The road is straight,
No curves, nothing is bent;
I only see what’s right in front of me.
Faster than sound,
I whistle the air;
Not a speck in my eyes,
I’m head to head with my demise.
Broke loose, now things are right;
I’m enjoying this, I’m sitting tight.
Nothing on my back is tied,
I’m on my final ride.
I grab my throttle hard,
the wind runs by my face.
I smell that…
That concrete set me free.
This is the moment that I seize;
I feel lika a guy
in late Alzheimer’s disease.
Nothing can save me now…
Salvation is not what I need;
I need to no more need a need.
Just let me fly in these last seconds of mine.
From the time I got in that womb,
this was the plan for me.
I was born, even then life was late for me;
I guess you can call that, destiny.
I smile now, knowing that
my legacy will not have the same destiny.
Live on my boys…
You make sense in all there is.
Dear ones I love,
both dead and alive;
See me now,
this is the way I want to go out.
I’m a free bird,
with black I am bred.
Devil, hear me;
I hope you are the one to greet me.
I wear it all,
All those shadows of misty past;
But I also wear,
warmth of pure future hope.
Truckman, don’t be afraid…
I’m sorry I’ll spoil your truck,
with my red cold blood.
You sirens back there,
thank you guys for singing.
I know you won’t get it,
but thank you for making me king.
Ahh…
Spread-wing raven, it flies over me.
You dear raven..
You are the last sight I see.
I’ll fly with you.
I spread out my arms,
I stand on my Harley;
“Get the beer ready,
Martin Luther, Pericles and Marley…”
What a sight to behold;
Those black wings amidst the sun.
Nothing can stop me now;
I am most filled with life.
I was the reaper most of the time,
but now I finished the line.
The scythe is on me,
it’s me who I reap last.
Welcome Mr.Mayhem…
Spread-wing raven, splat down on the ground.
My guts are all over around.
Now I finally caught up,
the end of my road.

The world around me casts its shadows over me.

Wanting it to be aware, the blemish on ***** flesh.

The wrench in the cogs.

Wrong. Displaced. Alien.

I am a danger in this place. All but eyes shrouded.

Staring longingly from the dark.

Knowing you see me.

Painted by numbers. With hate. With shame.

With strange curiosity of the other.

With understandable fear of loss.

Fear of alteration. The change of state.

I rumble alone, a calling out. Indistinct and alluring.

These words I speak and words I write, are for me.

I cannot be the me you see. This glass reflecting

me as a monster is weak when confronted.

In alleyways, with baseball bats. With knives.

Snide looks and textbook descriptions. Hurt,

maybe dead.

Though,

I still cannot be what you want me to be.

Sin at the edges. Revolution at the walls.

Only so long shall pass before we breathe

war cry deeply in our lungs.

And let it out.

hedonic adaptation
living, breathing an
idealized state

transparent powers
an aesthete with an
affinity for anarchy

shamelessly insinuating
fatal errors in identification
extraterrestrial *******
at the core of our unity
probing at a molecular level
damning the will to connect

a creative protest against
the artificial
daydreams bleach
inferiority complexes
and insight breaks through

dark and damaging
sacrificial secrets
thrusting toward the deep end
forgoing progress through
flawed perception

the bright light shining through
your self inflicted wounds
cannot be ignored