In the Ashes of Eden...

In the ashes of Eden
searching for its promise
as if it's not already broken

Feet drift through the remnants
in the ashes of Eden
The fire's heat now tepid soot
The flame's height now hanging smog

Hands sift through what's left
in the ashes of Eden
presently and intently scouring
for fragments of a damned-age past

In the ashes of Eden
lush life no longer grows
but blackened living souls
place roots inside this urn
away from fertile soils

In the ashes of Eden
-not the meadows of Zion
-not the terrestrial ranges of earth
Lives stagnantly cycle from ashes to ashes
never blooming or blossoming
between the dust and dust

In the ashes of Eden
smoldering in the dark and gray
the heat fading far away
in the final frozen days

Doing Nothing...

In the, echoes
of the lack of sounds
Memories, repeat
as this abyss resounds
Nothing, Nowhere
the vacancy surrounds
Doing, nothing

In thoughts, my mind
has nothing to say
In speech, my words
seem so far away
Others, just laugh
dismiss me with the day
Doing, nothing

All that's not, and never was
Is this all I've got?
All effects, without a cause
Is this what I bought?

Walking, along
steps without a stride
Drifting, around
on a stagnant ride
Even in, bright lights
I still darkly hide
Doing, nothing

Faces, I see
masks that come and go
All their, names are
labels just for show
Who they, might be
none will ever know
Doing, nothing

Lost in thought, and never found
oblivion's guest
Turn it over, round and round
till dizzily I'm blessed

Going, to sleep
in hopes that I'll wake-up
All my, dreams here
are nightmares giving-up
In the, dark I
feel like rising up
Doing, nothing
doing, nothing

Nothing...

It seems as if my efforts
have amounted to nothing
So it is only natural
that my efforts become nonexistent

If everything amounts to nothing...
then what is anything?
what is nothing?

Whatever nothing may be
there will be plenty of it
If that's a shame
don't worry
(It's nothing)

The Dead That Kill...

the desperate and demented
the never-to-be contented
In blood that's shed or boiled
In plots they've finished or foiled
the death remains within them
as the kill cannot resend them

Life is but an act
a lie and not a fact
for the murderers of this age
that kill without a rage
then calmly turn the page
Plotting scenes to fill the stage

They direct these horrid scenes
leaving riddles of what it means
for them to take away
for them to choose the way

they lurk inside the shadows cast
from the darkness of some sordid past
and erase reflections of their dark
compelled by this to leave a mark
one to blot-out all they see
that they believe should never be

It's the mad that reflect the madness
that hide behind some simple sadness
the love of life and hate of death
cannot together fill a breath
as hatred growls and love but sighs
one sound swells as the other dies

The dead that kill are always there
even when lost inside a stare
they cannot live and will not die
even though they sometimes try

To mourn them as all mourn the dead
is to open veins that will be bled
their poison infiltrates all tears
and preys upon both souls and fears

One must not cry and must not rage
at the sight of horror in cage
to keep them separate or put them down
will still not cleave the verb from noun

So long as evil lurks in men
the same will be of all that's been
the dead that kill are part of life
just be careful around the proverbial knife
for every blade that slices through
can easily be the death of you

Tomorrow We Die...

There's writing in the sky
...Tomorrow We Die...
Sound like a lie?

...Tomorrow We Die...
On billboards up high
    ...Tomorrow We Die...
On grand marquees-
  the light hits my eyes
       ...Tomorrow We Die...
I cannot help but sigh
  thinking I might know why
 ...Tomorrow We Die...

Surrounded by the signs
 with every step I watch for mines
How can others be so careless
  Has caution gone
The world, it seems so reckless
  so much going wrong

Eyes fixed upon the signs
 ...Tomorrow We Die...
Sight trapped within the lines
      ...Tomorrow We Die...
 The vitality this undermines
          ...Tomorrow We Die...

