I bleed my resistance,
But you will never bend my knees.
I will not come with you.
You will not take me.
I will lie, defiant,
Hunched in the dark
Until I bleed my last.
And breathe no more.
You will not drag me,
Bedraggled
Into the maw of hell,
Or into hedonistic heaven.

I will fight,
Until my blood runs empty.
And as I lay in the dust,
Numb and hollow.
I will have beaten you
One last time.

Trapped as the mime,
Inside four walls.
You scream,
A frightened sobbing scream,
Echoing back to you.
As the sound devours,
And the conscience does not forgive
The foolishness of your hedonism.

The hurt comes,
From Soul and Hand.
But mostly from the absence of pain,
Rendering you rictus.
Curled up, nestling away
From cushioned, leisurely survival.
Nothing to despair in,
Save from the confections of your head.

Sanguinem animarum.

You tell me I am not myself,
Yet can you tell me who I am?
Perhaps who I was and will be
Are two entities divided
by a sea of sorrows.

I will seek my answer,
When the war inside my soul
Brings forth it's manifestation
In flesh and blood.

From my captive being
Where nestled melancholy,
Can rush forth to battle.
And bring me peace again.

Let me awaken, again
For another last time,
Not wiser, but wounded
One turn closer.

Bring me peace.

Where did you go, my love, my freedom?
When did you become so enigmatic
Fleeing as my child spirit withers?
So many questions had I for you,
Before you left me, cold and downcast.
Looking into the mud at my feet.
Denied the shimmering sky above me.
Why is it so, that I am trapped,
Among the odious weeds of some sea
Where unspeakable realities grab my ankles,
When all had promised it would not be so.

I feel trapped tears now,
Upon my trapped soul.
And cannot cry for want of a shoulder.
I cannot weep my words truly onto page,
For they emerge weak and corrupted,
Manifestation of my incompetence
I cannot stand my foolishness,
For they once told me I had knowledge.
They did not tell me true.

As the follower sheep,
Send forth their crooked emissaries.
To bend the goodness,
with a sinister sickening voice
I fold my arms,
Inside my head,
And stare you down.
My eyes will burn.
My look will unsettle.
The more you try,
The more resistant I become
To following you.

You may hold your belief dear,
And it may comfort you.
But know this, If it comforted me,
I would be by your side,
And not opposite You.
Showing the wrath of the proselytised.

I feel the fire of awakening,
Blazing behind my eyes.
But I shall sleep now,
And let it wash over me
To purify.
As the evil is repulsed,
Like black oil from water
banished from my being.

In the morning,
I shall rise,
And I shall fight you.

So long asleep,
But now I see me.
In the sand where I was left,
Awake under the suns glow.

So long thirsting,
But now I throw
Myself, head first,
into a cool clear oasis.

My mind feels clear
And like so many times before
I want this to be true.