Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Cypher

Cutting through the dreams and memories
Haunted by the images of the nonexistent
It is unreal how the unreal controls the real
Reality spins away as only the ache of shame remains
Leaving a void so black that light is dashed into blood drops
Dripping from the brow of an imposter savior
His crown of thorns is worn by his subjects
Enslaving them to the will of a mysterious delusion
Cast from iron bars that once shaped cells for the wicked
I've taken the beast by the horns and become his host
So what do the wildfires in my mind mean?
The aberration excited by pain and malicious intent,
Where can the source be reached?
Craving the satisfaction to watch you suffer under my turpitude,
From which of my traumas did this emerge?
I've searched the scrolls and I've searched the skies
Scourge after scourge the whips fall without cease
That dark horse king is crucified each night with rusty nails before I shut my eyes
But when the time comes to rise from slumber
I'm reaching for the shovel of the grave digger locking me under
Cast to the abyss again I awake to cold shudders
Once again I've dreamed a dream that sets to nourish the entity in my skin
Crawling with claws along the ridges of my bones
I yearn for him to pull through so I may crush his spine
Teach me the keys to solve the enigma
Before the spell is spoken setting the date that we all shall perish

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

50 Shades of White

Cut me open and watch me bleed
See that the blood runs black
The life giving red has all been spilled
Poured out over times when the beast wore a different face
Masquerading as love
Leaning on whispers in the ears of the vulnerable
Underneath the facade lust held the reigns
Spewing a vomitus seed
Drenched in filth when it was all said and done
Shame gripped the heart of a child lost in the dark
That other side came out and raped him over hot coals
Defiled, the banner of the grotesque was raised
Destined to continue with the curse spoken over his fetus
Maidens lay blooded in the wake of his appetite
Carnage is the mark of madness and it is clear to see
That in the shade of purity hides a lie
Stamped clear as day like the scar of Cain
Reminding the world that I'm a murderer who will never be washed clean
Perverted does not even begin to describe
The thoughts dreamed up that then come to life
Marching as demons on parade
With souls held captive like slaves
Trophies of conquest, the weak who drank the elixir of sin
Behind the mind of the righteous waits the devourer
Ready to strike calling what is dormant to rise
Awaken carnal child and manipulate the masses
Practice what is evil and conjure ideas to make it new
Packaged in glitz and wrapped in extacy
Invent the wheel again so that the same old trap will spring
There is no way out except for an ice pick to the brain
Cut the flesh out and surgically sever the heart
For the root of all evil is what is truly sought
From this there is no cure without a hangman's noose
 

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Blank

What does blankness look like?
I'll show you
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Tired

I hate everything I write
So why do I put it in writing?
No idea
The idea that nothing is ever good enough
Perfection is a fickle lover
One minute it lifts you up
The next it drops you on your face
I'm tired of the negativity
And the same old tired characters
A boy and his beasts
Warriors and demons clash
Blaming my parents every fucking week
It's all so weak
Who is the judge?
You tell me!
Nothing is ever good enough until you believe
And I don't believe I'll ever be
Maybe I'm not even alive and I'm just a ghost
Just fragments of a man once destined to reign
Now destined to list ideally throughout clouded memories
I want to be different
I'm tired of being me

Gentle Peace

It cannot be explained when felt
It can only be spoken of in name
Swimming over you outside time and space
The difficulty is living after the touch has passed
How do you capture the living peace?
Let it escape and be free to return
I will see you again old friend
After I have finished the race

(You have no idea how hard it is to even just try to write something that is nice and not dark and bleak. I swear it's like pulling teeth!)

Pandora

The world is a terrible place
Stinking and festering with the huddled masses
Clinging to hope that a speck of bread will appear
Magic thinking placed in wooden idols
The fraudulent who stand on stage
With the appearance that appearance is what matters
A box is brought off the shelf
Blowing off the the dust the inscription reads
HELL AWAITS ALL, IN THIS LIFE OR THE NEXT
Men try to reinvent the world
Turning the green and blue into metal gears
Fixated on the inanimate as means to salvation
Replacing the anointed for the well oiled
Open the coffin of the living and let the damned out
Allow them to take back the cursed landscape
Let it all sink down within itself
And as I lay dying I will awake
To tell a tale of when dreams become common place
Speaking of when we can all leave this place
The madness of death is knowing this
That we all now live within Pandora's Box

Holding Back The Day

Learned of suffocation the hard way
Suffering under the ice
The sea has closed in around me
A cocoon forms in the shape of my skin
Nothing in or out
Light has ceased and everything is grey
How can the world walk in radiance,
When the sun now lives in a cage?
Brought forth out of the cave
Where dancing reeds cast shadows amidst dying flames
That was my world
Rusty chains broke under the weight of curiosity
Wondering if living meant finally using my legs
The cave gave way to a kingdom
Leading me down a path into the center of town
Buildings and houses were burned
Ash met the air and torment crawled bleeding with severed limbs
"Useless useless!" cried the prophets
"Everything is useless!"
What's the point of moving forward when I can't even crave existing?
Yet there is something that keeps on pushing
A part that wants to see what lies behind the mountains
The twin within knows it will only be more hills covered in bodies
Those who went before and lost their way
Its no longer becomes about just breathing
It now has everything to do with motivation
To peer over the edge and will myself to jump
Why is it that the smell of death lingers in the breeze?
There has to be more to living
But all my being stands against it