Who is it
That lit the first flame,
On the darkest night,
Of our final day?

Who is it
That committed a heinous sin-
As the destruction of our humanity
Laid curse to all our kin.

What might become of us
As we walk blindly into darkness?

Will we redeem our begotten souls,
Or leave our redemption to the tales of old?

What burdens shall we carry?
How many millenniums will it take?
Will we succumb to our suffrage-
Or fulfill our forgotten fate?

They say it was long ago
That we crafted the glory of the gods
Stripped souls built their thrones
As we lay hollow, and broke

Dante traveled through the echelons of the afterlife
And returned with tragic tales of our irrefutable eternity
Whether we lay to waste in the River Styx
Or exist solemnly in our blissful ignorance

We conceived poetry, and literature
The likes of which the world had never seen
We told stories of prophets and fiends
All to detail our enigmatic intrigue


Unbeknownst to us we betrayed ourselves
Separate stories became separate beliefs
Bearing swords, we wrought bloodshed
Payment for prejudice, collected by grief

We led crusades, and jihads
As death of men reeked in the fields
Children were taught love, and affection
Years later, we sent them armed to the battlefields

Prophets practiced *******
Politicians purged families for power
The poor became mindless and meek
The covetous grew stronger,
as they overpowered the weak

The tales of our dreaded destiny disappeared
As our humanity crumbled before us
Our dilapidated divinity was lost to the ages
And heaven and hell, left quietly at a cusp

Perhaps we should pray, just one final time
And reach out to the heavens
For our humanity is dying...

Our beloved father, are’t thou still in heaven?
Might we still utter thy hallowed name?
Might thy kingdom come-
And your will be done?

The forsaken are many
And the gates of hell are unleashed
The oceans have turned to acid
And the earth crumbles beneath our feet

Will you forgive us our lord?
For the sins we have made?
Are we still redeemable?
Or will we succumb to the shade?

All remained quiet, for so long, we waited on his word
But the stories were stories,
and I suppose that’s all they really were.

tonight, my last night is calm and quaint
the crickets cry to the sound of moonlight
as the clear twilight sky begins to fade away
an hour from now the stars will die
and the world will be painted
in a brilliant array
like a Da Vinci painting
or a Mozart symphony
I cant help but remember the golden days
filled with chaos and fear
they bore beauty and triumph
and recollect as masterpieces
tenfold by every year
but the moment of living is different
it's not something we can understand
we only love the moment
once it has slipped our feeble hands
so this time I must capture it
before I commit to my sudden end
and prevent my last nostalgic moment
from torturing me
ever again

i sit in front on my grandfathers shop
where he collects and cuts his butchered meat
i patiently wait in the dusk of sunlight
soaking up the last droplets of summer heat
deep mountain woods grow with the darkness
as the scarlette sky turns to night
and the stars come out; and the crickets cry
i hold a rifle in my hand, but out of sight
my grandfathers cigarette smoke fills the air
cold steel laid softly, as i breath as little as i can
tomorrow i’ll be dreaming of this moment now
without any care, without any plans

Loneliness is an empty road
A thousand miles of the past behind you
And an infinite sea of nothingness ahead
Walking is the only choice you have
Backwards is your safest bet
But what if you go forward instead?
Loneliness is staying awake at night
Coming home to have nothing to do
Laying around the house
Wishing there was someone to talk to
Praying you might be invited
To spend a night out on the town
With all the friends from the past
But every time you check your phone
You’re just let down
Loneliness is being quiet for too long
Wishing you could open your mouth
To share the endless thoughts
To spill pure emotion from your lips
To explode with excitement in the best way
And to see the expression on the faces
Of people that care about what you’re saying
But there’s no one to say these things to
There’s no one to hear a word
It’s an endless isolation ahead of you
So for now, you go unheard

pain is death’s right hand man
a claw that digs into your skin
the death of a loved one
or even a friend
they lower them into the ground
and you know
you’ll never see them again
pain is crying all night
your heart tearing apart
wishing the sunlight
never shone on your heart
killing time in the park
writing poems about death
trying to understand her
with the taste
of a last cigarette on your breath
is god gonna save me?
will i fly up to the depths
of heavens gentle angels
or will i just disintegrate
becoming ash and dust
like the rest?

the coming of autumn leaves
as orange comes from green
and falls from the trees
to decompose on the frozen ground
the sound of a last breath
releasing its grip on life
that was kept for days too long
death is a cold woman
with her subtle gentle touch
you see it in the glazed over eyes
of the dead men in a battlefield
bleeding out into the earth