Silenced
by a two-tongued tyrant
Who condemns with one flick
and licks the hand of hate
with the other
I shall never love
or find sister or brother
in the valley of silk scarves
wrapped around the root of creation
Deliver us Shiva
from the servants of dread Kali
Who don the mantle of civilization
but **** the faithful in the shadows
Oh foul deity of negativity
just once
please
show us who you are
Because your mask of kindness is broken
and the anger of your spirit
seeps out like a stealthy virus
Not bold and righteous
like the noble villain
But with a sheeps skin draped
over his foul devouring maw
If evil lurks and strikes
in the guise of the holy
Then you are greater than evil
A horror beyond the bounds
of acceptable wickedness.

The hand that once held
such divine power
trembles like a willow branch
weighed down by ice
and battered
by a rude gale
Pale skin
sun deprived
Only ever caressed
by the light of the moon
Have you seen the circles
underneath your eyes
Its no suprise
you threw away all your mirrors
so long ago.

Your vision is dying
before your eyes sweet prince
The corpses piled so high
the lime can't mask the stench
In twenty years time
you'll be the only one left
All your acolytes are liars
who serve only death
A pathetic crew
Now without its fool
The joke is on you
The fool was your best
But I'm sure
this warning will be ignored
Just like all the rest

Hickory dickory dock
can you hear
the ticking
tocking of the clock
This dented trumpet in my hand
it comes as a shock
I may be the last man standing
when the dust settles
on the chopping block
The pennant of pleasure
hangs limp
like the zipper pull
on the mask of a gimp
The strength of a lion
and yet the best
is a wimp
The man who will fall
second to last
is just a ****
Oh lawdy
I do believe
the fallen few
will adorn my breastplate
I will finally find love
in the rubble
of the ones who eat hate
its not too late
to create
to shove the last piece
of the puzzle
into place
Before
the judges decide
who won the race
I will report the results
in any case
I  must
the herald cannot rest
The end is
for him alone to face.

She was a razor
a transmission
a delicious purloined proscription
An upper
a roofie
I want a cup
of her ashes
in my pocket
She was a legend
a messiah
a golden lover
and a silver pariah
When I think
of all the faces I carved
into the soft surface
of my desire
I cannot decide
if it was her claws
or her prose
that made me ****
back my saliva
Even if she were to die tommorrow
she would always be
the soul survivor.

Drugged
dragged down
cut
cut down
clown without
his thorny crown
Just now
it came to me
There is nothing
beyond this moment
Everything that will be
is just a stubborn postponement.

The only true freedom
is a life devoid of love.