Abaddon


Is it night or is it day, I cant seem to tell anymore, all the colors seem so muted. A wailing of vexation, the clouds of thunderous silence, forming closer than I’d hoped. The bastardization of a malicious incantation, fix me now, sweet sounding deviation. Hindrance gaining ground, passions waning, secret of the artforms, commiseration. Populace now populating, this pestilence of the damned in waiting. See me from whence I came, to bleed me dry a final flame, senseless truth a crying shame. Feed the bewildered beasts, of festered meats, slurping and slobbering, time to stoop the hollowing, go reap the wallowing. Entwined, I do break bread, err to whisper, do i feel dead. Spent and warn, failure of the first born, set upon, the seekers swarm. The king of locusts comes, bringing torment, and lamentation, laying waste to all creation. Abaddon, the place of destruction, with sands of crumbling flesh and bone, lightning strikes glassing these fields of omen. The beast comes to bear, seated at the head of the table, with Kain and Abel. It’s the last supper now, with remnants of decay, fear not this coming age, the world is ours, so give it rage.

Coming Conclusion


I want to see the sky, I want to see you lie, these words aren’t meant for you, there meant for I. Idolatry, iconoclastic, take me passed this burning matchstick. Robbed of sight and hard of hearing, lead astray to life’s grand clearing. Does the night yet long for the day, lingering fraught with agony and dismay. The tortured soul fixed between two equal impossibilities, and the walls are closing in. I feel as if I could drown in the shallow end of my intention, the weight of a decision still creeping beyond apprehension. What makes a man, how come no one seems to understand, that I wake up everyday, alone and in pain. A pain, I can not see, or taste, or touch, I’ve felt it for so long now, a desire to be known. Though, I fear I’ll miss the serene silence I’ve become accustomed to, wondering if making an impression, is really worth the trouble. Will I be a dead poet in a society of some distant future, before I finally make, my mark on the world.

Stop looking


just for tonight stop looking……
to discover whats already here…
so where does my adventure begin,
what great ocean awaits….
i must first define what i need to stop looking for so i can know myself, but not what i imagine myself to
be, because the person i dream of, is an illusion blocking me from the truth. i imagine a man, great, noble, brilliant, but also; licentious, corrupted, and insane; i imagine a man wanting the best for the world, to see all suffering eradicated and true utopia arise as humanity reaches for its full potential, and yet; lustfully dreams of destruction for all things, to drag the world so far down, our eyes sufficate in the all consuming shroud of darkness, and the sounds of the dying…the cries of the dead…, become a continuum of agony, as dystopia desends upon humanity, they reach for the ashes of a broken future.
that is who i imagine i am….
but i also imagine a “real” version,
a secondary illusion…
i see a ghost, a watcher, moving through life on an empty train, looking out through the window, time moves fast, only lingering on the times i should have been, i often wonder; wandering from instant to
instant, why am i, who am i, where do i belong, the world turns to dust as i watch the home movies of my life over…..and over, trapped inside the misery of my own soliloquy. a solitary existance, carefully planning one move to the next, trying to avoid failure, but failing to start playing. i also see a shadow, silent, guarded, and afraid; quietly afraid of what i have to say, i fear I’m hiding who i am today, always living behind, the times eroding my memory, what do i do, when will be to late, why…..?, these things i say inside my head, as the world eclipses me, my eyes bleed, clearly i taste the bitter reality, all i have is nothing, a glass waiting and just that, the substance of my forfillment is unobtainable, and yet
inescapable….on a ghost train to nowhere…..
and now…….what is left?………

Quiet Rambling


I’ve learned so much, yet know so little, I speak so much lesser, then this disquieted mind can muster. Fevered dreams and fervent feelings, thine tongues twisted epithets, grace such cold dark spaces of this hollow universe. The graying of my eyes, an entropic merger of both light and dark, a consolidation of my shadow, with the neverending radiance of my soul. How hath thouest come to bear such great burdening, at the behest of the world. Why doth this time stand so devoid of mystery, adventure, and purpose. What is left in this world, but the lonely ancient remnants of a history forgotten.

