My Reasoning for Recycling YouYou’ve always been this thorn in my side Prodding Stalking Perpetually attached to meMy Reasoning for Recycling You
Always needing to be
Just like me But excuse me… This may be my ego speaking
All our lives we search To find our own identities Pardon me, but I would prefer to keep The little that remains of my originality
And one would think After all of these times You would come to realize Things don’t work out sometimes
But you don’t seem to understand No You just never cease To pathetically come crawling back to me
All I Ask of YouThere’s something deep inside of me That’s longing to be freed I’ll hand myself over with all my heart For once, I will succeedAll I Ask of You
If only you could know The torment that fills my mind When day after day, time after time I’m given to solitude, I’m left confined
And it never fails to consume me Without regret or hesitation I cannot fight, I’m giving in To its alluring invitation
You treat me as if I don’t want to be happy Can’t you see? It’s just not there Gaze into this distorted reflection See through this mask I firmly wear &nb
Lullaby of the WidowTaken from the breath of days dawned anew These soiled lullabies mingle upon the breeze Like the wood rose of trauma lived past due Of the mourning widows purged by seas The joyous sounds of the tattered violin Scratching its strings upon the rooftop ledge Mesmerize the thoughts of childish sin As the faith of priests rest parting on edgeLullaby of the Widow
Ah, my sweet empathy, sweet desire
The heart is dishonest in its rhythmic thrash Take from the ashes the soot that churns through fire Through these dusted dreams amongst timeless ash
Indeed you shall take my
Autumn RoseAutumn RoseAutumn Rose
What have I become? Sweet tender lies Prophetic wounds That surrender me to hiding
Your words of wisdom Echo before me Impressing their embrace upon my mind Yet I cannot find the will to listen
I know that time is drawing closer Its walls of experience suffocating my spirit I can only attempt to hold on to you To find myself failing as before
Why do you persist to help me Your self-assured sentiments bring me hope But there’s something in you that’s different There’s something within that struggles
&nb
Last EmbraceAllowing it to be known, predestiny Of that ashen soul in its departure Hoping in its personal scrutiny Divine souls will savor and endureLast Embrace
But how can particular lives be saved, When humanity resides in action, When celestiality, taught in craving, Is taught in the grains of separate factions?
Mere knowledge of a companion's farewell, Simple deviation of time's process, Should be ample beyond a word's dispel; Should be opportune for final finesse
If it ought be time for your soul to take Please allot, in your wake, terminal embrace
DustWords, phrases, scraps of drawings all gathering much like dust, within a journal Sometimes these are chocolate rum cherries except steeped in near tears:Dust
"Daddy do you remember us well when you leave?"
These motes are photographs, memories, thoughts of humanity of moments... Such as joyful holiday songs mixing with grief of death
At times you have to hold
The Fallen AngelOn a day in heaven when swords clashed, When all hope for peace was dashed, There was an angel who spoke against god, Who saw him for the truth, the fraud.The Fallen Angel
He led his army the one third host, To crush god's so ignorant boast, To destroy the maggot god of the weak, To gain the power that he did seek.
But alass he met with great defeat, From the god of such deceit, And falling now he was shattered, Having lost what most mattered.
Shrieking fell the morning star, While his army cried from afar. As he smashed into our planet's face, All
Beautiful BloodCrimson Addict With tattered wrists Scarlet, ripped and torn Crimson Addict Await the kiss Steel as sharp as thornBeautiful Blood
Steel caress against my skin A stained macabre dream Make me crave, desire, obsess Mute my haunted scream
slit rip tear slash You free my soul's harsh cage
Mine passion bittersweet Smear my body magenta You're mine declare magenta
Beautiful Blood Release My drug My own Beautiful Blood
Attempt #2
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"Brother you don't need to turn me away
I was waiting down at the ancient gate"
~Fleet Foxes, "Mykonos"
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Ordinary people get paid to do things. Actors get paid much more to fake it. -Lilly, (Kappa Mikey)
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I know what a prince and lover ought to be.
Ilike your poems ..... congratulations
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Triste realidad, cruel desencanto
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Visita Interiora Terrae Rectificando Invenies Occultum Lapidem
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As an Artist my only weapon are my brushes and canvas. My concept, My idea, The feelings and the drama are the forms that directly flow like blood into the vein of my viewers to open their hearts and minds. My art is my only way to express my anger and pa
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...By this sence of pain, man deduces he is alive... - Franze Kafka 'The Trial'
Everything public is formal
how often do people actually stay
to actually understand
and touch the tides we are...
as movements pull back away to otherness
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always dream even when awake
it confuses the world and lets you defy gravity
me
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