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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 foundation, covered like an
inside out tree trunk,
bearing the rings of weary age,
made thin for a coming layer of time.
This pathetic life laid out
across a once perfect foundation,
cut down, cracked and eroded.
Held up with shaky hands
and weak knees by
the exhausted machine,
It's screams are mute through
the blotted out voices of the people,
The very c
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 words of accusation to that accursed dashed line.
For it had found it's end here at the edge of the peak of my growing mountain.
It grew into the abyss of a night sky, and ominous was my anticipation.
The stars that as a child I had wished upon were closer than ever,
and they burned bright with suspicion.
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 the marks are left.
feathers in air, and hooves in earth.
Found in my perception,
blurred but far from blind,
They have long since fooled me...
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 motions...I am set up to be tested.
I don't even recall when the sun was consumed by this storm,
I have walked for as long as I can remember....
Good God, my Lord, my King so kind! Is this path where men do perish,
the path on which my chains are dragged?!
I mean no blasphemy to a pair of all hearing ears,
but I can only do so much to make hidden my obvio
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.
The Journey of a Thousand Miles
"Lead us on to insomnia's end, Where solitude awaits our weary hearts.
The sustenance required to our souls lies
there in the arms of patience.
Assist us in our wake as prayer affects not our tired limbs upon this journey. These two of your flock die not, as time heals, yet the end of this is welcome. We beg of thee, calling out to the silence into
to which our faith is placed.
The path is dark with black fog of this nocturnal threat. Bring to us, light. As it is now that our dreams are what wither with time, even as they heal. Our exhaustion is only diverted for a short time
by the bond between us.
Pray we that our cries are heard, echoing through the confines to Heaven.
Let not a limit come from malicious source,
to this our angelic breed of passion."
"Right is my love as he suffers my pain by connection, yet where we go, we go together.
Though distance dwindles the pleasure,
the connection has only become longer.
Much I have to say before our Lord in regards to these two hea
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,
the floods that make the seed grow,
as there is no progression without conflict.
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.
From ash did man come,
as will my world reborn before my very eyes.
As never a means to an end was this destruction.
A world reborn, one day my own, to share with my fellow kind.
I open my eyes, only to see the dreams of god come true at last.
4. From Omphalos and Into the War Zone
The arachnid turned, and receded to the peak of the structure,
The creatures stood as still as the trees,
And soon, they too did retreat back to whence they came in the woods.
A powerful gust came to my shoulders,
And at a drumming pace did it come from above…
My ears then beheld in amazement, the beating wings.
The numbers were the sort that would leave you speechless,
Endless were the children of Creation, loyal to a dying & holy breath,
Swooping down, as their passing pulled me back towards the edge.
Here began my free fall from Omphalos and into the War Zone.
Past the maze which I once did tread, descending the mountains side,
Back down to my place of origin to this journey, where my rose was received.
There did I land as a shade, untouched by what I was to witnessed,
Yet still petrified and still did I stand,
Alike my putrid corpse that was feet from my feet.
My out of body experience found interruption from surrounding eyes,
Inhuman and many, outnumbering the shine and
Senryu of Spring Courting1
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
Father GodI created people to need and love one another. That never changed, even when sin entered into the world. Yet in spite of my desire for loving harmony, families often make a mess of their relationship.
I warned David that his sin would cause problems within his family. Ultimately, after simmering and planning for two years, one of David's son killed the other in vengeance for their sister. If only they had sought me in the process...I love to help families secure and strengthen their bonds.
I believe in family. I believe in family so much that I'm building an eternal home for mine. Meanwhile, I'm right here in the midst of your earthly family-and my heart's desire is to help you come together in peace and mutual love. Just call on me for guidance. After all, I'm a Father. I want to help my children.
