Walked down to the river at midnight -
Used to be terrified sneaking through that
Lampless village in the dark,
Could hear villains from a horror story calling,
Over the precipice of each passing garden wall.

But now I'm impervious,
Desensitised by hourly hauntings,
Which whisper that my adult brain itself
Is the spectre and the jangly skeleton,
That once lurked round those corners
And chilled my childish bones.

Crystal King, Prince of the dead lands.
Dead mind workers and slave hands.
Built on corrupted bones and dark magic confusion tomes.
Life thirsty wings glide on the damp air’s breeze.
Lower down, on the ground, paranoid characters stumble with unease.

Dark Pictures hang my minds walls.
As I stumble down endless corridor halls.
Searching for the source of the chaos at hand
Deathly doom, I can feel it all across the Crystal King’s land.
One crystal ball at the center of it all.

With the swirling air and fogged glass bare.
Within one sees the dreams that one believes.
Controlling it all from a mountain top.
Powerful and forgetful, the lord never sees.
The infinite love in a single speck of dew on a leaf filled tree.

I have a secret
I can do it again
Peel my skin back
To reveal my bones that rot like fruit

I can do it again
Let my lies open like shells
To reveal my bones that rot like fruit
Feel me and pray for my release

Let my lies open like shells
Kiss my wounds, wrap me up
Feel me and pray for my release
I am nothing but this skeleton

I have a secret

Use rusty scissors
to cut open your skin.
That skin bag is too hot,
too constricting.

But once you step out of your flesh
you feel coldness seep in to your bones.
You are a skeleton.
A dancing skeleton.

Twirl, dip, bow.
Dance your way across the stones
and in to hearts
that now miss you, strangely.

They call for you
but you ignore them.
The twirling skeleton keeps on twirling.
It twirls in to its own world.

We are bones. Us as the human race. we are bones covered in flesh. Different flesh, but we're still bones.
We look different, but we're still bones.
We sound different, but we're still bones.
We move different, but we're still bones.
We act different, but we're still bones.
Get it yet?
We are individuals, but underneath, we are bones.
We are the same. Equal.
Each of us are skeletons created by the same God, who personalized us according to His will.
All in all; we are replicated bones.

The tender warmth
Small kisses, just a taste?
Warmth begins to singe
Soft safety holds you down
Tearing at flesh
Grit, sand, dry- all overwhelm the senses
Skin peels away
Muscle burns to ash, blowing away in the wind
Skeletal contraptions, lurking.
Only one left.
Ribs cage what words could not
Concrete and cold
Nothing to Nothing.