Master


This world might as well be the surface of mars to me, a barren unforgiving landscape, providing a neverending trial, of emptiness. Just pretend there’s no one here, just pretend your in a blank world, operate as if you, are the only actor left behind the curtain. Why simply stare, starved of enduring meaning, to be stricken with such cruel loneliness. To see the dull destiny that awaits, a premonition of bottomless ambition, devoid of solid ground, no further can I rise passed this fated day, beleaguered like the coming age, sidelined before I could even play. Raptured by the wrapping serpent, constrictor,  forcing my corpses heart to yet linger, beating beats beyond burden, grasping grown grievances gluttonous gorge, feeling fragments finely festering, deeply burrowing, sickening my state of mind. Drop the act, that everything is ok, destroyed now, just breathing in the pain. Go on now, master of the tamed…..

Beast of Burden


As a starved beast, of more than just life sustaining morsels. Doth thine hunger set truest desire a breast of proper course. Lead me to haunted shores, my heart doth lament, feed me this fear. these captured tones speak, in the volumes of a book, whose true words remain hidden between the pages. So too doth thy ravenous jaws hang dripping, over tender prize, less a true grasping, just a scent to tide me over, until a lasting impression comes upon me. Such desiccated dreams dry like thick blood, pooling at the seams of eyes yet to open. How hath thou wrought such woeful turbulence, from whence doth fiery echoes dolorous translation, beckon hither thine ashen grave. You eat up all my empty feelings, calling away all the lonely meanings. Oh sullen beast of yore, I pray thee be unfacile, truly understanding my feckless plight. Lend me now your unearthly might, so that I may yet learn what it means, to fight. Suffer no more, of surrenders cruel fate, step forward with miles of conviction. Never see another day unfulfilled, let weightlessness come to all your burdens. Arise kneeling atlas, for you now hold the world in the palm of your hands.

Exoskeleton


What really am i doing here?….

We each see the world through the lens of our minds, which begs the question… why is it this, that i see?, why is the world so lesser to me? I’m sick…of all this, why do i see nothing that makes living worth it? I want to be touched, I want to be felt, I want to be known by someone so deeply. But if ever I want to possess such a thing, I become empty; I retreat inward where no one can find me. like a serpent, crawling its way back through skull and bones, as it creeps further and further, the skin petrifies into a hard crust, my eyes sinking into pits of darkness; Finally leaving myself closed off to this world.

Now, to those who still want me, lets try love, just try to feel love from my animated corpse, what do you feel? Is it nothingness?…that is what you get from me, this exoskeleton that is I. You steal a kiss, but find brimstone, you hold me close to feel loved, but pull away, before being swallowed by the stark realization of how lesser you are to an infinite void. I have made my exit from this plain, until you can’t love me, until you no longer want to feel me, until you no longer want to know me.
So many things stand in shadow, too many things unknown, about me….

And the perpetrator and reason for my doom, is I, nothing bad happned to me that i did not control,
that i did not wish. everything that I am, is of my design, not yours, not theirs, not its….mine.
The things i like, the things i hate, and the things i want, all broken just the way i left them, lying twisted and tormented. the shame, the guilt, the pleasure, the pain, the sadness, the hurt inside i can not contain, anymore.

and i love it….

watch me run down my face, as i smile so softly, whispering, do you love me, do you need me, do you
see me, how long will i stay risen…this time.
the expression of my god…
see through the blood..what do you see…………..
do you know what eyes look like when their dead…pale, frozen, stuck, but still looking.

Now isn’t that funny….

