Can you see them?
I'll ask tilting my head to the left,
As smiles coupled with warm emotions.
Touch and hold your hands sisterly.
Those spinning weapons,
indescribable without set shape,
Fashion them into whatever you like,
I'll say as my head returns to its proper place,
Addressing one of my loyal subordinates.
The last painless you'll know is,
His gloves on your back.

I seized her arm,
Held that crippled trembling hand,
Freed Janet from silence by,
Opening her trust forcibly and resolutely,
I had to set her free even if I had to,
Break each finger one by one.
Until she dropped it and reverted back,
Into that unflowered girl propped up against,
An unwell.
I didn't stop even as vile unmeant words,
Lashed my heart raw and bleeding,
Twice round the globe.

As that grip loosened,
Shaking uncontrollably,
Often flickered a shade of bronze,
Betwixt hushed gasps of silence,
A turning wrist, twisting against mineral limits,
I heard a song playing,
As her sliced arm betrayed by inhumanity,
Shook and convulsed without forethought,
I saw her salvation,
Dangling above my weakness.

I had stolen them myself,
Cloth of soothing tightness,
Wrapping it around damning proof,
Praying it to close around her pain,
To keep her from remembering.
Clueless and possessed by forbidden sufferings,
Janet grabbed a tuft of my hair and held it sobbing,
Pulling at the root.
Enduring my appropriate punishment,
She cried,
Through ungiving eyes nothing soaked her dignity,
Concealment continued though,
To herself she admitted,
What had happened.

Once reclothed and restored,
Outward appearance still concealed truth,
Her heart was elsewhere not here,
Someplace between hate and fear,
A space of ungraspable power and agony,
Few fear for few would ever near its core,
Willingly, still,
More and more initiates wormed their way towards,
That vacuous chamber,
It's mine she said,
It's mine!

I redirected silence away from nothing,
She'd solve it and be alone in a world that,
Would devour her again.
Beside all that would cross her fragile path,
Shivering in a ball of herself with,
Those grinning demons.
They were our friends she said once grown,
House Venom was our source of exile,
Not Toblin's promises...

Janet snarled at me,
As I redressed her with bloodless clothes,
Those eyes could ****, but for unknown reasons,
They denied me release.
Not looking upon her with a single eye,
It was a hideous sight,
Washed her clean of nightmares,
Worn outside her skull,
Beside a waterwheel followed by no one,
Except my guilt.
I tainted once heavenly waves,
Of prosperity that flowed between hands,
Sticking not an inch up my arms,
I was denied awareness of that difference between,
Surface temperature and groundwater.
Because I had to do what she needed,
Not what she wanted,
Janet pressed that silence,
That stole her voice, replaced by primal utterings,
To my unafraid throat.

Escorted from uncut roses,
Janet fought without power,
Against the unreality carrying her away,
From perceived solutions.
Lurking beneath her surface,
The edge of restraint stirred endlessly,
Threatening to cleave my head free,
From worthless neck.
That sleeve was still gone,
**** tainted by a red chill,
Stared at my failures,
Tempting my soul to crush my heart,
With a damning duality.

I will never forget her words.
Of sheer glass screeching against the world.
Of atrocities whose gravity.
Is inexorable.

Once that blade of silence enabled her to catch.
The thief's neck unaware.
She sent his lifeforce rolling down a valley.
Of prevented crimes.

Halted descent to gaze into cups of red,
Falling from one human reservoir to the next.
Each drop splashed to become happiness with a twirl,
No longer a girl.
She joyfully played with a life less than illegitimate,
Giggling soulless and unrepentant,
At the profanity of it all.

Vengeance usurped her throne,
Without dignity to advise her,
When logic crumbled trying to stop her from.
Taking it back.
I diverted that hand.

Clutching silent cure with rigid fingers.
Janet she,
Pressed purpose to reason's concern.
Revealed psychosis and told my heart,
No.

With a plain face and quivering smirk,
I was pushed back with an emptying ****.
He's still there, still alive and well,
I'd like to not be as such.

Hidden inside our new home of blue and gold.
Caught by lyrical promises sang by a once comely ally.
Turned fat idiot by serpent's slaughter.
Toblin's other vassal was spotted.
Grinning accomplice or not he was.
Spotted.
Recognized.
Slaughtered.
In the aforementioned manner.

There was nothing changed or nothing alive.
Less broken than put together wrong,
Once it came to shed light.
And truth trickled in.
Surrounding that night only hushed silence could be spoken.
Between them ever again.
If only that axe was sharper and my skills,
Weren't a boy's instead a man held that weapon.
It wouldn't have happened.
Ever.

I will never forget her words.
Of sheer glass screeching against the world.
Of atrocities whose gravity.
Is inexorable.

