we
are somewhere
in the middle of punk rock and metal
you and I
as the metal rips through your thoughts
and opens your mind
to all that this chaotic universe is
outside of this tangible reality
those eternally burning stars
allow us to touch
then explode into oblivion
to a place where Lucifer and Jesus mingle
those serrated tones, they continue ripping through your thoughts
murdering anything disconnected from the balance of chaos
they nail your body to a cross across the universe
as you have asked to die
as you have sacrificed yourself
admiting to the need of a revolution
and this
is where your soul will forever lie
until the day you die
the vibrations of punk rock
form themselves into an infinite pack of wolves
and bite down on your skin
so you mosh and mosh
ripping yourself apart
for all who mosh around you
to feed on and join
their words
the teeth of wolves
dig into you
igniting the lost connection you once had
to the tangible world you live in
and as they continue to rip your flesh apart
until you have been torn down
to nothing but bones and organs
then left with a choice
to bark
or to howl and growl
as they beg your soul
to fight
for what you have always known is right
thousands of years ago
Plato spoke of shadows
of puppets
cast upon a wall underground in a cave
by a large fire
burning behind its viewers
warning us of being lead astray
by the warmth of a fire
we never turned around to see
yet still, we are amongst the shadows
yet still, we choose to ignore
the instant burst of growth of the fire
as bodies jump in
at 27 years old
embracing the idea
of the death of death
and those willing to stay and fight
their howls and growls have been lost
within the fake copies of their brethren
wagging their tales
and ripping children's faces off
and so
we
are somewhere in the middle
of punk rock and metal
you and I
as we wonder
which is giving in
and which is not
what does it mean to die?
we ask
as we die
then rise again
what does it mean to live?
we ask
as we live
and die again
fading into
something real
something tangible
and so
we
raise the dead
and so we
raise the dead
and so we
raise the Dead!
and so
I have loved
I have hated
and to jump off a building
would be as in my dream
it is all the same
the blood of demons
drips from my mouth
as I have accepted their existence
as nothing more
than the blood of angels we were before
you can see their blood
fall down
as it shoots across the night sky
emiting such brilliance
distracting you
from the belief
that a thing such as destruction
ever truly existed
