Being this way
They say
Is a natural occurrence
                               Certain
                               Predictable

     As when the path of
Worldly planets collide
              A shadow cast
              Upon the other
The dark eclipse
                                Inevitable

How does one soften
Such emotion
When its surface
             Is taught
Like the spine of an open book
                       Placed face down
For ease of remembrance

Fear has unraveled its roots,
in the dank soil of my soul.
This shadowed unknown agony,
lurks the dark country of my heart.
In places I would never dare go.  
A starless womb,  
from which black embryos of horror,
will be born.  

I launch prayers to the angels,  
but hell's laughter is wicked and loud.  

Dread.
Worse than being dead.

My soul has collapsed.
My heart and mind have no care.
Times of pain feel like small eternities,
stifling the air.
My soul, laying at the rock bottom,
entangled, strangled by the minutes, hours and days
that lapse.

My heart numbly persists to pump blood
rich with pain.
My mind teeters closer to the cliffs edge
of being sane.
I dream the sky opens with a slashing rain.

At my souls disaster scene,
people whisper of the minutia and mundane.
Fellow humans promise to help,
as they pray with might you never ask,
that you never step out of your lane.
Few in life take a stand,
step outside of their box of plans.

Born for the deep, it's easier to seek the shallow.
Lack of wonder for what's beneath.
They just  step over the carcass's of souls
scattered amongst despairs ever growing heap.

By the good grace of the gods, those who have dared to taint my face with a welt, shall receive divine punishment - and not by those who are deemed mighty high above or the denounced who dwell at a plane below mantle and core. But by me, solely me, without maledictions or the intangible, me. Smote by my might. I am not a dictator, nor a man filled with ill-intent, though my words will be carved upon stone and actions dignified in blood. For me to be assaulted in such a haphazardly manner. As a conclusion to you actions know that death is your prometheus, death to your people, death to your land, death to your cattle. My violence exceeds the confines of your cranium, in a similar fashion my anguish extends across the lands; it will agonisingly, crucifying in arduity, mundane if it has to chase and chastise you to the proverbial end of the world. So, to whatever omnipotence you pray to (or do not), it is futile, you will be reprimanded and dealt with promptly, death to all those you love, death to the vermin you shelter in your home by the vignette oil-lit-lamp and the capacious pillow you so pompously lay your head. -

death to you.

Familiar was the squawk of dawn's happy choir.    
A cheerfulness so potently dire.    
When daily suffering is inescapable    
Anguish does not discriminate or label.    
A man's belly, barren of bread, aches in pain.
An ache the same,
As the obsession to be desired by the vain.    
To the blacksmith of thought, we are the tool.    
The mastery of thought is the saving rule.

Faded stains of bourbon
dot her nightstands’ weathered surface
like stars speckle the midnight sky

Each impediment commemorates
a symbol of courage
to help forge another day

Bras, slippers, heels, and flats
pepper the carpet
each a reflection of impediments
that fleck her soul

Harbored distortions from her past
forgiven by those she harmed
forgotten by others
fester within her frontal lobe.

Rain pelts upon the window
rat-tat, rat-tat against the panes
repetitive sounds that fling open her mind
to let today’s downpour
splash away
every trace of her anguish