I haven't written at length for a long time now and my maelstorms are worse. I haven't written for my heart and the protest inside has reached a crescendo of violence. The dam is at its limit and I am the explosion waiting inside. My conductor has quit and the orchestra has lost its sanity, timbral destruction and cymbal apocalypse. I watch helplessly the drowning flutist and the bleeding pianist. Whale song rings in my ear all the time, and I am tired of this dismembering dissonance. My nostrils flare in the polluted river and the acid water has reached my lungs. They burn with the intensity of jealous stars and pull me in like black holes. Sometimes the heat is too much and the cold offers nightmarish dreams of death. So I bear the burden of two jackets soaked in ice water. My teeth, eyes and nails feel like they might fall into my food and I won't have the energy to even care for self-cannibalism. The church has fallen on our heads and my life is frothing at the mouth. The madness is finally settling in, violently setting up camp in my soul. My veins pulse rhythmically like the drums in a System of a Down song.

Father why have you forsaken me?

In your eyes forsaken me.

In your thoughts forsaken me.

In
your
heart
forsaken
me.

Steel forged
Iron claws driving this metal machine
Its cogs well oiled and disciplined
Carrying a burden with it as it falls from the grace of goodness...
To build
To restore
To unite
Now determined to destroy
It waits in hunger
Salivating....
Its hardened eyes surveying each square mile of its meal...
man has concocted its demise
It has given, by right, its soul to a need
This machine is the heart of all men...
Men who fear darkness wherever it lurks
Yet harbor its hideaway within the depths of their own soul...
Men who have saw fit to give birth to a creature of such disastorous belonging
And so it toils
Sweat, blood, and oil

Rare metal doesn't substantiate
The substance within
Just as the height of a skyscraper is not the sky
But instead
Be just as you say you are
And am