my darling
you have
the most beautiful eyes

how i’d love
to pluck them
from out your fairest skull

and swallow them whole
so you can see
my inner demons

and i can taste
your tears
inside of me

Life was easy before
Loneliness.

There wasn't a
Void

To fill.

Life was easy before
Love;

There wasn't a
Heart

To break.

Life was easy before:

Jobs
Girlfriends
Money
Apartments
Friends
Death
Fading idols
Tickets
Debt
Anxiety
Genius
Bravery
Solitude
Freedom;

Life­ was easy before all of that.

Instead of a simple life
Our society bogs us down with
New things to make our leaves easier

But the truth still stands behind;
Lingering on doorsteps,
Behind the television set,
Underneath our persian silk sheets,
Even underneath the sidewalk
We walk upon to work.

The truth is still there,
With a blank stare,
Holding a smirk as old as time.

Gadgets gear us towards the idea of immortality
That we are the mighty Gods now
But all we need to be reminded of our dispensability
Is a little rain
A little shake
A little gust of wind
And our gadgets and selves will just wash away

Don't let me stray into those matters
Evolution always has me worried
Envy of not seeing man at their newest, their best
Holding the gates of my eyelids open
So to see the break of the waves blue white breast

Atonement in these times generously dispensed
But everyone remembers a face
The way the iron clad soldiers forget is through
Further ******, hoping to one day die themselves
To be truly forgotten is the greatest of miseries
Never having lived means to never have existed

Our footprints are getting wider
The trees sway further toward the ground
Exhaustion peels away at me
Like a babies hand would an orange
Barely standing, I go to work to make $50 a day

Expected to live and be grateful
Produces a laughter mixed with mad absurdity
Where are our heroes now?
On the screen? On the stage? In the field? Behind desks?
There is so much to be done and
When all is finished, the hands scabbed and the knees scraped
All of it will be in vain

Though, we can say we tried
Rather than sitting on our *****
Watching the clouds burst
And the swirls of sand form a tunnel toward God

Lizards prepare their feast
Buzzards rip the flesh from a fresh carcass
Dung beetles roll their wears to the holy land
And the hope of man breathes in and breathes out

One final time

Alone in a room,
Music slowly plays,
Songs of loneliness,
Songs of loss,
Yet songs of love.

Concealed in darkness,
Retreating from reality.
Every strums of the guitar,
Pulling me deeper and deeper

away

My eyelids close,
Allowing a tear out,

In darkness,
In blindness,
A disoriented, dark, slowly fading light, shines on.

A beacon of hope and sorrow,

Alone in the room.
Concealment in the dark
Quiet screams for help.

Life sure is a mystery...

One whistle of a wind,
I am on top of the world,
One drop of rain,
I am in a room concealed by dark.

The light shines in a dark room resistant,
Yet so futile.

A knock on the door remains ignored,
A child, once afraid of the dark, embraces it's warm concealment.

Absolute quiet as the guitar continues to strum.

Songs, oh the songs.
The sweet melodies.
Words that taste like nectar.
Notes that speaks to the very soul.

Just for one moment,
A song makes sense.
Nonsense becomes reality.

Have I finally gone mad?
Have I refuted reality?

My heart becomes darker and colder.
Yet I embrace it.

Slipping away

The knock becomes more anxious.
A voice pleading.

Slipping

Gone into the concealing darkness

The beacon of hope turns off.
The Lonely Light dies out,
The room is left dark.

Nothing to disturb this peace.
Pitch black and quiet.
Warm and alone in this room.

A Single Wish.

Slipping Away

Into Infinite Concealment of a Blank Room.

The door swings opens,
Shining the light of reality into the room,
Disturbing the sacred peace of the darkness.

But I am already gone.

*Slipped Away To A Better World

The world is full of
wanna-bes and
used-to-bes and
almost-wases.

And the world is crawling with
naysayers and
false speakers and
people who never speak at all.

The world will never run out of
cookie cutters and
fakes and
exact replicas.

But every once in a while,
if you're lucky, really truly lucky
you meet a dream catcher or
a dream weaver or
a dream creator.

And every once in a blue moon,
should all the conditions be right,
you meet someone who is not afraid.

Someone who will hang their feet
over the very edge of this dismal world
look down into the dark expanse
take your hand
close their eyes

and jump.

And that person, my dear,
is you.

~