Ten million bombs,
In an organism,
Single of cell.

The nucleus becomes nuclear,
The ironic cliche.
Instructions to life is unclear,
Resurrection per touch'e.

The ground breaks and falls away,
Supernatural universe all around you,
Leading yourself away,
Venomous vapor clouds you pass through.

Written texts whisper secrets,
"They're secrets for none exist to hear it!"

Ink fills the veins in challenge,
Blood carresses the paper before you,
Eyes stare in mallace,
Rebellion is the potential in truth,

The light dims as you suffocate the beautiful lie.
Thirteen dice becames synchronized with your soul,
Chances are you will die,
Before your art feeds your home.

As sad as this is,
It brings us boundless joy.

From the darkest possible chasm,
Ascends our Chrystal-Rift ******.

It's dark tonight
And I cannot breathe
The hands of time
Are slowly choking me
Tick Tick
Watch the color
Fade from my face
Tick Tock
Watch my body
Fall through space
Caught inside
These hands of time
Losing my grip
Losing my mind
Tick Tick
Why can't I see
What these hands
Want from me
Tick Tock
I'm fading fast
This life is just a memory
That can never last

Naughty Nice

*Her skin glows like the Grapes,
My yearning heart rises to your piano voice
and leaps like a dog at the whisper of your name,
Annie, my naughty Nice.

The evening ascends in on a great sparrow wing.
I am calmed by her tight fitted Blue Jeans
that  image I will carry into the twilight of the Rommel beams,
which hold next to my legs.

I am filled with hope that I may dry her tears of fear
As my arms falls from her blouse,
it reminds me of our secret house.

In the hushed, I listen for the last chain of the spring.
My heated face leaps to her summer dress.
I wait in the crystal moonlight in our secret place,
so that we may jump as one, face to face,
in search of the glorious yellow and spiritual glass of love

You can hear them
Can't you?
The shaking of my shackles
The inmates moans and cackles
Its almost time
For us to get out
To make people scream and bones splinter and crack!
I'll be free! Free from this prison that they locked me in! The voices can speak for me!
On our ****** and merry

Hallows eve!

Because music geekdom was one of my life choices
I've found i can get attached to voices
Not the ones in my head, for inside i still remain dead
But the accent, the catch before you get emotional,
Sticks to my waxed ears like used lotion so
I miss voices at times, if those i care of mostly,
So i try to imagine that voice coursing through my head so softly
Wobbly is my memory, so i hold on to everything that i can
But hearing those special voices again, thats a happiness no one can plan

I'm seeking fulfillment and purpose and a job if i can find one that's worth it
For sure it's not easy to remain vigorous and happy in face of things that make you queasy and not to sound sappy
But maybe if the sun came out then i wouldn't feel so ******,
because i feel out of place like a straight hair where every other  strand is curled and *****
But what if i started feel good inc, and manufactured happiness to the masses I'll make a killing like a colorado grass grower, maybe then I'll show them that
You can make money doing anything under the right circumstances but my chances are slim for that ever happening like Wayne Gretzky not wearing 99 on the ice

Or maybe, just maybe, we could all spread some love outside