given to me.

Yes -- I may be the abnormal one.
A gullible blade in my pocket.
A guitar strapped to my back.
They provide me with comfort.

I do not have a longing to join the crowd.
I am me. Not you, nor him, nor her, nor anyone else.

In the last glimmer of hope, the broken pieces we try to mend.
We take in our surroundings, and watch the setting sun.
As the last ember dies, all hope comes to an end.

The realization of it all, only a few will comprehend.
And in our dying hour, we try to rebuild it one by one.
In the last glimmer of hope, the broken pieces we try to mend.

The happenings of it all, is it merely a godsend?
Or a fatal blow or reality, a match that cannot be won?
As the last ember dies, all hope comes to an end.

Will we rise up above, into the heavens we ascend?
The thankfulness of this release, greeted kindly by the Son.
In the last glimmer of hope, the broken pieces we try to mend.

Or will we fall into the abyss, this spiraling purgatory we descend?
Our final breaths cut short, face to face with I, and none.
As the last ember dies, all hope comes to an end.

We pour out our souls, in our savior we commend.
We are left without an answer, when all is said and done.
In the last glimmer of hope, the broken pieces we try to mend.
As the last ember dies, all hope comes to an end.