enslaved to an empire built:
on the dreams of the deceased
and
the blood of their betters
and
on the backs of ghosts, scarred by wicked greed.
we march forward,
at war with everything
but the devils inside.
we march forward
down the same path,
dreaming and,
warring, and
enslaving,
for saving.
blind
to our consent,
we lie
and sink
into a wealth
of pain,
fighting,
with advesary in tow.
soothing in violent calm,
unquenchable and
relentless,
She sweeps the ash from the corners of your soul.
a storm
approaches.
are you ready?
.
gently hurtling towards
inevitability,
let us,
you
&
me,
slip between these
broken moonbeams
and play-
together.
these rainbow
vibes
were never meant for you.
rays
of scattered gold
could only blind.
moles are happy,
I guess,
roaming in the dark.
but moles and phoenix
rarely play
creeping
across cracked
and dry skin like ancient hard cobwebs,
hurts long past
reanimate
zombie traumas.
present
&
past
meet in this moment which
slides
peacefully back
into yesterday.
another lover lost
to inevitable mistrust.
another opportunity missed:
fear flies free.
perfection
in the seeking.
satisfaction
in the journey.
knowing
in the forgetting.
faith
against it all.
and there,
my beautiful friend.
is you.
standing triumphant
& battered with glory.
let us,
together,
fall
until we cleave
to forever.
sifting through
future transgressions,
we find
hope
in
audacity.
we
find
courage
in foolhardiness.
we find
truth
in bemusement.
we find
ourselves….
soaring.
through the
grey cold
of the coming dark,
closed eyes
see
only wonder
and light.
lost in the emptiness of
the long nights,
i settle before
the scrubbed hearth,
lost in a reverie
of endless possibility.
the beauty of Spring,
Summer,
&
Autumn
all wrapped up
within,
feeding this
flame.
such beauty i feel.
such beauty and love.
come walk beside me,
in the fire of my soul,
and I will remind you of the wonders
within yours.
close your eyes.
let us warm ourselves
in the solitude of winter.
cold grey Winter
blows cheerfully on my cheeks.
my numbing toes begin
to tingle with excitement.
my fingers tingle as well.
and,
I sing the third verse
in this song
of love.
this song,
I sing
to you.
letters
and
words
are sacred to me.
I use them
to create.
I connect them
to release my hate.
I juggle them
to relate.
I dance with them
to sketch my fate.
I quilt them together
to kidnap you
for some brief moments of time
and,
when you are in the grasp
of my grandiloquent bombast,
I drown you
in MY worlds
of joy (and fear),
and ego.
I want you to smile
and,
I want you to weep.
I
want
you
to
like
me.
I value myself,
without your praise.
I love
me,
without your clicks.
money cometh
&
money leaveth,
but the soul
(my soul
&
yours too)
knows
true love when it reads it.
What I create may be crap,
but I promise,
I’ll never shit on a page
and try to sell you gold.
“write for the soul
not the metrics” – Augustus Diesel
