[x]

Damnation is near to me it seems...
the heat of Hell, grows in a sweat on my brow.

I close my eyes, only to hear my chains
sing the song of my enslavement.

The motions that through I go,
Know me by the long face, And baggy eyes.

The walk to my Father, through a cold and endless storm,
rusting over the iron of my chains.

I fill the cup that in hand I carry, with the constant down pour,
quenching what thirst I can, only to carry on.

Only in the dark of the storm do I weep so that the tears will blend with the rain,
and the sniffing is blended by my shuffling feet.

The walk home in the rain, The dragging of my feet,
enslaved by their own m

2. Battery Low

Where else is there to turn,
When your own blood and flesh
are against you?

In the time when one must learn
to grow from being just another
pawn to just another cog.

In an existence of corrupted control,
where each monkey is too
often a slave to another.

Grown and flowing with
a virus of such hate,
the heated emotion has spread
over like the flames within itself.

The waves have come and gone
in this hellish marathon,
over turning almost every effort of advance.

So where else to turn
other than to the bones
that carry the burden of this virus?

How pitiful that the wingless apes
turn on one another rather
than relying on each other.

The

Older Than Babylon

I sat there, at the edge of the peak of the growing mountain,
seeking the patience I had always lacked.

My dreams were older than Babylon,
Yet in the time that is now, I age.

I had walked the dashed line unaware of where it may lead.
Even it knew not the future with each added dash.

The naivety I know, cannot be undone, for where lies the knowledge I unknowingly seek out?
The tangent of my life's journey, irrelevant to the road once laid before my soul.

It is in the sleepless nights that my dreams find me most maliciously...
interrogating me as to my lack of persistence and pursuit.

And in my screams of the loss of sanity,
shot out the

Until Eternity's End.

You before me, angelic, this vision.
Why do dark tears fall
from those brown eyes, so beautiful?

Why does your face shy from my eyes,
and shroud itself with the hair,
through which I run my fingers?

For what reason, to what cause,
do your limbs tremble in my absence,
and discover tensity in my presence?

Good God, use your lips,
before mine reach them,
as your silence gives consent.

Speak the mind which fascinates my ears,
Spill out the heart that grips tight to my soul.
Bare the soul that mine is forever meant for.

I wish to love you more than you could comprehend,
and purge every trace of affliction...
Bare the soul that mi

Rest at LastSun retiring
Tired orange clouds sink slow
Weathered wooden fence

Before ChaosBack in the day,
When everything was merry and gay.
You could only see the light,
Blocking out that looming darkness,
And you knew it was going to be alright.

Back in the day,
When people danced and kids did play.
You could just remember it now,
Seeing all those faces; all smiling no less,
Ask yourself why did it go wrong somehow?

Back in the day,
When you didn't have to hope or pray.
You could be happy alone,
In perfect harmony no preacher could bless,
After all you hid a heart of stone.

Her Ice Blue EyesShe breathes snowflakes,

Her frosty breath

Freezing him in his steps.

For what greater beauty

Than is that

Of the winter-born girl?

If I Were The Devil...What would I do if I were the devil?
Well, where do I start?
I would share humans' depraved thoughts openly
And trick them by calling it "art"

I would corrupt the music industry
So it pours out words so vile
On movie screens I'd recite perverted jokes
And make their minds so numb, they'll smile

I'd infect the internet with my work
That abolishes what's pure and leaves them awed
I'd have them blame their creation on science alone
And make them scoff at the name of God

These things will become everyday life
And evil will no longer be bizarre
Basically I guess, if I were the devil
I would leave things exactly as they are

The Error of My Ways.

Head back
to where the die was cast.
Arise, reluctant to bare witness
to what unfolds.
Back where I believed,
like some arrogant fool,
that the good of the outcome,
outweighed the erroneous methods.
My delusions have turned so vivid
that they become commonplace
with my reality,
running hand in hand
towards my downfall
as a friendly face in the crowd...

