I will rise again
Though I'm buried
In the the depths of hell
Alone and rejected
Lonley and isolated
My heart is broken
And mind is heavy
I may have lost
Buy I'm not yet defeated
.
But I will rise again
I'm wandering these streets
Keeping my head down
My cerise eyes can't stare
And I want to run
Far away from here
To live a soulful life
.
I will rise again
Like I always do
There's a fire in my heart
That won't burn out
My storm is still wild
No one can calm it down
I will fail again
And I will rise again
I will rise again

the poem is like leaf
whose time is to quickly up.
first a thing in the timber
of me. soon comes the green breach,
and never where i expect.
though i will it to the light,
as a parent for offspring,
the bud pops up wart-like,
in the dim, crowded belly
of a semi lit thicket,
a herniated idea.
malformed and unfurled it falls .
i'll love it anyway.

Your life knows no answer
When you spend your nights
By the sea- beaming your woes to the
Sympathetic waves of reality.

You try to ponder on the future
That was securely balanced on the
Wings of a fallen Angel. But her feathers have shedded black and she
Lives in an obsidian fable.

Do you remember? Under the November Luna which lit an ambience on those reckless lips;
Which still had the repelling aroma of beer and strong spirits.

But just for now- let's meld- become one with the Night Deity, banquet our fates and lost hopes on the false promises of our doomed reveries.

I'll gift you the white feather, the silver and striped pelts of your savagery. I'll pleasure you by saying nothing...

...but you can work out the rest. The demise of your damsels in distress.

So after you have finished feasting on the succulent hearts of your romantic, haughty slaves- you are no longer welcome to the tribe of the brave.

It is not a sin, nor a taint of reputation;
Oh, it is an act of naivity and damnation. I submit, I'll be your green-eyed monster.
But I cannot succumb to resent forever.

So my life knows no answer
But atleast I will thrive through the thick, smog of your lies and fallacious treasures.
Go back to your rakish zoo, your spirits, your hallucinations:
Sink back into your vast carelessness.

But as for me, I will be born back into the sanguine wilderness


And lurk in the umbra.

You scale the mountain,
weighed down with reluctant chains.
Though you gain confidence,
each rock, each failure, a reminder of pain.
You could end it, leave the trail and go home,
the thoughts of base camp haunt your brain.
Others on that journey assist,
give emotional shift,
and you'll know it was never worth staying.

Ooh maybe I hate this life
A little more than I should
Maybe one day I'll stop,
reaching for unrealistic dreams
And make something good
Maybe I'm starting to believe
That what you will is what you could
You can reach for stars
Dream for fast cars,
Hope that you can
create a large buzz

I'm levitating in subconscious dreams
Nothing is ever really what it seems
There's a deeper meaning underneath
If you take the time to see
You'll see there is more to me
Then my silly little acts
And my mildly tasteless jokes
Sometimes there's a thought
That I can provoke

I'm anchored far from shore
Beneath ocean tides
I lay dormant in the water
I feel a breath on the rise
I need a little space
In an overcrowded room
Sick of feeling lost and confused
Trying to remember faces
That I've never seen
Who are you?
Can you see the truth?

I'm levitating in subconscious dreams
Nothing is ever really what it seems
There's a deeper meaning underneath
If you take the time to see
You'll see there is more to me
Then my silly little acts
And my mildly tasteless jokes
Sometimes there's a thought
That I can provoke

Is there something you can't feel?
Are you still deciding what is real?
Are you lost in a song
That you don't understand?
Sometimes it feels like I am
I'm still chugging along
Because I think I can
Make fantasy my reality
In my head, I'm a dreamt up mess
Cursed not blessed
I can't give in for this

I'm levitating in subconscious dreams
Nothing is ever really what it seems
There's a deeper meaning underneath
If you take the time to see
You'll see there is more to me
Then my silly little acts
And my mildly tasteless jokes
Sometimes there's a thought
That I can provoke

©2017 Written By Benji James

They are the masters,     the thousand failed ways,
knowing what is best,     knowing what is not.