The ascender
struggled to the dais
stopping to rub
his sore calves
still filled with lactic acid…

“I forsook the post
workout massage
to deliver this eulogy.

Thats how
important it is
to me…”

His voice began
to trial off but
he regained his
composure and
began to speak
with command...

“He gave his life for me.
Is there no greater love
than to offer a life
in service
to me?

My Sherpa
was moved
and motivated
by economic
compulsion.

I offered him
the only wage
paying job
he ever had.

He ran with it,
taking up my
cause as if
it belonged
to him;
performing
his job
as if engaged
in a heroic
mission.

At times it
he seemed
consumed by
the largess of
my pursuit;
and his death
will bring
economic
calamity
to his family.

This further
confirms
the nobility
of my
mission.

The price
of intrepidness
is dear and
made clear,
its value
fully fleshed
out in the
sacrifice of
my Sherpa.

You may ask,
“why do I do it?”

It is no longer
disputed, if it
can be done.

Sir Edmund
and his Sherpa
answered that
question over half
a century ago.

The only
question
remaining,
"can the mountain
be conquered by me?"

I'll risk sacred fortune,
limb, life, family and
Sherpa to discover
the answer to this...

I must guard
against the
inflation of
my desire to
summit at
any cost.

I'm aware
of the
dangers
presented
by the
expanding
circumference
of my pride,
just a
meager
centimeter or
two can spell
disaster for
me.

Yet testing
its tensility,
tempting
the tipping point
of temerity,
managing the
permeability,
of risk factors
and psychical
rewards to
sift through
the membrane
that calculates
the odds to
successfully
arbitrage the
resolution of
gaming
winners and
losers,
achieving
a perfect balance
manifested in
the mettle
of me.

My
determination
shines
in pursuit
of a
golden fleece.

In my
solitary
quest
I don a
holy halo
crowning me
and fellow
climbers
stricken
with a like
obsession,
sets us apart,
anointing us
the royalty
of high stakes
X Games,
bellying
up 70 grand
to claim our
place in an
extreme
leisure class,
gifted
with time
and treasure
to turn this
unforgiving peak
into a graveyard,
a dump heap,
an open latrine…

The glaciers bleed
my **** into the tributaries
of the Holy Ganges...

My virtues
made plain
in the indelible
mark I leave
upon the mountain...

My life dedicated
to the unselfish pursuit
of a magnanimous me
quick to forgive
and forget the
failures of the
lesser who
lack the ability
and conviction
of self
to conquer
the highest peaks
meeting challenge
and opportunity
with relish and
fortitude

I'm like a
strip miner
singlemindedly
tearing the roof
of the world open
so I can fill it
with the purpose
of me.

That is the
deeper significance
of the death of my
Sherpa.

When Edmund Hillary
and his Sherpa scaled
Everest 60 years ago,
it took decades
to remember that
Tenzing Norgay
guided the beknighted
Hillery, while schlepping
his baggage and
holding the ladder
lifting the
great man
in a great
endeavor;
whose strength
and valiance
turns history’s
creaky wheel.

Sir Hillary did it
because it was
never done before;
with stoutheartedness
and national vigor
Sir Hillary conquered
the last pinnacle
in Britannia's majestic
range of storied
achievements.

As climate change
turns glaciers
into slush,
my time
grows short
to scratch my
initials alongside
the greats who
ascended this mount
before me.

So it is
with well
considered
trepidation that
I send my Sherpa
out onto the
hanging peaks,
to set the ladders
and clear the
path for
the assent
of me.

Every morning
I look into
the mirror
glimpsing
a fleeting
notion of
greatness
that is only
affirmed by
triumph of
the will.

At such a cost
my legend is born
my burden
grows greater,
weighted by
the death of
my Sherpa.

Yet my resolve
grows, eclipsing
the size of
Warren Buffett’s
fortune.

As the world warms
urgency grows,
the alarm sounds!

Onward Sherpas!

Lay the ladder
portage my baggage
the labors of Sisyphus
will find reward
of a goodly outcome!

I press the coin
of the realm into
your hand

The prayer flags
fill with determination
that I succeed,
giving your life meaning
as divine compensation
for the cost of your life.

The prayer flag’s flap
with the mountain squalls
popping, snapping
our hosannas
of victory

Onward Sherpas!

