Friday, May 6, 2011

No reason

Todays are yesterdays tomorrows
Forgotten and cast aside
As I bleed

Is this me?....

As the dark consumes me
All I can do is breath my existence
Cloaked in the controversy of my situation
It envelopes and closes my eyes

Shivers from the chill of the open door
Paralytic from the answers that need questions
Reveal all to me from the depths
Then the child shows me the vision

Plunder me to despair
Crying out for the last scream that languishes on my tongue
Throw them away as lonely as I am
Caress the silver chains following the inscription

Torn from the inside crimson tides cover the wall
Chaliced escapes ride from my mind
Outcast from the paranoid living in my private hell
Poisoned heartbeats pleasuring the self believed

Ride the bullet to my existence of purity
Taste the reasoning as it melts through the hardness
Gripped in talons of grave misfortunes
Devour the blackness as it were your own

Bark profanities from the porcelain stage
If the fuckers could only hear beyond their own insecurities
So when is it coming gripped by the fog and fire
As I raise a hand blessed in the resurrection of the confused

Journey beyond grief and walk on the wire
Question the intention of all willing souls
Kiss kiss and taste the cursed in this spittle of hate
Protected, this horde of angels that creep single platitudes upon the misguided

I still believe in yesterdays forgiveness as if forgotten
Compromised by the ink that beguiles this soul
I let the rain wash over me
So I can cleanse the fucked up soul misrepresented on these darkened pages

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Laureate

Melancholy sweeps of the quill
Scribe the parchment in seas of vermilion
Visionary illusions fabricate emotional sensations
As the good scribe transcends the night

Flickering shadow men dance on the walls
Overseeing, as the muse guides the Laureate
Flickering light as the flick of a wrist
Charges surreal landscape with the dreams of the forlorn

By the morning the story is bed
Word forms of letters transcend mere men
Betwixt the lines lies the true tale
A heart broken and punctured by a vanity