Monday, July 13, 2009

Time Goes By

It seems time goes by so slowly,
like the motion of your fingers.
Tracing their way,
D
O
W
N
To the deepest parts of my soul.
The way your kiss enlights a fire,
rekindling that once lost desire
of wanting to feel another.
And its that way your voice escapes your lips,
in the faintest of melodies.
Of unheard whispers but only in dreams.
And how you leave me breathless,
when I wake to find you gone.
Lay back and think,
of how its been so long.

No Common Simple Man

It is the soul which aches,
for repentence of this sin.
Which is the carnal hunger,
of men.
I shed the skin,
this mortal coil.
That begs for something more,
that forever aches, of the pure.
Which I have soiled,
with the sins of the world.
And I sit before you;
naked of the robe,
that is my skin.
And beg thee:
Love be true,
of no common simple man.

On the Nature of Man

How sad to see those who stand before me,
those I dearly love but shrink from me.
For my unwanted thoughts so piercing,
invade their precious memory.
And they laugh and turn away,
thinking the girl has lost her mind.
And I am but searching for things lost with time.
And this she speaks in tongue,
for surely some are meant to never know.
The things in which she whispers are the talkings of my soul.
And this I am:
The tragic poet, the love of days of old.
The mad artist, as the picture slowly unfolds.
A lover of death, for I've embraced it fondly.
And looked upon life, and its creatures kindly.
But the humans, are far from harmless.
As I'm plagued with the thoughtless.
And I find myself standing alone,
for that is how its always been.
And the Gods have remembered past sins,
in which I have committed.
And this tragedy is,
why I feel at all?
Or why I came to be?
Such a tug of war with myself,
on the nature of humanity.

Thoughtless

It seems I haven't felt such feelings for many a year,
for I cry not and laugh little at what it is you fear.
I succumb to brutality in all its forms, to the harshness of not caring.
For it hurts too much for your denial, of a thought of understanding.
It is too late to even try to change the world it seems,
I am just a sparkling of which they wish to gleam.
But if it be they cared, changed the course in which they pursue.
If only it was something I could possibly see in you.
For I taint the change that will not bare, the fruit of something good.
But there is a place and time for change, for all that is and should.
And be it I hear the voices calling thru the trees,
whispering sweet answers to all this worldly greed.
That beg surrender of man's necessity to make himself higher than thee.
For I can see tomorrow and many thoughts I do ponder,
bring me to my knees.
And I can see you laughing, no thought of after-guessing at what you'll be.
Ashes upon ashes of mortality, singed away for travesties.
Of past transgressions immorally.
That reacheth the heavens of the Gods.

I Like You (Better Dead)

I like peeling away the flesh,
eating the good parts and leaving the rest.
Scratched out those deceiving eyes,
got sick of sorting out your lies.
Finally forgave you when you bled,
noticed I like you better dead.
Broke thru the ribs, smash the heart.
Stuff you, sow you, pulled you back apart.
Ugly on the outside so I searched for pretty,
carved you open and didn't find any.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Judgment

I could tear out my being from this world,
and how many would notice?
I could lay my life on a scale,
and what would I have to show for it?
I don't have much but a mental state,
that is far from being perfect.
But I strive for what you would not understand,
and everything below the surface.
I tear away the shell of man,
and strip away his pride.
For what you have hidden beneath,
are years of welcomed lies.
For I will pound and pound and show,
the weakness in your soul.
That will match the rhythm of my beating,
of the pain in which I know.
For I will rise and rise and flow,
like the ebbing of my soul.
And bring forth secrets well hidden,
that you have yet to behold.
For I have stumbled along this,
this path darkened by time.
And there is no more wishing,
that I could be blind.
There is too much happening,
this hammering in my head.
And I can not get this out of me,
the screams of the dead.
Show me no more what I cant contain,
this beating, beating at my brain.
And slow the anger that is taking over,
and driving me insane.
For I am your judgment,
fate has made me so.
And I will watch you suffer,
as you claw at your hole.
And I will be there to bury you,
not a smile shall I wear.
For I am not wanting to do this,
you chose for me to put you there.

A Projection of Disgust

Reality is a sadist
pointing fingers
to exact revenge
for petty reasons.
Man is a gun
barrell aimed at
the unknown
for fear of anihilation.
And death is acceptance
our eyes will be closed.
No longer able to see
our own insecurities.
We blame others
a projection of disgust.
For undetermined reasons
we kill ourselves.