Ever Onward
may the good
Buddha
embrace
you as you
climb toward
your next
destination...

Onward Sherpas!

Music Selection
Sherpa Dance Music

Poem dedicated to the 13 Sherpa climbers
who lost their lives this week on Mount Everest.
May they find peace in heaven
may their families find peace and
sustenance here on earth.

Oakland
4/23/14
jbm

You wanna make it better,
You're more like a molester.
Not psychical don't get me wrong.
But we don't even get along.
Writing everything down.
With your imaginary crown.
Nothing but a clown.
You just stare and judge,
Asking crazy questions and such.
Why do you act like this?
Hey, I don't know ****!
How should I know why I act like I do,
And why the hell should I tell you?
Once trusted you just tell everyone,
About what a monster I've become.
Hard to handle, special school,
telling my parents what to do.
Hell fool, ***** you.

Test after test.
It's getting me upset.
Full of regret.
Why am I working along.
I should be ******* gone.
Trying to be strong.
Staring at the clock.
Hoping that it will stop.
Another fake smile.
I'm not worth the while.
Is what you're thinking.
Your hope is shrinking.
Mine was never there.
So why should we care.
You guys never did anything.
Wasting my time if anything.
So this one is for all the suckers.
Who ran out of luckers.
Meeting me, made you ****** up.
So don't ******* hate, just **** up.
That I'm a better person then I was.
So here is my sarcastic applause.
Cuz in the end I made it.
And you are still ****.
Being 50 and talking to kids.
So I say **** the system.
Peace out, Chanice
A.K.A. another victim.

My mind is reeling with thoughts
Happy memories is what I'm trying to find but once again the dark side wins and pulls me in
I can feel the ache building in my heart , and once again I'm reminded of the past
My eyes are trying to put up a fight, and the tears are desperatly trying to hold on but once again gravity does it's job and pulls them to the ground.
Words are being thrown around carelessly in my mind, like bullets shooting through me
I 'd take psychical pain over emotional and mental pain any day
The psychical pain fades with each day passing by
But the emotional and mental pain stays with you till the end of time
The world is such a beautiful place, but it's the people in it that makes it ugly
I think of what you said while shedding tears
I dig in deeper into my mind and face my biggest fear
I try standing strong as I go through the storm in my mind
Once it's finished I sign in relief
With a final question flooding my mind
"How come I forgive but never forget"
is the final thought before I close my eyes
My head sinks into the pillow and I curl into a ball
I cover my whole body with a blanket as I stifle a yawn
Black is all I see as it consumes me and takes me to a better place
And makes me forget the cold hard truth that I again in the morning have to face.

Because sometimes home
Is not so much a physical space
As much as a psychical place
I felt the way the first nomad
Must've felt the day they
Decided to stay
Home became a person
Love became a man
So to the man that had dreams
Of Duke, alligators & playing God
Please remember her
Don't forget the girl that had dreams of saving the world
Don't forget you were her world

it wasn't until
the other night
that i started
thinking about
you, and how
much i wanted
to be around
you, and how
badly i wanted
to kiss your lips.

it wasn't until
i saw you with
him, that i began
feeling this feeling
called loneliness
come creeping
back into me once
again, and it's
t e r r i f y i n g .

just the other day
you were just a
little girl, playing
with barbies and
playing make-
believe, but just the
other day i saw
you sticking your
tongue down his
throat, and i never
thought i would
ever see this day.

you called it love,
but i call it lonely.
he calls love some-
thing else entirely.
love to a boy like
him is psychical,
and when he is
done, he will leave,
like the others did.
and i am so sorry
that you have to
go through that.

in this state ...
we follow the drum
dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum

it's a baseline from the numinous
rooted in the luminous
dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum

it's consciousness expanding
and selfishness unbounding
dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum

this thrombosis is cyclical
inspired spirals are psychical
dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum

Do we have free will
You asked me
We do
Absolutely
Even under the dome of
the Almighty, the willpower
still exists, hiding somewhere
in our brain——
Tour de force
The great virtuosity
The strength to envision
The power to make
Our ambitions a reality
Will
So it's called
The property of mind
"The Will to Power"
Nietzsche elaborated on it
"The World as Will and
Representation"
Schopenhauer spent his
Whole life obscuring it more
Than enlightening the world
Unlike Aristotle, who had a saner
View on ethics and personal choices
But wait until Freud was here
Who took half of the gist
In philosophy with him
And made it all psychical
At least
He convinced most people
To maneuver will
We need to wade through
Dark waters
——The maze in
Subconscious, the power within
To reign, we have to know
Our mind by studying it
And practicing
For until it's free
Under consciousness
We can't wield the will still...
I wish I've showed you
My long journey
Of searching

