Waking up in a hazy fog
Regular Sunday Morning
It is Sunday right?

Bits and pieces of last night rushing to the forefront of my mind
but a feeling that there's a missing piece of vital information

aaaaaaand there's a stranger next to me
she's so still!
she's alive
God I hope she's alive
My jeans are still on so we obviously didn't do anything
wait why are my jeans ripped?
Did they come this way?
No they didn't
did they?
my shoes are still on too
well at least one is anyway
where the hell is my other shoe
how does somebody lose one shoe
losing a pair is actually more understandable

I should probably go wash the glitter off my hands
wait why do I have glitter on my hands?

aaaaand I have a black eye
who did I fight?
probably got my *** handed to me
or maybe I beat up an *******!
no probably the former
I can't fight for ****

My head is killing me
part hangover
part concussion

I should probably call somebody
help fill me on what the hell happened last night
Aw **** where the hell is my phone?
wait where the hell is my wallet?!

Well ****... ****** memory, comatose stranger in my bed, ripped jeans (although I'm 73 percent sure they came this way), missing a shoe, glitter hands, black eye, sore head, no phone, and no wallet

I ******* love saturday nights

There is probably some grand ideal I am protecting
what it is I do not care to know

Survived another Year
Amongst the ruin of a stranger's land
With the dusty roads, exuding those waves of heat
A sandstorm blowing in from the east
as a War song echoes in the west

I am Blinded by Rage
Though I am glad I do not see

Throughout this ordeal
The mask of Patriotism has fallen off
But I am truly free here
Far from the Home of the Brave

I stand here with bruised fists
and a battered face
With scars on my back
and a smile that isn't whole
Fighting the Good Fight

I stand here
To express my gratitude to War and Conflict
For Blood is Gold
and I am Ready to Bleed

I wake up.

I go to my window.

The Sun is out.

But not For Long.

The Smog is Creeping in.

That ****** toxic cloud.

Filled with poison. Filled with Sadness. Filled with Pain. Filled with Destruction. Filled with Anger. Filled with Loss.

Full of Fear. Full of Hurt. Full of Death. Full of Worry. Full of Hate. Full of Darkness.

The Wonders of the World are gone and have been replaced by the trillion terrors.

The Sun is out, But the Smog is rolling in.

So I walk. I walk.

I am Outside Now and I see That ****** Cloud slithering in front of that beautiful sun.

And I breathe. I inhale the ugliness. The Branches of my Lungs begin to wither as that cloud invades my body. I breathe and I breathe, never exhaling. My eyes begin to tear. My body becomes weak.

But I keep breathing. I breathe for my brothers, for my sisters, for my fathers, for my mothers, I Breathe.

I breathe for my sons and for my daughters. I breathe for all. I breathe in the disgust so they don’t have to. So they NEVER have to.

I choke.

And as my body becomes a shell and my soul decides to depart. My Brothers, My Sisters, My Fathers, My Mothers, My Sons, My daughters, they breathe in to me.

They give me purity and strength through air that has never tasted so sweet.

They bring me back and they carry me inside where I lie down next to my wife, next to my husband.

And I sleep.

With a Smile on My Face.

The scent lingers

The dreams bleed
Spiraling out of control

Left to salvage the remnants of something that once was

Forgotten photographs dead in the ash

Abandoned and left on the path to hell
The gates are up ahead

Let us Rebel… It’s for a Good Cause
I Promise

Let’s cause some Minor inconveniences, but nothing too Crazy; I’m Terrified of prison.
Let’s start a Fight because being a Pacifist is Boring.
We'll take great leaps forward because skipping backwards is harder than it looks.

And when our Knuckles are Bloodied, our speech Slurred and our jeans are Ripped.

When the world is spinning

we’ll ride off into the Sunrise
Because the Sunset is too Cliché.

This City of Sin
full of ****** and thugs
full of rapists and addicts
What one sided deals are being made in the darkened alleyways?

This land of *** and violence
is where Killers and Kings reign
the blood of the weak tinge the black asphalt a deep crimson
No smiles to be found here in this sanctuary of shame

Bruised fists and swollen faces
Broken noses and bullet wounds
Knives stuck between ribs

No prisons or precincts
Only streets and avenues

Lit by a pale moon and low gray clouds
These aren't buildings that litter the city
these are walls of filth
that support this rotting carcass I call home

Let something false fly forth from your lips
For this honesty is getting too brutal for me to bare

Mouthful of venom

There is a twisted beauty amid this wreckage
Where diamond tears are being mined
Leaving a glistening trail of sadness and grief

The voice of an angel
speaking words of malice

I cannot take it
Though you won't have it

This fall is steep and long
It won't be long now until I hit bottom
I will hit it hard
and I will most certainly hit it fast

I was alive
when god died

I was younger
he was older

an optimistic kid full of dreams
a cynical man past his prime

I was alive
when god died

I was ready for anything
He stopped giving everything

Everything had meaning
We were nothing but specks

I was alive
when god died

I was growing up
He was growing tired

The days were long and wonderful
He made them shorter and nihilistic

I was alive
when god died

Look forward to the future
Looked at it with disgust

Not worried about the past
Reliving his glory days

I was alive
when god died

Do not live a life of have nots and what ifs
Of should haves, could haves, and would haves

A routine life is no life at all
So jump blindly into the void that is the future
And never look back

And with the loudening boom of a million voices scream at the face of uncertainty

Do not doubt us
For we do not doubt ourselves

We will be left smiling
Happy with the chances we took
the pitfalls we jumped
And the mountains we climbed

Do you see
the swirls in the smoke?
the pattern in the pavement?
the grit in the grime?
the compass on the clock?
the strokes in the sky?

I see them
I see them all

This city is alive

It speaks to you
All you have to do is listen

Let's dance
But be warned
I'll step all over your feet
Not on purpose though I swear
Teach me to be better
And maybe
Hopefully
by the end of the night
I'll dance with you
And you can walk without bruises

He kept trying to find the memories
of a world long passed
The fragments have become blurred

The Era before
An Age of Unity

But this world he finds himself in now
is one of isolation

Of what importance are half-forgotten pieces?
That are retained in the shattered walls of a broken man's mind
Of what significance are these recollections of a half-remembered time?