There it stands, arachnid shadows creeping down, its veins flow hidden, causing the grass to breathe.

A distant storm closes in,
it swallows the horizon, accentuating my trivialty .
I rest in solitude.

I make my way up the hill.
I can see the wind through the things that it moves, its power still dormant, demanding my respect.

As i get closer i can sense a force above me,
A blue marble spins and glistens in orange light,
i try desperately not to fall off.

Its almost too much to bare as i stretch out my hands.
In that instant i realise my eyes have been closed.

I hesitate to open them,
The vast atmosphere is now an ambience moaning low.
A deep chant reverberates inside.

I can feel Herculean walls towering to an ornate roof, and statues of gold staring into me, piercing my skin.

Never blinking, never averting their gaze, i have to see.

The hairs on my neck stand up and I ****** my eyes wide.

A cold breeze drifts in from my garden as rain drips off the tin roof.
I get up from my chair wiping my tired eyes.

I look out at the old tree from years past, but i see it for the first time.

As each moment passes in my life
And the end comes ever closer
I fail to see how my hourglass
Is running of the sand

You never know when it is
Or how long you have
You'll count the moments passed
But never the moments left

These many days on average
We tell ourselves every time
We never realize that the average
Is not how many for us

To be something in this life
To do something for this world
To find something brilliant
To reach somewhere in the end

Because any moment can be your last
Probably it is in today
Or a few days from now
The clock is ticking and time, running out

To be what you are to be
To understand what the complexity
Of the world, the universe
This is so little time

To be all that we can be
To do all that we can do
This is the only time we have
And it is not nearly enough

Why waste those precious moments?
Why ruin those amazing seconds?
Do what you want to do to be happy
And make use of this little time

Abed, dark, and at night,
In some God-ungodly
hour of morning.
There am I underwater,
Drowning,
watching stars explode.

                        Everything is
falling away.
                        Everything is
crumbling away.

Before me, my own life;
Out snuffs the candle,
Wax on the floor.
Burnt or unburnt
Eternities
Which do you prefer?
                        And what a difference
would it make?
                        I am one empty candle
all the same.

Everything is falling away,
                        Everything is falling away,
Out snuffs the candle
                        by whom I could not say
This is my candle –
                        — Just an empty candle, all the same!
And oh what a difference it’d make!
I’ll be dragged to the nothing whence I came!
Everything will crumble away
And the void will have its way.

It takes a lot to say nothing
I'm coming to find that my soul has been screaming my whole life
And I am just now able to translate its tongues
Into some sort of verbal *****
That a human could possibly understand
I have never felt like a true part of this socially structured civilization
I have never felt like a homosapien shaped by its surroundings, its perception
Instead I have felt like a source of energy that flows without molecular or even atomic ties to this universe
Confined to a physical form in a four dimensional realm
If you cleave away the ego, you can feel the infinite
I have so much more to say,
And I have struggled my whole life in finding things to say
That matter, that are relevant
And I've come to realize that my soul has been screaming my entire life
And I am finally able to translate the tongues
Into something meaningful to say.
You may not hear the divinity in the language I use
You may not feel the sincerity in my soliloquies
But I do, and my perception is what shapes my reality
And only I can save me, now
The selfishness in the selfless
And the hollowed out remains of the empath
I can't be the only one who hears this piercing noise?
And this sickness that runs through the planets veins?
The agonized cry of every species on the earth harmonized into the humming vibration some call the will of god
Our pain is ricocheting through the void we reside within
An echo chamber of screams
I do not believe in hell because it cannot get worse than this.
No, not this moment, you may have misunderstood
The progression of these moments will lead to an inevitable end
An end to end every beginning
I am not the only one who knows that the dead are just no longer physically present
I am not the only one who knows that humans are parasites
I am not the only one who can feel the agony of someone I have never come across
Simply because
Our souls all scream on a frequency
That only those who truly listen can hear.

Shake up your bones
And pluck your veins
In hopes for a rhythm,
or a melody.
The body is your medium
Between the mind of the soul
And the crushing reality
None of us can comprehend the same.
You can still find inspiration in rotting corpses-
Keep your tombstones to yourself.
The only things constant in life are change and death.
Invisible languages that only the mad can hear
Make them prophets in their own eyes,
And insane in ours.
My mother
Spoke to Lucifer.
She was dead before her body gave
Her eyes were shallow, empty
There is nothing
Like talking
To the soulless body
of someone
Who you gave you life.
I am haunted by the deceased.
They do not come in physical form,
They do not come in my dreams.
They do not come to bring me harm,
They do not come to bring me peace.
They come in spurts when my fingers
Set sail over the pages, or the screen,
They come into my words when I can't hear myself think.
I do not write for me anymore,
I write for ghosts.

There was a time
I opened my computer in highschool
Searching my browser for you-tube for the first time.
I opened the website for U2
The band.

It was not for another month I discovered the video search engine that is so engrained into our culture today.

I saw a 5 year old navigating you-tube today.
They were watching a cat be abused and giggling.

I wonder when curiosity died.
Perhaps after it killed the cat.

Where have you gone
You poor soul
My precious friend?
Without you
I am floundering
Wallowing
In a place that is not home
Please come back
I miss you and
Your strangeness
Your individuality
That so shook
The status quo
Now I am shaken
Broken
Empty
Without you

What am I doing in this wild world?
This wild life?
I want to be myself,
But apparently I am.
So why is my head so clouded?
My heart so diluted?
Chapter upon chapter,
I only feel lost and blind
Running through this wild life,
Always out of stamina
Out of the gumption
I need to be
Myself

Do you see the wreckage I walked out of
Braced myself, Fire Flame, Crash landing.
And the smoke of death has reached my flared nostrils
What is the less poisonous of two fumes?
One reeks of death, sadness and inevitability
of blood, tears and the pain of living.
The other smells of green ignorance
anaesthesia.
Take my pain.

So I, I took the path well taken, for I
didn't have the courage to look
at the broken bone jutting from my shin
Dull me, Numb me, Let me waste away in bliss
This existence is my bane, my plane crash.