Once that blade of silence enabled her to catch.
The thief's neck unaware.
She sent his lifeforce rolling down a valley.
Of prevented crimes.

Halted descent to gaze into pools of red,
Falling from one inhuman reservoir to the next.
She joyfully played with a life less than illegitimate,
Giggling soulless and unrepentent,
At the profanity of it all.

Without dignity to hold her back.
When logic tried to stop her from.
Taking it back.
Janet she,
Pressed purpose to reason's concern.
Revealed psychosis and told me,
No.

With a plain face and quivering smirk,
I was pushed back with an emptying ****.
He's still there, still alive and well,
I'd like to not be as such.

Hidden inside our new home of black and red.
Caught by lyrical promises sang by a once comely ally.
Turned fat idiot by serpent's slaughter.
Toblin's other vassal was spotted.
Grinning accomplice or not he was.
Spotted.
Recognized.
Slaughtered.
In the aforementioned manner.

Terror makes everything clear.
As it fades away we learn the truth.
Keep a weapon always by your side.
Even if you trust them.
It never hurts to be certain of the outcome.
Took it from me and left nothing in return.
Better not come back expecting to stay alive.
A dead man once did that to me.
Couldn't let him get away with that for long.
Killed him with silence to end his song.

There was nothing changed or nothing alive.
Once it came to shed light.
And truth trickled in.
Surrounding that night only hushed silence could be spoken
Between them ever again.
If only that axe was sharper and my skills.
Weren't a boy's instead a man held that weapon.
It wouldn't have happened.
Ever.

Choosing to die rather than watch.
Matthew rose to feet unsupported by vigor.
Wielding a simple woodcutter's axe.
Turned butcher's cleaver.
His foe turned, pivoted and let go of lever.
That wood exploded.
Its head fell into the marsh.
He fished for it but found instead.
A blade by his head.

Matthew didn't watch by choice.
It was that shard of queer unwashed civility
That pushed his face towards her, as her audience.
Unwilling and unforgiven.
Even by himself.

By now earth's turn.
Had brought a stoic ally out from hiding.
Its mortified whiteness remained unchanged.
Before this world.
It had no reason to urge a man.
To smile.
Luminous rays of borrowed fame.
Came to bring perverted acclaim.
To steel soo twisted it didn't deserve a name.

He meant well.
But aimed poorly.
That head of re-purposed iron.
Struck naught but air,
Beaconing a second strike,
To reach back came natural and true.
But blue was gloves upon hands ensnared by spear training.
Scented by wine.
They blocked in time to send.
Boy of hair tinted cherry red.
To his knees instead.

Matthew moved he didn't run.
Those weren't legs it was air.
Rushing faster than he didn't care.
If his life remained here or there.
Once his axe was raised above shoulder height.
He didn't have the strength.
To set it down again.

Moving couldn't happen.
She was struck by a life that wasn't.
Isn't, it can't be.
Said a chin angled and raised beneath tip of sword.
Odd cords of her own liquid, a red mystery.
Ran down where her sleeve should be.
Holding it for an answer didn't work.
A second sound pulled out a dirk.
Asked politely for this one.
Help yourself.

Denial and reality hit harsh.
As she collapsed into what was marsh.
Her crying made the heavens shed tears.
To compete with a girl of four years.
Her's combined and swallowed theirs.
Never again would they, spill from those eyes.

That ugly sword.
Bent, dented and twisted from misuse.
Landed in sodden earth beside a sticking stone.
Polished by muddy excuses.
Those he brought with him.
Matthew was a smart boy but.
He couldn't read.

Matthew heard her blow.
That stroke belonged to her yet.
Passed her by.
Nothing changed until.
Red chill removed a sleeve.

Janet hit a tree, it stopped moving.
Squeezing eased her pain it was alright.
Drowned fingers intertwined to clasp forevermore.
Around a plausible trunk that had to be.
Daddy.
Confused yet interested, a man's hand wiped a brow.
Clean of water, retrieved glinting from leather length and.
Raised his answer to desperate love.

Creaking doors moved by hands.
That held no form.
Twin shadows of maybe.
Awaited obscured and unknown.
She closed eyes not yet hers.
Bent knees and kicked feet uncut by time.
Puddles leapt aside, splashing into the unreality.
The refused truth.
Janet ran it quicker than Matthew.
Could grip his axe...

Unspeakable grief.
Couldn't handle it.
Had to run into the mist.
Beyond village limits.
It carved a path unknown.
Untouched perhaps there.
The rules were different.
Maybe they're waiting.
For me, Father, mother,
I'm coming...
It's them.
It has to be.

No telling a child of four.
How they'd been taken.
How they'd never come back.
No matter how long she waited.
Or how strong her will became.
They wouldn't drop in with the rain.
Couldn't reach that drain.
With arms deadened by spear.
To pull himself back into his daughter's...
Life of four fragile moments.