Every inch of my being is tired,
exhausted really, or some other form of the word
that I can't quite think of because my mind is on auto-pilot.
and I can't exactly put into words how I feel right now
without sounding ******* crazy but basically-
I'm tired of wanting to see my hand go completely through a wall
and not exactly know why I want to let loose on everything around me.
I'm tired of one day wanting to ******* from the face of the earth
and the next loving every single tree and blade of grass there is.
The irritation isn't worth the euphoria
but the euphoria makes everything else seem worthy.

I have traced my hand on paper and turned it into something,
like a thanksgiving turkey or a cool art project
just so I am reminded that these hands can hold more things
and touch more people than I could ever imagine
all I have to do is utilize these words and harness them
into something, something other than rage and fury.
I'm so ******* tired of feeling like I am running a race
while wearing weights around my ankles
and a lock around my mind so I can't think of anything else
except the circumstance I am in right now.

Why is negativity so easy?
When everything else is so ******* hard
and I'd like to think it's because nothing good comes from negativity.
All good things come from positivity right?
Well what about to nights I want to be alone
but the whole world is on my back pushing me to maintain
and everyone is hovering around me with expectations and worries
But all I have to do is reply with a simple,
I don't feel well and it all vanishes.
But this isn't the life I want to live,
constantly feeling nothing but pain,
physical and psychical what the **** is the difference?
Because physically you're in pain it makes you psychically in pain
Vice Versa. Vice Versa. Vice Versa.  
This is why every vice we have like cigarettes and ***** are bad
because nothing good comes from the bad things.
So why are there any bad things at all?

I  would like at least once
to write and really think about what I write,
and get somewhere magical.
Write the best ******* **** i've ever laid eyes on-
But then I start and I get so enthralled in my stream of conscious
I am not longer in control of what my hands type,
it's like a teleprompter in my head leading the way.
I wish it all made sense.
I wish I believed in god and heaven-
that it would make all of this easier but it doesn't.
if god exists why do I see ghosts of lives past
creeping behind closed doors in the light of day?
Why in the **** is there so much corruption in the church?
You would think he would try to stop us,
but maybe this is the plan.

Maybe depersonalization is actually just being one with the universe.
and maybe manic depression is just reminding us
how we can harness the intensity of our emotions-
because I've felt that dry wall cling to the knuckles
on my fragile hands and ever since then I've never felt so alive,
but I look at the damage and start to worry what my father will think.
How will I mend what I spent so little time breaking?

I looked forward. I hugged my knees to my chest and looked forward.
The hole in my jeans exposed my knee caps and my sweater did little to stop the cold from penetrating my skin.
But I looked forward. I can't really tell you what I saw. I could tell you the psychical view. The lush green trees and the pretty blue lake. But I was looking beyond that. I was looking at myself.
Please don't think I'm on a high horse. I know man is minuscule to nature. I know. But right now I am important. Important enough to compare to nature.
The wind blew lightly, the leaves dancing. They swirled and settled just as quickly. And the water was calm, but got ripples every time a leaf drifted onto the glassy surface.
I looked forward, anyway.
The thing I can't tell you is what i saw in myself. I saw a girl with a tattered sweater and ripped jeans. A girl with dark circles and a pretty smile. But I couldn't see underneath. I lost myself. I hadn't realized it. But slowly yet surely i had lost my quirks and my charm. But I was whole, and I was alive. Breathing. I survived the year.
Looking forward, the water and the trees brought the year back.
I wlooked down at the worn Polaroid.
It was the same lake, the same trees, taken a year ago.
I was the only thing different.
And I'm still okay.

the thing that really ***** about betrayal,
is that its always by someone you love
no matter how small or big,
psychical or emotional
it still packs the same punch
it still hurts like hell
and it still leaves you sad, broken, and alone.

I.
I contemplate nom de plume (a).
The nomenclator (b) pax (c) kiss of peace (d) .
Coddle (e) the dowry (f) , the dowsables (g) pas de deux (h) .
Fill the kyack (i) with tidytips (j) from California , that land lease (k) .
No irrational number (l) , reality two (m) .

