Dedicated to Her Enemy

Through the binomial nature of nomenclature
comes the stain of the past. It's no woner you hate her.

Through the corridors you file, being caught by denial,
and never escaping the clutches of Belial.

The past is still a dream, and no mortal hears you scream,
and the serpents still rise through the dust & the steam.

The future is still unclear, and it's still fraught with fear,
and still not a damned thing left that you can hold dear.

Ellipsis.

The deep set eyes of one who knows,
one who sees, but never shows...
The tunnel vision of one with faith,
but one whose thoughts are full of hate...

The only antidote is what these needles bring,
the joy that can come forth whenever you sing...
But these interludes & faint distractions only come so often,
and in the meantime all I see is closure in a coffin...

Bleeding now, the question stands,
the evidence is on these hands...
Slipping now, the question will fall,
and the casket will still roll down the hall...

At One, At Once

As we sailed into the seas of uncharted desperation,
there is nothg but your absence to cause exasperation.
While love was once a mystery, a journey not worth taking,
loneliness is now a forgotten friend, a pain not worth faking.

You took my hand and showed me strength never before on display,
and made me question everything, even how I'd lived this way.
Fear became the enigma, courage sitting on my shoulders,
where once I'd sit right in the back, I now show up much bolder.

So, how come when I've only just found you, you must go away,
if I want to keep on talking to you, I must learn to pray...?
I know I'll undertake this, though, with all that you have taught me.
I'll face up everyday, now, with these new eyes that you brought me.

1/4

I've been dead for 25 years
and way too many shirts are soaked through with tears.
I've been laughing myself through the anger
and everyday brings a brand new set of fears.

I've been dead for 25 years
and seen the demise of all my inspiration.
I've scratched words of faith in my skin
and everyday I'm closer to complete desperation.

I've been dead for 25 years
and 15 of those since childhood's end.
I've been told that I was unwanted
and everyday I'm forced to remember again.

I've been dead for 25 years
punching the clock as the system's new toy.
I've been sure that I was important
but everyday I know I'm just a scared little boy.

Snowed In

Last night we broke the threshold
and peeked through the crack in the door.
This morning we felt the new mold
as it slowly built up on the floor.

Last night we laughed like gods on fire,
every single object was there for the taking.
This morning we shade ourselves from the pyre
knowing all the kind words were just sycophants faking.

Last night our lives were sworn away by credo & by word.
We knew absolutely everything; the only way was all the way.
This morning, though, all vision is doubt, everyone is blurred,
and we know damn well we don't know shit, except fear of a new day.

Exascerbate Hate

...first will fall the despots of falsely favored nations
sleeping in peace, waking to obliterations
next will find the middle class succumbing to decrees
finding all new kinds of pain, crawling on their knees...

...and death will be a welcome burden to all of the faithless
clutching straws while losing flaws as fire melts their faces
falling victim to the kingdoms we had left abandoned
knowing only retribution, loading up their cannons...

...burn the pages of the holy books to fight the cold
as sleep becomes a luxury, a pasttime of the old
all the questions fading now and none of them are answered
as boils, locusts, red rivers replace what we called cancer...

...hypocrisy was killing me before this deadly winter
the pain I had to wallow in now no more than a splinter
for our will has taken us down and everyone is screaming
Cerberus slowly salivates, the River Styx is teaming...

'Matthew 19:24' or 'Accounts Receivable'

You just keep sucking that dick of infiniti,
proud to be the bane of divinity,
chasing that shit till you fall behind,
then seeking the holy to crawl behind.

The pockets are full & the paper is folded.
The wife is in bed & the kids have been scolded.
You pretend not to seek the help of the wiser,
while swallowing scotch & products from Pfizer.

Awake to the miracle and know your sin,
and seeing the crush of the ego begin.
The walls are still closing, the knees cannot bend,
and the soul is the last thing that you try to mend.