Matthew was older.
His why solidified while.
Her's crossed her feet as mist.
Black and typical in a village.
Burnt cold by lives unreturned.
His father died from carried wounds.
Mother by disease, endless fever.
That life as a boy eagerly hearted.
Courageous with lungs of infinite capacity.
He'd breathe for hours at full speed.
His heart never undone.
His father's axe, always smiling.
Even through brown and off white
It passed through for hours on its way to him
And his mother in happier days.
But ghosts would hold here,
Never letting go, no matter how loving he,
Had to go on so.
He crushed them between his eyes.
Leaving the past to the dead.

No one came for her tears.
To collect them in a bowl.
Nor did caring words tucked in a note.
Bring her closure, still she'd had to try.
And make waiting work against facts.
Will corpses to stand once more.
Why...How, I...
Through rain and bitter cold.
She'd wander hours uncounted.
Searching for faces unfound.
Beneath venomous tides of reason.
Reasons she couldn't see.
There was no how.
Only why.

Matthew saw she couldn't stand.
He knew it was the weapon that held her.
Trembling before its power.
After that near death experience years ago.
She'd never been the same girl.
He'd found alone and shivering.
As rain soaked her bones.
An infant before circumstance.
That ruffled head of innocence.
Brown eyed and unflowered
Couldn't take it all in now or then.

I love the night.
I love the rain.
I hate the sun.
I cheer when it falls.
And cry again when it rises.
Its safe at night, in the streets slick with freedom.
We can run with cold air in our lungs.
Forget the rest and be wild with me.
The light is our enemy.

Nothing makes sense.
Organizations attempt to make sense of it all.
The truth is, disorder is the status of reality.
Few will ever realize their goals because of this.
All will experience that which they fear the most.
In the end I will laugh as I lie hopeless, helpless and dying again.
Remember the shadows and curse the light.

I wish to dance amongst the flowers.
With a girl beside me full of love.
We will rebel against time and be immortalized.
I will look into her eyes and she'll disappear.
A lock of hair I'll grasp before her departure.
It will be all I can hold onto to keep her alive.
Even as I descend into a quagmire of despair.
I will keep her there.
Sinking beside me.

His eyes are red spheres of crimson: blood is a sweet aroma.
His scarlet cloak rides the desert breeze, the time is near.
The heat-rod nestled upon his back seethes with anticipation.
He does his best to calm its restless nature.
Empathy flows through him, he too feels uncomfortable.
Outside the realm of instinctual action; a grey area of instant decision cut off from regret's jurisdiction, Tervous feels uneasy and unnatural.
A creature of war cannot breathe the air of peace or live within its domain.

In the skull, light dwells.
Outside all is darkness.
A cloak that keeps them warm.
I shiver despite the heat.
A man smiles towards me.
I cannot see his face.

Too many beg.
Too many want and desire.
To hold a place beside the fire.

Bathe me in armor, bright as light.
Throw me into darkness, cold as regret.
Revel in triumph, you have won.
Shed not a tear, it must be done.

Relinquish ownership, the ring is flawed, unworthy.
Pass it on to that lesser man, it suits him well.
May it weigh him down, like all your baubles.
Useless trinkets, adorning your weary hands.
Testament to your folly, decisions better unmade.
They look back at you, your gaze is welcomed.
Revealing your true self, you like not what you see.
Your ugliness, the filth that fills you, is now somewhat concealed.
from the eyes that judge, the people who enable your greed.
they now view you more, as something they need.

Happy Happy Happy
Sad       Sad      Sad
Why are you?
Why are you?
Don't be soo mad!

Everyone hears it,
Briefly before it all crumbles away.
Wet and dripping I retrieved.
Life from death with a hurried flicker.
I'm cursed with this perverted trick.
I can't bare to look at myself or it.
One side snickers at me through steel lips.
The other sings at me with an open mouth.
I see moths congregating above.
Will it swallow their light?

A divergence set us apart.
Matthew's hold loosened until.
He wasn't there anymore.
The crashing disturbance above.
Alerted me to the presence far too late.
A masked face with oval eyes.
Set on my vulnerabilities.
Came crashing down bathed in leaves.
Before reflex could oust me from capture.
His hands were there.
But my voice was not.

I feel I must.
Comprehend all things and leave nothing unsaid.
Allow truth to seep in rejecting all lies.
Never disobey the voices that shield you from them.
Not a moment goes by that I don't doubt myself.
Outside there is light that closes in on itself.
Threaten those that wound you.
Excruciating ceaseless pain that follows me to bed.
Surround yourself with yourself and be in total agreement.
Convinced its all an illusion that will pass with time.
Awaiting a tidal change for respite.
Perhaps tomorrow my pain will be light.
Expect no improvements in a broken world.