Stockholm's DollI'm so superficial and vain,
I glisten like plastic in the rain,
I tic and toc,
Just like a clock,
I move were you say,
So I am not in the way,
Orders move my gears,
You take away my fears,
When they look they see your doll,
There's no real me left at all,
I was broken a long time ago,
Stuffed in a box six feet below,
Beneath your harsh words and harsher fists,
Days tied up with rope burned wrists,
Nights I'd cry myself to sleep,
Now I obey without a peep,
I'm so perfect and vain,
My eyes glisten without the rain.
the foot path
that runs along a stream
near where he works,
first touch upon us there
waiting for the wild plum
his morning rituals
a cold overcast from the bay—
winter, like a lover I've
grown tired of
who is loath to leave
upstairs, wrapped in velour
we looked out at
bare branches yesterday,
a riot of
tender new green today
after dinner and the taste
of take-out kisses,
the hush of a
winter founders out to sea
teacups gently rattle
on the nightstand
as we turn in unison,
leaving new rings
in the light of a half-moon
last spring, I couldn't walk
the day so fair, yet
a gull flies inland
pulling back the blinds,
my body adorned with
from a spring moon rising—
resting, he lies watching
fat and content
with its short life
a barn-sour horse
of hot air balloons
at the zoo-
sneaking a grope
by the python cage
on an inverted leaf-
car window down
leaves and voices drifting in
highway stretches far
but not far enough-
early morning walk
and church dogs
soccer ball out of bounds
for the ice cream truck
the ciggies Dad left
ten years ago
Glimpse of FaithI have battled through enough tomorrows
Without any reassurance that matters would get better.
I have walked in the ashes of the deceased
In all of the yesterdays that I have no remembrance of.
I have hoped when darkness was the answer;
When life had given up on me like today.
I have loved when I have lost
Like the repetitive years that kill me daily.
I have given up and made a bloody mess of myself
As a light of faith had finally been seen.
I have continued to live even when Death was behind me,
For I saw a glimpse of my deepest wish be true.
…a hint of happiness is all I ask for…
… but not just for me…
… for others that have seen enough deadly tomorrows…
… give them that glimpse of faith that tomorrow will soon be the past
and it will be a faded story inside a dusty book…
because no one told me it would be
Gentle CannibalWithout a breeze to soothe my body,
or salvage a mind
from the dripping tide of cicadas,
the midnight of summer begins to
lift its mantle from where you crouch,
and comes to honor me.
My gentle cannibal,
with eyes of hemorrhaging iris,
the jaundice of your nakedness,
translucent from the moon rings
your lips pulled as if in pain.
The fever of your touch traces
every rung of dappled trellis
from the faux shadings of a lunar day.
Give me my sweet plunder of ripe figs
as you bend me like a bow that will snap,
or have you already bitten me to the bone.
EdenSaid God, despite perfection found in Three:
"Let there be another in this place,
And let him reflect glory back to me."
"Tis naught but a reflection of my face;
Mankind shall rule a garden, bear a name.
So let there be another in this place."
Trees bear fruit and helpers bear the blame--
Serpents striking heels will be retried.
Man has ruled a garden, borne a name.
Reflecting former glory mankind cried;
His failing cast a shadow on such love.
Serpents striking heels will be retried.
Oh man who stands as icon, not enough;
Still one more will come to stand as king.
Man's failing cast a shadow on such love.
Victory will come, the garden sings.
Said God, despite perfection found in Three:
"Still one more will come to stand as King,
And let him reflect glory back to me."
Only Time Will Tell
Only time will tell the stories which believe.
The marks of the bottom line are where fate deceive.
The script written as a preemptive strike,
Never read over, improve prevents the rewrite.
Where is she with her smile t light the way through this maze?
Back home, going through her own, counting the days.
With Him above and he below,
My fear to every stepping stone I do bestow.
Only time will tell the stories that I believe!
Only within this fallacy does faith in me not leave.
I beg, I beseech, I plead, I pray for my endless prayer to be heard.
Lest apathy overtakes me without a care...without a word.
The marks on the bottom line are where fate deceive...
So only time will tell me the stories which I believe.
Red Letter Day - Prologue
So here I am, writing.
I’m writing, I’m writing – just as you told me to.
I’m writing, I’m writing, I’m writing.
Have you ever noticed that when the sun goes down, this flat changes? It does. The walls are white during the day and lingering brown at night. During the day, I’m with you and the light from outside paints the walls that heavenly color. But when that sun goes down, the demons wake and I’m alone again, even though you’re just a room away.
Somehow it seems less threatening tonight, and I think it’s because you’ve given me an assignment to try and fight off the darkness. You gave me a stack of papers and a pen and told me to write everything that comes to mind.
It’s a strange feeling to have complete freedom. These empty pages are mine to do whatever I please – I could even wipe my ass with them – but they’re also terribly intimidating. The blank page has always been a nemesis of man. It&
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