Definitions:
(a) non de plume - pen name.

(b) nomenclator - a book containing a ciollection of lists of words or names .

(c) pax - from Latin pax vobis (peace to you) or pax vobiscum (peace with you). A pax is a liturgical object used in the Middle Ages and Renaissance for the Kiss of Peace in the Catholic mass . It began to replace the actual Kiss of Peace in the 13th century .

(d) Kiss of Peace - An ancient traditional Christian greeting.

(e) coddle - treat in an indulgent or overprotective way .

(f) dowry - property or money brought by a bride to her husband on their marriage .

(g) dowsables - obsolete word for sweetheart or lady love .

(h) pas de deux - a dance for two people , typically a man and woman . A duet in ballet.

(i) Kyack - a packsack to be swung on either side of a packsaddle . Two connecting sacks .

(j) tidytips - an annual wildflower native to western North America .

(k) land lease - leasing the land upon which a tenant may own the home but not the land .

(l) irrational number - is a real number that cannot be expressed as a ratio of two integers . A number with an infinite number of digits .

(m) reality two - Jen Oliver Meiert - two realities . One is the physical reality . And the other is psychical reality .


II.
Fatten on krass (a) and farina (b) , fanfaronade (c) , mordancy (d) , honey and beurre noir (e) on toast .
Nothing to ambsace (f) !
The guidon (g) carried by a guidon betraying the one ,
"one's fancy" only to be crushed by a juggernaut (h) . . . promace (i) .


(a) Krass - German for gross or coarse .

(b) Farina - name in the U.S. for milled wheat .

(c) fanfaronade - arrogant or boastful talk .

(d) mordancy - a biting or caustic criticism .

(e) beurre noir - French for black butter .

(f) ambsace - the lowest throw of the dice .
Something worthless or unlucky .

(g) guidon - a pennant typically attached a pole that narrows to a point or fork at the end . A standard for light calvary .

(h) juggernaut - huge and overpowering force .

(i) promace - animal tranquilizer .


III.
Could I quintuplicate (a) the subdebutante (b) becoming tag end (c) ?
Would I cozen (d) the bulblet (e) from the branch Circe (f) ?
The Elaine (g) of long ago evanescent (h) my Hesperus (i) friend .
To Hesperides (j) especially , the Jinni (k), lowball comedy (l) .


(a) quintuplicate - fivefold . To multiply by five .

(b) subdebutante - a girl in her mid teens about to become a debutante .

(c) tag end - the last remaining part of something .

(d) cozen - to trick or deceive . Obtain by deception .

(e) bulblet - small bulb produced on a larger bulb .

(f) Circe - Goddess , nymph , enchantress or sorceress of magic . Daughter of Helios and either Oceania or Hecate . Able to change people into animals with potions or incantations .

(g) Elaine - the women of Arthurian legend who died of unrequited love for Lancelot . From Greek , a girls name meaning "sun's rays or shining light" .

(h) evanescent - soon passing out of sight , memory , or existence . Quickly fading or disappearing .

(i) Hesperus - the planet Venus . Evening star .

(j) Hesperides - legendary garden found at the western extremity of the world that produces golden apples . The nymphs that with the aid of a dragon guard the garden that grows the golden apples .


(k) - Jinni - also Genni . In Arabian and Muslim mythology the intelligent spirit with less ranking than an Angel that can appear in human or animal form for the purpose of possessing humans .

(l) lowball comedy - a deceptively crude comedy with underlying meanings .


IV.
My Maginot Line (a) , my Magen David (b) . . . before you board mae west (c) .
The squirting sea cucumber .
The Sammum Bonum (d) goes .
It's Watch Night (e) like a watch pocket (f) .
Zombism (g) we have digressed (h)
The incunable (i) mickle (j) , the  micawberish (k) pentagram (l)
exposed .


(a) Maginot Line - weaponized concrete fortifications built by France in the 1930's to keep Germany out .

(b) Magan David - originating from Medieval
Arabic literature . A hexagram (overlapping equivalent triangles) that was used as a talisman on protective amulets and was known as the Seal of Solomon . In the 18th century it was adopted by Jewish interest as the Star of David .

(c) Mae West - Personal flotation device (PFD) , life preserver . First inflatable life preserver created by Peter Markas in 1928 .