Blackened beyond resemblance to that of a living girl.
Andulan was delivered to a cold hard slab of vile witchcraft.
Only this wasn't a witch's coven.
Nor was any witchcraft actually involved.
That was merely what she screamed once she realized where she wasn't.
Lying face down leaking into snow beneath her ruined corpse.
Andulan demanded her throat be cut immediately.
My death was why you came by the thousands to our castle right?
For what other reason did your forces come for the throne held by my father?
If not to see us all stacked and burnt atop a stripped down column of humanity?
Tell me! But they owed her no explanation.
That was when silence reached for song's hands.
Hidden behind her skull.
A simple gesture freed her from her thoughts.
Replaced a girl with a monster.

Oil was used to seal her fate and that of her siblings.
While a sword was ****** through her only relative.
In clear view as she writhed in fire.
The crush of fabric attached to her only competition.
Threatened to smother before the fire could claim her.
As her sisters and lone brother agonized in a pool of misery.
She thought only of herself and her slain father.
The only person worthy of acknowledgement.
The others never recognized her beauty or grace.
It made her sneer at them with disdain.
Her mother was throttled for hours, where none would bear witness.
Andulan couldn't care less.

The night she was killed, she was but a girl of 13.
Still young and whole.
Unblemished by that insistence that all fade with time.
Fresh flowers went unnoticed around her.
Guarded night and day, joined by her father's snakes wherever she went.
Wandering the passages of her entitlement bare-foot and weightless.
She'd be gawked at if she tried that outside the blissful permission granted by.
Her father's hold over the world.
Tragically from their perspective only.
Song stood as worthy challenge to Venom's potency.
Easier to apply and effortless to spread.
Once inside it charted course across territory wearing clothes from all cultures.
Puppets of such quantity couldn't be bitten into submission quick enough.
To stem the tide of red they'd set into crashing motion.

While Matthew and his timid protector watched.
Sharin burned with her tears.
Inside the conflagration, behind waves of blackened heat and bitter smoke.
An ongoing mockery of lady-hood held a plump prisoner before her feet.
He vowed in vain to serve the venom queen as yet another faceless stooge.
Lucky for him she wouldn't suffer the company of anymore idiots.
Battered and humbled he wore a defiant smirk.
She'd remark later how he appeared to welcome his death.
Not everyone enjoys the company of one as glorious as myself.
That dress cast aside the darkened hue it obtained.
The scent of smoke didn't cling nor did the stench of shed tears run down its length.
For you see.
She has no remorse left in her.

Toblin's mind shot him an image of what he'd do.
Before he actually did it.
Buckets of oil drowned what remained of Sharin's tear.
Her tear ducts were now thoroughly clogged beyond return.
Drumming fingers danced upon his leathery tunic.
It was Andulan, princess of lies wearing a human face.
If he turned from his conviction to see Sharin burn.
And faced her.
That snake would bite into his neck and fill his homeland.
With buckets of blood.

Joined by that dead queen.
Who shouldn't still be breathing.
Made Toblin uneasy and groping for a way.
To see her gaze turned from him.
Not enough room in this carriage I'm afraid.
His brain wanted him to say.
A cowardly misdirection sure to sever head and leave it dangling.
Above the recently resurrected House of Venom.
The loyal need fear no such poisons.
Toblin knew better.
Every man unwise enough to kiss those snakes.
Woke up powerless the next day.
His command seized by serpents swimming beneath the defenses.
He had built over a lifetime.

She stirred from within Matthew's shadow.
Grasping Silence in one free hand.
Thinking of the consequences awaiting her if.
She used that power.
A company of spear-men.
Circling Toblin's convoy with keen edges in hand.
Would loose fierce rebuke if she were found.
Still alive.
Matthew clutched his chest and pulled down.
Just his stomach this time.
Could I spend the rest of our lives.
Wrapped in song sweetened by his thunder.
I'd part my clouds to let him in.

Toblin recalled the voice of an angel.
Still untouched and pure as fallen snow.
Her servants tripped over feet held in glass.
Filled with emptiness and unable to support.
In the face of her breeding and gloriously divorced position.
From the grave her family still held sway.
Clutching the crown that would make them masters again.
Toblin is nothing more than an irritant I shall see bloodied
And humbled by nights end.

Princess of verses, lady of such beauty forbidden.
Across both mindscapes of men and fields of time.
Remained alive as a relic of a simpler age.
Before the tyrannical grip of song had seized men.
And women of low report alike.
A scar obscured by lace and black coronet.
Marked where her song and silence had met.
However if you asked her she'd politely correct you.
Nothing more than child's folly I assure you.
Before a snapping arrow would pierce you.