The Subconscious Strive

Challenge this opposition before you,
as the very Kingdom of Heaven is at your back.
What know you of the sight of victory,
should you not even attempt to seek it out?

Pull your head out and swallow the sand.
kick up the dust beneath the liquid layer,
swim against the tide, ascend and ride the wind,
Journey only forward, beyond the grasp of defeat.

Take us beyond the firefight,
to the brittle outskirts,
upon the horizon,
where lies our origin.

Within memory is our future,
where made easy
is the heavier weight of the burden.
Plant the seeds for the new battlefield.

Make it our own, by conquer, by incline.
Push forward through the storm,
th

Gaia's Reconstruction

I close my eyes only to see such nightmare in mind...
The world aflame and by my ears the crackling embers
reincarnated back into the dust of my world.
Recycled through the air now filled with
The exhausted gasp of Death himself.

Hope dies cradled in his weary arms,
and even he weeps from empty eye sockets.
Yet upon the burial was a seed planted,
and before the overflowing wells of his empty eyes,
grew life within the barren womb of Gaia.

Down from the Throne did He come,
barring a comforting hold over Death,
and the waters of life to nurse to health,
His world in the making to come.
Reborn and re united was to be our realm.

Fr

Dreams on a Battlefield

Oh sweet sleep, take me away...
Away to the restless worlds
Of my subconscious wonderland.
Unhand me, reality...
let go and set me free.

From soul to psyche,
the visitation of my thoughts
To my warped imagination.
Where both angel and daemon,
Do visit me in my nightly coma

My memory fades from my grasp
with the cold sweat and opening of my eyes,
but I do know better as to the cause by effect.
my visitors wage war
within those restless lands.

As they are and have always been,
By dream or nightmare regardless am I
without doubt in the slightest,
intrigued by such evidence
and presence of the transcendent ones.

I know not the faces but

Recreating Eden

And what if for you I built a garden?
In there where we would know a private freedom,
The priceless peace without end,
And a patch of Heaven to cover the bruises of time.

There you would find all your dreams of us,
And then more to add as we go along,
Skimming carelessly over the grass…
Free without shame, hand in hand in love.

And what if I grew for you the flowers of all your favorite colors?
Blossomed and alive, their scent filling the air…
I would create a beating heart in its center,
A pond of warm stone, and a fountain to give it life.

I would lay with you in a hammock beneath the shade,
holding close the love that is my ow

wake
trembling lips,
can't breathe, at least not steadily,
paint me turquoise
or be the forest to my fire,
actually I'd rather you were nothing, at least nothing to me,
now I can feel nightfall coming upon the manifestation of a July moon,
so let's let those clouds burst and rip wide open
just as though the clouds were my organs and
the rain were my blood.

Ascetic Perception

I met a man today...
his eyes were tired,
and he seemed lost.

How I wanted to help him,
How his eyes stared off into space,
How his affliction shouted to me...

He spoke out, and the words tore at me,
and as he spoke, so we began,
repeating his words, of the why & how.

Our eyes met, and silence became us.
my heart pounded, as he breathed heavily,
tears fell...out of anger...out of fear...

I met a man today,
his voice was low and solemn...
this man in the mirror.

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Once more with HubrisA self-righteous whore does not deserve the title

of being anything but what she is

An arrogant womanizing pig deserves no better

Pride is a fire

To much will incinerate whats been built

To little, and there is no warmth or light

to guide your building hands

Pride is of water

To much and you shall drown

To little and you shall perish

Cast down, something once so beautiful

in the eyes of many

Now the surge of the Earth

A diamond now lyes with the maggots

Once more with Hubris

Once gone with Pride

A black bird flies into damnation

as a catalyst for the sins

Of hypocrisy

No more will it fly for you

For you are done with arrog

One hand in HellBlood on my hands

Is it mine or my enemy's?