(d) sammum bonum - Latin . From Rome's greatest orator meaning 'The highest good' . Virtue .

(e) Watchnight - a service also called Watchnight Mass is a late night Christian church service . Held on late New Year's Eve . Also called Freedom's Eve service , a celebration and remembrance of the Emancipation Proclamation (enacted January 1 , 1863) which freed the slaves in the Confederate States during the American Civil War .

(e) watch pocket - extra fifth pocket on the right side of blue jeans made for a size 16 pocket watch .

(f) Zombism - the Kongo and Kimbundu system of religious rites . Characterized by worship of a snake diety during Voodoo rites .

(g) digressed - leave the main subject temporaryly in speech or writing .

(h) incunable - a book , pamphlet , or broadside ( a critical response) printed in Europe before the year 1501 .

(i) mickle - a very large amount .

(j) Micawberish - resembling the character of Wilkins Micawber in the Charles Dickens novel
David Copperfield . Especially optimistic to the point of being irrisponsible .

(k) Pentagram - five pointed star used in ancient Greece  and Bablyonia . Which is used today as a symbol of faith by many Wicans and said to have magical powers and associations .


V.
While the rabalo (a) swims the tropical seas
succes de scandale (b) .
While the Exmoor (c) ponies exert , ****** (d) in-and-out (e) .
And the Langur (f) from Laos
lies lethargic , drinking meadowsweet (g) ale .
The Nereids (h) tease and pase (i) in polyrthym (j) .


(a) Rabalo - common snook or sergeant fish .

(b) succès de scandale - a success due to notoriety or things of a scandalous nature . Public controversy .

(c) Exmoor - an area of hilly open moorland in west Somerset and north Devon in South Wales England named after the river Exe . Ancient royal hunting grounds .

(d) ****** -  Queen of Asgard and wife of Odin . Stepmother of Thor and adoptive mother of Loki .

(e) in-and-out - copulation

(f) Langur - long tailed aboreal monkey with a characteristicly loud call .

(g) meadowsweet - or mead wort is a perennial herb that grows  in damp meadows in Europe used to make medicine .

(h) Nereids - In Greek mythology the Nereids are sea nymphs , daughters of Nercus and Doris and known to be friendly and helpful to sailors .

(i) pase - a maneuver with a cape used in bullfighting meant to get the attention of the bull .

(j) polyrthym - a rthym which makes use of two or more different rthyms simultaneously .



VI .
The enchantress in a jaded jodhpur (a) .
So kitsch (b) with the live stream (c) mouth .
A menu (d) with folded mantis hands , a Nazarene (e) .
An à outrance (f) , an abstraction (g) .
***** envy (h) , reach-me-down (i) , rest house (j) south .
The simoon's (k) coming , simon pure (l) in simony (m) .


(a) Jodhpur - also called riding breeches . Tight fitting trousers that reach the ankles ending in a snug cuff worn primarily for horse riding .

(b) kitsch - German meaning ****** art . Excessively garish or sentimemental art usually considered in bad taste or lowbrow .

(c) live stream - to stream digital data . Data that is delivered continuously and is usually intended for immediate processing or playback .

(d) manu - (Sanskrit) is a term found in Hinduism . In early texts it refers to the first men , (progenitor of humanity) .

(e) Nazarene - native of Nazareth . A member of a group of German painters
working mainly in Rome who from 1809 sought to revive the art of Medieval Germany and early Renaissance Italy .

(f) à outrance - exorbitance .To the limit .

(g) abstraction - freedom from representational art . Dealing with ideas rather than events .

(h) - ***** envy - the supposed coveting  of the male ***** by a young female according to Sigmund Freud .

(i) reach-me-down - second hand clothing

(j) rest house - shelter for travelers especially when there are no hotels available .

(k) simoon - a hot dry dust-laden wind blowing in the desert , especially in Arabia .

(l) simon pure - untainted purity or integrity . Absolute pure , genuine or authentic . Also used negatively as pretentiously or hypocritically pure .

(m) simony - the buying or selling of ecclesiastical privileges . Such as something spiritual . Taken from Simon Magus
(Act 8:18) who endeavored to buy from the Apostles the power of conferring the gifts of the Holy Spirit .



