Tell Me

Tell me something
Is it better
To burn out?
Or to fade away?

Is it better
To go out on top?
To die in a blaze of glory?
To leave with an untarnished legacy?
To be legendary? Immortal?

Or rather
Carry on past your best days?
Disappear into the world like an infinitesimal speck?
Leave behind a blemish on your reputation?
Grow imperfect? Laughable? Forgotten?

Is it better
To disappear at your prime?
Or drag on past your time?

I think you know

My Second Shadow

A broken soul
A sharpened knife
A world of sin and strife
Such is my way of life

I burned something many a year ago
When I did I saw my foe
Standing as a gargoyle in the snow

It had horns aflame
In them I saw my name
A man who had come to me to lay his claim

His burning flames swallowed me whole
Never in my life had I felt so cold
The icy flames eating away at my soul
Where my soul existed was now a hole

His burning hands took hold
Of my mind, body, and soul
With them he began to mold
Creating a creature of angst and a heart ice cold

I had become, in essence, a crow
Wherever I went, I brought death and woe
For in life, my soul was once was pure as snow
But its death gave birth to a second shadow

How It Goes

You try so hard
Against temptation you stand your guard
But all you gain is a soul scarred

Everything you knew is falling
They can hear your soul calling
The sound of the scrapes of its nails from crawling

"An A for effort" some say
You scream back to them "nay"
As the sky and all you know turns to ash and gray

It was like a nuclear fallout
Now stumbling in a world full of doubt
Living in a world of things you can live without

Tears stream down your cheek
Words jumbled together as you speak
Showing that you are naught but cowardly and weak

You're me now
Voice alone
Sleeping on a new nail bed
Like a flashlight on but lost

Soon you learn
That we all have to burn something
Because that's simply
How it goes

Dark Light

They run
Towards the demons of want and greed they charge
Piercing cries resound throughout the world

It starts to rain
The muddy ground slowing them evermore
The angels and spirits swallow the demons whole
Binding the beasts to their holy chains

The spirits of God fight ferociously
They believe the end has come
The seraphs fight to cleanse this realm

They battle for freedom
They fight not for their lives
But for the light
Hoping to wander the planes of existence without sin

The beasts on the other side stand still
These demons do not fight
For they know the truth

The creatures of desire and impeccable evil
They know more than the pure of heart
These demons need not fight

For they know
That the closer the angels draw to the light
The longer their shadows become

Storms on the Rise

Dark clouds flying overhead
Blocking out the sun
Shrouding the world in a second darkness

A treacherous time it may be
Thieves are afoot
Stealing and killing for their own selves

Shadows looming over all
Towering over what little innocence remains
Burning their images to the ground

Day turns to night
People unable to behold the sight
Overtaken by fear they make flight

The Grand Architect sits atop a hill
Humming its song at the other edge of the world
Orchestrating the end of times

Curiouser and Curiouser

A watery tank sits in a field
The thought eater of the world
At the edge of all existence

The Devil's hands cannot touch it
Neither can God's

It hums loudly day and night
Overbearing it's victim's plight
A single man at the edge of the world

A whirling dervish rides to the edge
Leading an army of God's angels
Against the Devil's forces they march

The tank sits in the middle of the fray
Humming its song

Anyone Else

You realize
That you are not
Better than anyone else
Not better
Than everybody else

All my life
I've had to Be
Better than everyone else
Just to Be loved
By anyone else

You are not better
Not better than anyone else
You are worse
Worse than everyone else

Worse?
It sounds like
Your self-esteem got the
Better of you

When there is no one else
I will always
Always be here for you
No one else

I love you
I have
I do
I will

Say it back
For once in your life
Say it back

If not to me
Then anyone
Anyone else

A Touch from the Blue

In Life
The only thing we feared
Was Death

But what if
Death was taken away?

What if
Life was forced back through the lips of the orphaned soul?
A longing for the now unattainable death

I have seen the colour of God's hands
They do not reside in Heaven
But down here on Earth

A touch from the blue is all it takes to change the garden's scheme of colour

Suicide Risk

Heart pounding
Pulse rising
Thoughts finally unclouded

He can see the end in sight
The light at the end of the tunnel is bright
The scent of death was never more inviting

The creaking door opens
It's cocked and at the ready
His chum enters as normal
Unaware of the events yet to come

"You're the only person who ever cared about what I did"
"What are you talking about dude?"
"I just wish my parents would see me the way you do"
"What?"
"Goodbye"




Goodbye

Why I Write

when i was younger, i never really understood the importance of writing. i just saw it as something you did for book reports and essay questions on tests. then when i turned eleven (i think), the whole concept of writing became something entirely different to me. i found it as a way to express my thoughts, argue (competently), critique others, and just have fun with it. i no longer wrote for homework and projects; i started writing simply for the sake of writing. i was suddenly thrust into this world where i could create things, be they terrifying, emotional, or just a string of random thoughts.

then something else came along. the world of poetry (which i see as something completely separate from writing) exploded in my face. it was such a curiosity for me. the deep layers of emotion and complex thought that lay between those verses was greek to me. then one day, i picked up a pen and began ink the broken thoughts that have lain in my mind for years. i realized then that this crude journal i was penning resembled something like the poems of lore i read so often. for a moment, i felt as though for a moment, i could see into the minds of those poets and could feel what they felt.

as for now, my mind is in a blur. nothing is clear. nothing is concrete anymore. everything in my head is a jumble of mixed emotions and uncertainty. i try to straighten things out in this maelstrom by writing down whatever comes to mind to see if i can make sense of it, but it doesn't help. i fear i will sail on these trackless seas forever.

She Died and We Did Nothing

Jeanne!
She died and we did nothing

The tromp of the beast grows louder
The clash of metal resounding throughout the halls

You will pay for what you did to her
But you will not be forgiven!

The blade finds its fatal mark
The piercing screams shake the night

Jeanne...
She died and we did nothing

She died

And we watched

Something Is Wrong

We shouldn't be here

tick tock

She tugs at my arm
Motioning me to run

tick tock

A man is running this way
He looks mad
No
He looks

Desperate

tick tock

Something Is Wrong