This vacancy of recognition to
survival itself is declining my
potential of ever recovering.
My bliss is pre-occupied in vigilant
combat, return when this ward I'm in
kills off the earsplitting shrieks
gushing through my bloodstream.
I'm hinged by a thread of dauntless hope,
how will I flee from this escapade
of what they call a human?
Quarreling from life and death,
dolefulness specks onto hypocritical
hysteria-
All feedback is welcome
Faith 2h
you have me,
in the palm,
of your hand.
there is no grip,
yet I cannot flee.

I want to be,
entirely my own,
without thought of another.

yet I sit in your palm.
you have no idea,
and perhaps,
could not care less.
(based on a true incident at Trubros Ltd., Kegworth - A "relief" lorry driver really did get well and truly lost)

It was on a Monday morning when the lorry left the yard
Mr. Waters was away that week – and things were getting hard
But Chris gave Glyn all the info and the route
was carefully planned
And in the Cargo’s cab the mobile phone was close to hand

It was on a Tuesday morning when the site staff called to say
They hadn’t seen the lorry yet, was it on the !!! way!
With Adrian away, things had gone from bad to worse
Was it a lorry on the way or a !!! funeral hearse!

It was on a Wednesday morning we called up 999
And a very nice policeman was soon upon the line
We said, we’re getting worried, our M.D.’s on some beach
And our Cargo must be with him, ‘cos it’s phone we canna reach!

It was on a Thursday morning that the coppers we did spy
1 horse, 6 cars, 10 tracker dogs and 12 choppers in the sky
The horseman said, “we got a little lost,
but Adrian stood a round or two
So, if we see your Cargo, we’ll try and get back to you”

It was on a Friday morning, when Kate Adey came in view
She’d interviewed our Adrian, and was told to see Chris. True
There’d been one call from Cairo, and a couple from Japan
And a little Chinese merchant said he’d seen Glyn in Taiwan

It was on a Saturday morning we saw Adrian on t.v.
He told how, from his hotel, he’d been forced to quickly flee
Since a Cargo, in the Foyer, had dumped its load of steel
And this funny looking stranger had been seated at the wheel!

It was on a Sunday morning an Ayatollah called to say
He’d turned at morn to Mecca, and was prone, about to pray
When a man in navy overalls, Trubros logo on his sleeve
Claimed he’d had a revelation and was ready to believe!

It was on the Monday morning, when the P.M.’s statement came
For this international incident Great Britain was not to blame
For a man in navy overalls had been seen to lead the coup
And Saddam was coming over here to sort out Mr. True!
just a bit of a fun from my past working days - As the Receptionist I was expected to re-direct lost drivers, including the company's own!!
Axel 4d
For eons untold I have watched you rise and fall. Build empires and break them. Cure diseases and be ailed by them. I have watched you commune in many religious ways… watched you slaughter for your faith. Now that the darkness has dawned, finally I have come, soaring towards you.

As the farmer brings his harvest home, the librarian pores over long forgotten a tome, whilst the piper flutes a final tone. Echoes from my insides a most peculiar and maddening drone.
Too long soils you have stained with blood, bygone your time of breeding. Your cancerous race, your viral existence… Put out of its misery soon enough.

I soar, adorned in shrouds of doom and gloom, my wings blowing frigid winds and blotting out the moon. Unseen horror, hidden in the darkest nooks of your feeble minds. The stalking predator that lurks near the sheep pen. Crypt born from the graven mounds of a long stained and rotten memory. Ancient pillars carved for me, worshiping us.

No atonement can there be for the existence of human sin. Only to rend and tear your fleshy vessels. In a nuclear chaos confounded to the self-made oblivion, the blindfold to not see, the unutterable horror that is me…

Flee…


If it makes you feel safe and sanctified. You will feel my leering gaze and gaping maw wherever you may hide. Sleep will creep upon you somehow.

Like in times of old, there are some stories they left untold. To prevent further damnation and total extinction, the worship of the gods of all creation. Floating in a sea most nebulous, blackened and foul, adrift outside of the play garden of time and space, there live things without a face.

The piping of mad flutes a harbinger of my coming, a blazing star to wipe the slate clean. Not even a faint echo will remain.
Go out while you can… Walk hand in hand into extinction as brothers and sister, opting out of a raw deal. The last midnight for the human race…

A cancerous vile growth that only thrives for our amusement…
Tell them everything & don't leave out the good parts
Hell bent whispers for desperate listeners
I'm not proud of the things we did
No, it didn't work out ... we were just kids
Knowing I stand tall in courage to leave

Go on and tell them why I needed to flee
Oh, everyone is talking about me
Oh, I've kept it mute  so you wouldn't fall
Don't leave out the good parts, tell it all!

Tell them everything & in between
How you've become so mean... you've got your story & I got mine
Oh, the secrets you've told me
Uh, were a waste of my time
Good sweet lies as you said " I love you"
How do you feel now? Seeing me rise above you
Tell em how you broke my heart
Should have left but was blinded from the start

Just continuous restless nights
Knowing my decision was right

Fine lines were breaking
Unbreak my heart now that beats to a different drum
Continuous agony has made me go numb
Knowing damn well it was all affecting me

You tarnish my character just so you can look clean
Oh, after it all. I promised to never fall
Uh, at least tell them I'm a good kisser.

Think Good Thoughts! JK! Fuck You!
inspired by the song Good Kisser by Lake Street Dive
If we are in a masquerade party
with no faces,
names,
nor identity

Just words,
and alcohols,
for both of us
to see.

Just soul,
and coffee,
making our spirits
flee.

Would you look at me
without a mask,
with a cover,
inside a flask?

Would you touch me
and dare to drown
inside my smirks,
smile, and ignited frown.

Would you run away from me
to set yourself free?

Or would you let yourself fall,
for a masqueraded soul?
I am just me with a mask to fit with the society.
When the feared day came, I roamed the city looking for traces of your scent, the city is big and my lungs are small,  
I inhaled whatever my pores could take in, the Kebab of every street, a whiff of the pomegranates of the South, the dust of the North, but you were not in the air, you were gone.

Cities have no honor, but this one is no traitor,

you flee anyway, and I,
I weep over your streets.

— The End —