VII .
Come Nisus (a), Lord of misuse.
With your Ibizan (b) hounds
and ewer (c) .
Your ebulient (d) ectomorphic (e)
mentality .
Board a carrack (f) to Chad breastbeating (g).
Put your thoughts on skewer (h) .
While seeking an essoin (i) , flannel-mouthed (j) idyllic (k) .


(a) Nisus - Greek mythology , King of Megara , son of Pandion of Athens . When King Minos of Crete beseiged Megara , Nisus's daughter Scylla fell in love with Minos . She betrayed her city by cutting off her father's purple lock . The purple lock of hair held magical powers if preserved . Nisus was killed and became a sea eagle . Scylla later drowned , said by the hands of Minos and was changed into a sea bird pursued by the sea eagle .

(b) Ibizan hound - named for an island off the coast of Spain . Ancient breed of hounds once kept by the Pharoahs around 3400 B.C.

(c) ewer - a large jug or pitcher with a wide mouth used for carrying water for someone to wash in .

(d) ebulient - cheerful and full of energy . Archaic - of liquid or matter boiling or agitated as if boiling . From Latin ebullire - to bubble out which is the stem of the word Bullire which is the ancestor of the word boil .

(e) ectomorphic - body having a build with little fat or muscle and long limbs .

(f) - Chad - a landlocked country in north central Africa . One of the poorest and most corrupt nations in the world .

(g) breastbeating - a loud emotional expression of remorse , grief , anger , or self recrimination .

(h) Skewer - stick or metal pin used to hold meat .

(i) essoin - old English . An excuse for nonappearance in court .

(j) flannel-mouthed - smooth and persuasive in speech in order to deceive or manipulate .

(k) idyllic - extremely happy , peaceful , or picturesque .



VIII .
Through the eyes of yashmak (a) ,
below the eyes of  yarmulke (b) .
Whey-faced (c) tunneled half-caste (d)  in a white haik (e) .
Genuflection (f) to Baal (g) , Jehovah (h) .
A docudrama (i) , carbunckled (j) .
As the cross hair sweeps
across professed
liturgist (k) .


(a) yashmak - veil concealing all of the face except the eyes . Worn by some Muslim women in public .

(b) yarmulke - a skull cap worn by orthodox Jewish men or during prayer by other Jewish men .

(c) whey-faced - pale , especially as a result of ill health , shock , or fear .

(d) half-caste - a person whose parents are of different races in particular a European father and an Indian mother .

(e) Haik - a large outer garment or wrap typically white and worn by people from North Africa's Maghreb region .


(f) genuflection - lowering of one's body briefly by bending one knee to the ground . Typically in worship or as as sign of respect .

(g) Baal - was a title honorific meaning "owner" , "Lord" in the Northwest Semitic languages spoken in the Levant during antiquity . From its use among people it became to be applied to Gods of fertility , weather , rain , wind , lightning , seasons , war , and patron of sailors .

(h) Jehovah - a form of the Hebrew name  of God . Means  "I am that I am" or "I am the one who is".

(i) docudrama - a dramatized TV movie based on real life events .

(j) carbunckled - to make painful , sore , or irritated .

(k) liturgist - one who practices liturgy . A form to which public religious worship is conducted . In ancient Greece a public office or duty performed voluntaryly by a rich Athenian .

The spiritual part of a being
the definition of soul
As the sun sets and the darkness creeps over
I'm left sitting and my mind wondering

Our souls go beyond our psychical bodies
They apart of us but us not apart of them
When we die are bodies are left to rot
But are souls continue on from what I'm taught

Staring into the depths of the nighttime sky
One can feel themselves looking but not thinking
Thinking is complex and the body doesn't like to pry
I can feel the tension built up within me starting to melt as the mind drifts and the soul wonders about

To connect with another soul brings a feeling of euphoria
The body confused the soul not
Why can I hear their silent thoughts?
Because the souls all along had a plot
The time will come when your soul connects
Your souls just haven't met

Broken in my spirit, I humbly do an inventory.
I look at my actions to see if they are of right spirit. 
In the spirit of the moment, I'm whisked away from fear.

In the end I'm transformed without no one knowing wiser.
The psychical world has been on tract yet lacking in substance.
A moment in time, for me, has become years of expectation.

A longing I can't even describe on any level ever.
Not to mention the fact that everything seems a little off.
All that puts me on edge a little, feeling like expectations.