The reason i don’t want love, is because when i see, i see someone else, other, changed, lost. Not
someone but something, a fixture in this world, acting, moving, subsisting like a piece of machinery.
Nothing to see here, nothing to say, nothing to be but this decay. I did feel somthing once, a decade ago, I did taste but a grain of love. That is why i can not forget, that is why i am forever haunted; this chasened mind comprehends what it doesn’t want to know, and never forgets what it can’t stand to remember.

I think im dangerous, but I won’t do anything about it……I’m just the way i like it.

Where is my Mind


These things I have locked in a desire, so much so, that I strive to attain even a hint of there looming presence. Though, they but turn to ash and fade away, upon there moments of discovery. Can I not be promised but one selfish need. Why do I yet hide these pieces of myself? My hopes and dreams, my wants and desires, they stand but a closely guarded secret. Do I fear, if I breathe life into their agency, they will fly off into the stars without me. Forced to act with no time to think, am I truly living, if I’m scarcely behind my actions. An incongruous person, at a conjunction of spheres, the crossroad, of do I live or do I die. I often sit and ponder at this precipice; it brings me comfort, existing where most wait a lifetime to reach. The perfect lonely prospect, a place where emptiness has a purpose, nothing to take, and nothing to lose. Though, imagining being carried apart from this world, by the ferryman, I cant help but call out, asking a world beyond me now…..

did you ever truly need me? Or was I just dreaming, you ever really cared?…………….

Eternal Road


what is it that i want…
is it love I desire, companionship, someplace to keep my mind, and another to keep my heart. why do these tears softly roll down my cheeks, those things i claim not to feel, hurt so deeply. These things i know do not exist, make me believe, in a brighter future. what is this life i’ve been living, i would asked you to show me something, to dissuade me, to put me back on the path i have so vigeriously tread, for so many a years hence. but nothing, no harbinger of truth, no shown revelation to be had or heard of. in which life do i lead, in which life do i belong. if she says it’s with me, then that is my life, if she never speaks, if she never tells me to belong with her, then its the outsiders path, the pariahs wake, the man who thinks hes a demon, who thinks its a god, who thinks they are beyond the universe. the path of eternal seeking, infinite wanting, undying yerning for someting i may never know, i may never see.
but i asked you to show me something, anything to dissuade me. why wont you cast off this illusion, of
life worth living, a typical life has no meaning, the forever searching, is the only justifiable way, the only
right of nature, my truth is waiting, waiting for her answer. will she tell me where to belong? with a word, or silence. where do i belong?…..with her, or do i keep on the lonsome road ulysses spoke of, and seek my absolution. my eternal search for my reflection, all the immortals are lost, and most find their grave before their destiny. i will never give in, i will never give myself rest, for my true nature lies in eternity, my life interwoven in the fabric of extrauniversal reality. the man, the demon, the god, the trinity seeking something beyond them selves,
maybe, breif moments of peace can arise throughout infinity. but, i guess that too, is something i have to find as well. to eternity then, and may the dark always beget the light.

The Forest Lies Beyond


Its caustic eyes devour the light. The sparks of inspiration bloom in the stark blackness a universe long. They filter the world unable to stand even looking at themselves now. each new trial of pain allowing for admittance to a new depth of agony. I venture further still entrenched in a belief to malinger my way through this forests estranged path. The fog a vanishing point for the trees both past and future, the suns ethereal shine piercing, a touched warmth and spring breeze compose a nostalgic feeling of innocence. The small valley hence beseeched by the dark epitaph in extended periphery. An opulent struggle of colors wasted in a place known by only a worlds faint whispers. A contrast of careful footsteps against the woodland songs carried on the wind, a delicate balance between man and nature, the intertwining realization loost upon the falling leaves. The sultry quiet peace of the smoothly flowing streams, lingers but a jealous moments breadth. The simple bespoken urgency trivialized in both form and purpose. haunting tones reverberating resounding resonance, enchanting with a romantic embrace of turning anticipation. The perfumed essence hanging upon the throat, to a narrowing vision of just a single note. Silence now, sleep to dreams unsettled, never to wake again or see the forest through the trees.

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