All armies are the same
Publicity is fame
Artillery makes the same old noise
Valor is an attribute of boys
Old soldiers all have tired eyes
All soldiers hear the same old lies
Dead bodies always have drawn flies

Monsters
They’re scary
Some are in the closet
Some are under the bed
But you want to know a secret?
The scariest monsters
Are in our heads

I wonder how I've ended back up in this position
dependant on not just a chemical or two, but
dependant on the love of a person
You see, I was not born a human, nor have I lived as one,

I'm used to the beauty of the darkness, for in dark places
beautiful flowers grow, but it takes eyes
shadowed in darkness for decades to see them
and to pluck them, one needs a still heart
that no longer beats with the rhythm of a living being

that darkness has shaped my world, shaped my mind
yet in her voice, her words, and her love
I've found myself slipping from that place
being pulled into one in which I do not know how to live
Here there is light, and sights to be seen
with eyes practiced to the sun

I used to believe the universe whispered to me
and maybe it still does, it's just that it's been so long
since I've listened, that its song is distant
raw, and uncaring

You see the universe is lonely,
that's why it turned into you, and into me,
to be embraced with it's own warmth
to embrace itself in its own desire,
what a simple thing we endeavor, is it not?

By becoming creatures bounded in time, and space,
we've forgotten our true self and along with it
the wellspring of love that created us,
now we seek it, although in lesser forms,
experiencing it with only a few
and the upper casts of beings know this,

Somewhere deep in our subconscious we also understand, and we know that we've forgotten it.

It's just that demons have embraced darkness, and a total absence of love, while we try to fill ourselves with small glimmers plucked from flowers that grow in the sun.

Demons, on the other hand, pluck flowers that grow only in the darkness, and those flowers have power over mortals, they will call to thee and under their spell, you will dream dreams meant for only devas, asuras, demons, and spirits.

This nectar is not meant for humans, yet in our arrogance, we reach for their stock and supply,
and with it we compose beautiful songs and paint beautiful shapes, we piece together majestic art and music that can open the mind, bend it, twist it, and mold it in ways from which it can never retreat.

We create,
Things that even devas desire,

We create,
Things that even demons devour,

But to us humans these things are toxic, they are too much, and we become lost to them.
Such that we call madness is a consequence of reaching too deeply into the well of knowledge with an unbalanced, ignorant, distracted, and frail mind, and in doing so, we forsake everything for the pitifullest glimpse of eternity.

In that place; only gods and asuras may roam freely; humans, on the other hand, are far too greedy,
far too curious, far too ignorant, and far too dangerous to possess such knowledge.

We should stick to light plucked from flowers growing in the sun,
because those flowers which grow in the darkness will only lead to our damnation, the conclusion of our race, and the manifestation of something far more terrible than any of our myths ever suggested.

Watch me as I fall
without you.
I've spent years
perfecting this dark energy;
you are not the first
to leave me longing.
Watch closely.
I can build a statue
from ashes,
inhabit order
surrounded
by chaos.
Watch as I consume,
without myself,
myself.
I can fall,
but I cannot fail.
Watch.
You only scratched
the surface
of who I was
and am,
but you let loose this
agony -
my flood,
my fuel.

Lying embedded in velvet gloom and night,
You and I are gazing up the northern hemisphere.
Within the sea of darkness is the stars' stained light.

Hidden inside the fabric of interstellar space,
Might be a kind of universal truth
That answers all the questions of human race.

Sensing the pull of the universe
I feel like we're lost between the infinite vastness
That none of us could ever dream to traverse.

Suddenly you get up on your knees -
Head in the sky and feet on the ground.
“Perhaps the stars only made us feel lost,
because we both wanted to be found.”

In visions of the dark night
  I have dreamed of joy departed—
But a waking dream of life and light
  Hath left me broken-hearted.

Ah! what is not a dream by day
  To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
  Turned back upon the past?

That holy dream—that holy dream,
  While all the world were chiding,
Hath cheered me as a lovely beam,
  A lonely spirit guiding.

What though that light, thro’ storm and night,
  So trembled from afar—
What could there be more purely bright
  In Truth’s day star?

1277

While we were fearing it, it came—
But came with less of fear
Because that fearing it so long
Had almost made it fair—

There is a Fitting—a Dismay—
A Fitting—a Despair
’Tis harder knowing it is Due
Than knowing it is Here.

They Trying on the Utmost
The Morning it is new
Is Terribler than wearing it
A whole existence through.