It's the only word that comes to mind as I make goals that count.
As I stand up for the next right thing, I find strength from some where.
Then it's easy to move forward, even if it's at a snails pace.

Betrayal and hurt carelessness so brutal it cuts my bones an iron blade slowly putting me on my knees till I fall and never come back never the same the wound will heal, but there will be a scar vertically crossing my spine forever every time I see it it will remind me of the most difficult period in my life the moment I learned friends can betray people like to see you dwell, like to see you in pain well some do unfortunately for me you were one of them you hid it really **** well until you finally came out of your shell up for destruction wherever you could find it well from my knees I will In nights I hug Nelson, my dog, my everything,  absence of pain is already luck for me being home in myself is where I will be I don't need *** or a lot of psychical things I will just grow a pair of wings and when life gets too hard when the memories come up I will fly a bit higher up in a realm full op peace and serenquilitity where no one can see me free of this merciless earth a moment of rest until I have climb back, joint the fight, cause I will not hide I will help people who have suffered the same fate I did or something like it I hope that I can give them some comfort, make them calmly sit realise there is realise there is also beauty in life, but it is not found in guys, or excess drugs or means its in the flower floating down a stream, its in the smile on your dog's face when you come home how he whistles before his walk, so happy in his tilth oh so unaware of all the filth I want to protect him forever, so that he only experiences, good and love and gestures of selflessness luckily I am there for him, but who is there for me I'm alone in a filthy ocean, but I must continue, I must swim the reason is a bit unclear it might just be fear like everything falls back in fear of death in the end I try not the reason is a bit unclear, it might just be fear like everything falls back in fear of death in the end, I try not to think sink my feet in the sand, stare at the sun and sing as loud as I can to feel a little brighter a little happiness a little less messy.

we live to rot and die,
To live in truth,
but most choose to live in a lie,
To live in youth,
Maybe the end is nigh,
Living by government orders,
Filming all via camcorders,
Fighting against the system,
Attack, stab, shoot, oh **** missed him,
I laugh at everything on social media,
Cause * living in a state of acedia,
Done with the hypocrites,
That think violence will be the change,
In the mosh pit, ah * crash the plane from the **** pit,
First breath to last just a final air exchange,
Beauty isn't the looks that we desire,
Cause ugliness is only sang by the death choir,
Cause your skin beauty will fade and crinkle,
You grow old, grey and wrinkle,
Either buried or cremated, ashes sprinkled,
Cause our life is borrowed,
Death is years spent have been brought,
Even our DNA and Chromosomes will one day decode,
Battles psychical, emotional and mentally have been fought,
But the war has been lost, the memory of you is just a after thought,
Communities, cults are all dangerous,
Beliefs, culture, styles all will end in Obtain Justice,
Maybe Covid was meant to be an humane extinction purpose.

Betrayal and hurt carelessness so brutal it cuts my bones an iron blade slowly putting me on my knees till I fall and never come back never the same the wound will heal, but there will be a scar vertically crossing my spine forever every time I see it it will remind me of the most difficult period in my life the moment I learned friends can betray people like to see you dwell, like to see you in pain well some do unfortunately for me you were one of them you hid it really **** well until you finally came out of your shell up for destruction wherever you could find it well from my knees I will In nights I hug Nelson, my dog, my everything,  absence of pain is already luck for me being home in myself is where I will be I don't need *** or a lot of psychical things I will just grow a pair of wings and when life gets too hard when the memories come up I will fly a bit higher up in a realm full op peace and serenquilitity where no one can see me free of this merciless earth a moment of rest until I have climb back, joint the fight, cause I will not hide I will help people who have suffered the same fate I did or something like it I hope that I can give them some comfort, make them calmly sit realise there is realise there is also beauty in life, but it is not found in guys, or excess drugs or means its in the flower floating down a stream, its in the smile on your dog's face when you come home how he whistles before his walk, so happy in his tilth oh so unaware of all the filth I want to protect him forever, so that he only experiences, good and love and gestures of selflessness luckily I am there for him, but who is there for me I'm alone in a filthy ocean, but I must continue, I must swim the reason is a bit unclear it might just be fear like everything falls back in fear of death in the end I try not the reason is a bit unclear, it might just be fear like everything falls back in fear of death in the end, I try not to think sink my feet in the sand, stare at the sun and sing as loud as I can to feel a little brighter a little happiness a little less messy.