Let dos and don'ts prevail
Where man cannot decide,
Remove the uncertainty veil
And put instincts aside

And build a concrete fence
Between all right and wrong
For the sake of social rules and hence
For the sake of pitiful us all.

And let us grow less human,
Robotically designed,
With obvious solutions,
Uncertainties consigned...

Show me the spine of morality
And give me a choice to make
For who am I, if not a gambler
Playing on fine ethics edge?

I jumped through billion hoops to get reaction
Yet, through getting it I achieve no satisfaction
The malfunctioning brain brings pain
To my lackluster stumbles through life, filled with strain
And though I try to maintain a facade of "alright"
In this tunnel, it's harder and harder to see any light

Fight back, fight back for the heck of it
Spit, blood and sweat for spilled for the lit of it
Like check your own pulse to make sure you are still alive
Like challenge yourself to not dare to feel deprived

At this moment, I dare to ponder
Of this nihilistic nightmare, am I the founder?

Try along these sacks for proof of feral merriment,
in stilled eyes and on carnal graves. All whose rotting
limbs are well studied in 'ologies of human squander-
Red with laughter, plucked with all caving souls and
anger. Gasping, so, with lewd amusement of the dead
in jest.

Muspelhiem froths forth with cold hearts, lusting of
mortal slaughter. I've seen the men whose vial looks a
barrel‒ whose foaming mouths, birthed-stillborn of
Sheol and all it's unebbing horrors, can't restrain the
joy of culling. Hate creation‒ worship crude insemination,
ravished toward the making of wilful immolation.  

But what casket of pleasant delirium, brings deaths to
child's eyes‒ no wars of misfortune must be ******
of a playful kind. Hecatombs, artistic as day‒ homes
like Tophet for children to play. But whose poison
to **** me sooner, under Black Suns and darkened
hearts, as Lucifer capers down the burrow.

When I was knee high to nothing
I asked inquisitive questions...

And with those answers I became me..

I would want too, if now, I asked the question??

If you are which you say? why so many books!!

If reality was based, wouldn't one book suffice,
But you made conflicting interests, like baiting
a hook. Why do we have to be slaves to ourselves
always begging on knees. To those of confused
reflections seeing you in themselves, but all the time
wording it to make them hate, difference of man
and woman others not he same as me?
but you conflict with love and preach the other thing.

If I was to ask one thing?

"Were grown now, out of the cradle of insecurities,
"Are hand needn't be held, were stronger without you,
*"I am me, not a reflection of your confused morality,

The world is not only
The shining right light of white
And the depraved dark depths of black

I won't even go on
About the moral grey shades in between
Mottled like a city pigeon's tail feathers

Because there are
Royal eruditious blues
Mischievous swirled jades
Passionate scarlets
Playful tangarine oranges
Inoccent pastel yellows
Regal deep reds
Mysterious deep purples
Curious robin egg blues
Righteous yellow oranges
Tranquil summer greens
Bubbly social pinks
Patient shades of indigo
Cautious neon colors
Pure-hearted golds
Clear minded silvers
And ultraviolets of feelings yet to be defined

And if I'm looking at the world
I want to see it in full spectrum

You equate me to a murderer
Because I smoke some cigarettes
I guess we'll all be down in hell
While you play harp in winged quartets.

Sure, I reach for stars just 'cause they burn
my soul's a maze so I can hide
I've scrambled "god" with "****" and "****"
Each day my head and heart collide

But art's knowing when to break the rules
And life is art, so do the math
You think I'm just a 'talking corpse'
'Cause I reject your 'purer' path?

I'm a mess but that's just fine
You live your way I'll live mine
But tell me how you can define
The One True Way to live?
When you look at minor heresies
and can't even forgive?

Candlelight is romantic, unless
you're in a dungeon.

Context changes everything.

Context makes you look down
at the bridges you build and realize
they are plywood: thin, cheap, but
soggy enough from this rain that
they're impossible to burn.

Realism is a myth. Everyone has a lens.

People believe what they want to believe,
or they believe the worst. Sometimes they
alternate, tense and relax at all the wrong
moments, a sigh of relief before the crime
has been committed.

Everyone loves a hero until they are up
against them.

The unforgivable becomes forgivable
in the right context, ****** as self-
defense, or in war. Fear and arousal
provoke identical symptoms in the body.
Sometimes the boundaries bleed together.

Sometimes ethics surrender in the face
of love.