Lyrics From Another's Pen

I remember you. When I am wrapped in darkness, When the world closes her eyes, I remember you.

I think of resting with you, When you finally go to sleep, Meet me in the closet of my heart So that you may lay at my feet.

“Who is this?” they said to me that the wind and waves obey come, let’s hang him on a tree that his reign should pass away but here I am I say to you though you turn away, it is my will to love you for forevermore peace be still, peace be still

I ache for you, When my body cracks and I sigh When I am wrapped in darkness, When the world closes her eyes.

I think of you, When I breath, when I rise and I bow When time passes and when she stands still Then, there, here, now.

“Who is this?” they said to me that the wind and waves obey come, let’s hang him on a tree that his reign should pass away but here I am I say to you though you turn away, it is my will to love you for forevermore peace be still, peace be still

-Showbread, THE SKY (ALPHA)

There just HAS to be a poetic equivalent of speed metal. When I find it I shall die happy.




Is there anything more sound that is as annoyingly pretentious in such a beautiful way? I think not...

I hope it does not seem to dramatic of me...but I really wish this part of me was no more...or could just fade away.

Is this the right way? I sorta want to run screaming in the other direction...a little mixture of comfort and reassurance would rock right about now...

This burning dull sensation.

Hunger for life in its separate ways.

Sanitation inside acting out.

Day by Day burning cleaning sense.

Wow. My poetry depressingly sucks.

More To Go

It is just great. I can hide here in my self pity all the live long day. Neglecting others, neglecting self and rising another mile marker in the name of pride. Isn't it just wonderful, so absolutely wondrous at the absurdity of the stark vulgarity crying out?

Oh dear, can't you just see it all wrapped around your little finger? The dying addictions, the self afflicted cancers that eat away at our precious pretending souls? We claim to know something, to see it all but at the end of the day so very little is left of your world.

You can hear it. I know you can. The high pitched screaming along with the chittering legs of insects running rampant through the very essence of your being.

You can defy everything that is within, dance around the truth and be everything that I knew I never would choose not to be. Lusting for the attention and whoring out the being of myself just so I can please the monolith I raised. Sacrifices and blood pouring from your soul.

Every time and I mean every single time I look into your eyes, gaze into that steel cold reflection of myself...I see every last thing I have ever despised and wanted to kill. Nothing can hope to define the ecstasy of rage that burns in my heart at seeing you, the precious little angel concocted from misplaced sympathy and unadulterated lust.

A bastard child if there ever could be hope of one.

There could never be one I hate more, one I am more disconnected from and one that i will never know so deeply. Ego and super ego, persona and soul. One mind, one body, one flesh and one soul. We are one and the same, yet we are the polar opposite of carnal flesh and supernatural spirit. No hate could ever be met, no demonic screech could math the throes of our battles. Ultimately we are both wrong, both bastards in need of a redeeming wrench from the overwhelming powers of divine wrath.


Sing over me.
Let the waves of ocean flow underneath.
Be still in breath and wait to hear,
The voice of my love.
Sweet and low inside,
flowing within and without this life.
Even within the fevered pitch of my hate,
You have still loved me.

It is so ironic that every time I seek to serve you I just am trying to use you to further my own selfish goals. Every time I stop to talk or listen so often it is nothing more then a thinly veiled attempt at using people for my self gratification and self propulsion.

I'm much to exhausted right now to be able to apologize for it all...but for what little my sincerity is genuinely worth...I am sorry.

Thank You for being so much bigger then me, my failure and what little success I have had. Thank You for your ardent embrace and loving me. Thank you.

I really, really would like to quit now. Please?

Gargh.

I hate being so fricking tired that I can't even fall asleep. Being sick sucks too. Yes, it does.