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Alec Maskrey May 2018
Hidden behind masks
Hidden behind shadows
Our trials and tribulations
Are shown in writing
Other times nothing else matters
  But to be happy
As life is short
And there is no room not to cultivate the seeds
Of our pain
Into something beautiful
So that the world will one day pick the flowers of our pain
And will both rejoice and mourn
For life has brought us great pain.
Though from pain
  Beautiful fruits are ripened and presented to the world
Alec Maskrey May 2018
To love first love yourself
                                   To conquer first conquer yourself
               To survive first survive yourself  
                                            To be kind first be kind to yourself.
Sometimes we are too ******* ourselves. Failure, regrets, and mistakes are all a part of life. Our relationships with ourselves (I believe) largely determines the quality of our relationships with others and how we handle negative situations.
Alec Maskrey May 2018
Blood comes down like heavy rain
A creature steps out of the innocence of man
Singing and dancing to our death rattles
Veil of virtue hides its wicked ways
As we play its’ anthem
With our roaring instruments
Burning the world as we go
Performing on stage
Or watching the show

Blood flows like a river
Where many lambs are brought to slaughter
Sacrificed for a creature
That wears a holy veil
From which it hides its’ smile
And laughs as these ignorant and blind few
Spill the blood of the innocent lambs
Brought to slaughter
Because they would not become this creature

The creature laughs, smiles, dances and sings
To the chorus of their bloodshed
And the trembling of the lamb
Who did nothing wrong
Except to be alive
Shakes the earth in terrible shudders

Inside its shell, the creature waits
Where no one can see
Listening to our deadly symphonies
As the hate rises.

On its throne
It rules the world
Tempting the heart of man
Laughing as it goes
Leading the lamb

Astray

While confused angels watch
And its’ minions amuse
It will never be sated with our blood
Not even when the world is a crimson ocean

But for the lost lamb there is hope:
A shepherd to lead it safely
On its way, its way home
Too many wayward lambs have left their shepherd
To run into the jaws of this repugnant creature
I pray their Sheppard will find them soon...
Alec Maskrey May 2018
To the Dancer:

Though our dance was brief
I’m happy to have danced it with you.
Though our time spent was short
I cherish every moment.
Though we may never dance again
My heart is not sore
Nor is my face weeping.
Because my soul knows that it is blessed to have known yours
And to have but only one dance in the
Fleeting moments of life
Brings to it an abundance of
Everlasting happiness
That permeates its entire being.

I was lost in our destructive dance.
So ignorant of the consequences.
That I did not see the one thing done wrong.
Among a million things done right.
But to say that I regret having danced with you.
Would be far from the truth.
My soul is happy to have done this waltz.

My pain is brought through the pain of another.
Brought upon himself by his aching heart
Because we danced this dance.
And lost ourselves in a moment of bliss.

So now we dance
But not together
Alone.
To give me a chance to right these wrongs
And rebuild bridges that were burnt down
In our fiery dance.

Oh, dear dancer
Our time on the dance floor
Is done.
But only for a moment
My soul is still happy despite it all.

Young men don’t need pardons
For the desires, we give into
So, dear dancer
If we should meet again
Please, save the last dance for me…
Alec Maskrey May 2018
Blood, blood, blood
Drips the colour red
They who have killed all gods
Save themselves
Drowns the masses in silent waves
Those who do not mourn the loss
But give thunderous applause
To the slaughter of themselves

Those who are free in body
Are chained in mind
Yet know nothing of their shackles
They Shoutout
Glory! glory! Glory!
While they themselves are slaughtered.
Their blood fills the streets
For the colour red still reigns
And ignorance remains.

They who have killed God
Worship themselves.
While others do the same,
And shout out
Death! Death! Death!
This beast they have tried to tame
Only grows.
Though still the red river flows.

Now the beast outnumbers them
But they themselves do not know that they are the only monsters
And the beast is innocent of blood.
Torn apart yet still growing
They cannot stop the beast.
For it is good and they are evil.
The beast primeval.

They who shout out
Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!
Have turned the prayers into prey.
And kneel before new gods
For the one killed for them
They refuse to serve
Driven by lust
And void of trust.

Now they have come to the final place
Their river has become an ocean
The prayers are slain
And the colour red reigns.

— The End —