The time for questions is long passed

But it will come again,

as soon as i get my head out of a bullet's sight

Another morning, feels like i'm crawling through rubble

The Mixture of sun & sand leaves me to my illusions

The Moon is where i see my own 100 yard stare

within a dark night sky

I've got one hand in Hell

And the other feeling for Paradise

Rest; a luxury that now packs it's bags

with each dying day

Stare into my mind

I am all but perfect

Look me in the eye

and tell me i deserve grace

In the end, the rise to power

is nothing more than a long road of sacrifice

Remorse lies w

You won't see a thing.I've done my time in the Kill or Be killed Hell

So explain to me, what waits in the After

A list of consequences lying in wait

to tie me down, and have their way

I thank my God that I ever held you in my heart

I have experience in being pushed down

So this will be easy, since that grip

was just

as

bitter

Borderline symphonies in my memory to help bid you farewell

The simple thought of you weighs heavily on my mind

You taught me lessons in life that one cannot simply draw a blank to

So vindictive minds contrive the demise of there enemies

I'll take my sweet time

EYES IN THE SHADOWS

My deception will whither you away

I am that

Paradise and OblivionNeed i beg for you to stay?

Tranquility has come for you so to soon

your loss is more than enough

to tear me in two, and apart

You were so loved

and yet so hated

Welcome to a world of pain

A furnace for every last sinner

Your rest will come when i say it does

Leave, and i'd only be one in this cold home

my foundation can not be undone

MARCH towards the gates of paradise and oblivion!

I care no more of your petty lies & quarrels

Standing above your own grave leaves you

your ONE AND ONLY PEACE

I AM Death itself

Riding the wind through your veins

My blood feeds whatever burns

In your oh so human mind

I have pressed you with my

Anatomy of a Justified MindMy mind is my anatomy, as my heart beats are simply a countdown

As my lungs pump out my last gasps of air

I am not weak, but erosion is enough to wither the best of me

I am an off key note,one so unique and rare

one that earns my place amongst the notes in tune

In order to make the picture perfect melody to ensnare.

How ironic is it, that so often i should descend so far from Elysium

Then rise back up to my brethren only to fall and repeat?

How often must i be in complete state of delirium?

You're so bent on shifting me around like a pawn

As if i am the instrument i play, as if i the one for this pathetic millennium

No more am i yo

ScarsHow funny...how ironic...that this should happen now of all times

How the past can mend a man's future

Leaving it reinforced and intertwined, never to be opened once more

are these scars, for they are my past

What lies upon the skin for all to see, is a reminder

What lies beneath, is the lesson

When and where are the notes in ones memory

Knowledge comes these scars, as does pain

However, the reminders....the lessons...

Bring peace in Hellish times

Bring solitude and atonement for a man's sin

Spare the rod..spoil the child...

Grace comes with the blood of your mistakes

earned through every last confession

Ironic is it not, that o

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Fight or Flight In the Presence of Logic.

by ~GrubbsWriting, Nov 15, 2012, 5:43:31 PM
Literature / Poetry / Sociopolitical / Free Verse

Find your common ground of shedding blood
In the far lands of Else Where,
For here is not the place where bodies should
Fall just short of their own sweat and tears.
It is fear that is the beast you so portray,
And an agenda so immorally laced with false teachings.
Here lies the home, once ancient and grown,
Now rubble in the growing pile
Of humanities excrement.
Its epitaph shall read nothing,
For no words can be written
by the lack of knowledge per this land....
Look your land in its dying eyes,
Listen to its final breaths...
The billowing sands that blow
Erosion into its elderly face.
make your way to the place in which you slumber,
And allow your mind to bestow upon you
Nightmares that bring you to regret your chosen ways of sin,
and method of self-destruction.
Taken by so full of self,
The rotten husk now lies
Half buried in a partially cremated state...
Still a home for its dying cells
The soon to be carcass,
Awaiting the bills of hovering vultures
Over head.