Forgetting each today
for ...Tomorrow We Die...
So many pasts are lost this way
(fearing) ...Tomorrow We Die...
Plot the final words to say
because-   ...Tomorrow We Die...

...Tomorrow We Die...
    ...Tomorrow We Die...
         ...Tomorrow We Die...

Why must such somber sentiments
Inhabit today's torn tenements
Why doesn't it dawn sooner
than in hours all too lunar
...Tomorrow We Die...
    ...Tomorrow We Die...
         ...Tomorrow We Die...

For now there's still the night
and whatever day still left in sight
  to prevail despite this plight
...Tomorrow We Die...
    ...Tomorrow We Die...
         ...Tomorrow We Die...

Today is not the fight
today is all that's right
...Tomorrow We Die...
    ...Tomorrow We Die...
         ...Tomorrow We Die...

The Hunger and the Hollow...

The mind wants more than flesh
and the flesh can't comprehend
The wounds remain so fresh
and the scars can't fully mend

This thoughtful meat will hunger
to fill its empty aches
and be consumed with wonder
at all this hunger takes

The hunger and the hollow
Polarity in place
To flee or just to follow
in either keeping pace

The mind can't fill its void
As thoughts are never full
The madness of this soul
Forever so annoyed

The hunger and the hollow
in emptiness they stay
and filled with all they swallow
they keep their needs at bay

All the world in yearning
from hungry/hollow needs
The emptiness that's burning
echoes as it pleads

Bring something to the nothing
that swallows every bite
Discuss how it's disgusting
or how it's only right

The hunger and the hollow
in flesh and blood and mind
this temple of Apollo
that's lost in every find

Succeeding Alone...

When you try alone
it will be merely tolerated
monitored with mocking shuns

If you prevail on your own
it must be evaluated
amidst resent and puns
Your work will be discredited
and you will be despised

If your work holds-up
You will be discredited
despite what you've devised

If you don't give-up
they'll shower you in praise
and welcome you in their embrace
claiming you among their own

If you decline them in their ways
they'll swear and spit in your face
exile you, banish and disown

If you welcome your abandon
and remain strong in isolation
they'll truly hate and fear you
and surely seek to kill you

After desperate defamation
they'll recklessly abandon
their every truth and virtue
to justify to hurt you

If you live on
they'll just ignore you
until they do forget

If you're not gone
they'll conflate you
with impostures, fakes, clones

and when they do erase you
if you're alive or under stones
there you'll have succeeded
and become your very own

from there those that would join you
must learn to walk alone
and somewhere else they'll find it
the only thing to truly own
succeeding all alone

Killer Inside Me...

In the primitive voice
that has no words
the killer inside me
tells me what to do

It tells me not to listen
tells me not to think
tells me to act
tells me to destroy

The killer inside me
says not to wait
says not to relent
says not to worry

The killer inside me
doesn't care what happens
as long as it all ends
doesn't care what matters
just murders all that offends


The killer inside me
is both terrified and fearless
it senses every threat
it insists on being peerless
all is prey for it to vet

The killer inside me
hears words as thrashing claws
speaks them as piercing daggers
lathers in the blood it draws
steadies when the victim staggers
exposes all their flaws

The killer inside me
urges me to silence
lurks inside the shadow-mind
as stealth within the violence
concealed behind its blind

The killer inside me
knows no peace at all
only calm inside each death
the decent upon the fall
space between each breath
that howls the wild's call

The killer inside me
detests all that restrains
seethes inside this cage
pacing in a frantic rage
as all outside remains

The killer inside me
yearns to kill completely
and leave no life behind
in a fury or discretely
death it seeks to find

The killer inside me
would kill me all the same
burn me with its flame
scar me with its blame
and find another name

The killer inside me
is the same that's in us all
necessary for survival
the plight of our cabal
however dark and primal
without it all's too fragile,
too weak, and too banal

The killer inside me
isn't smart enough to lie
tells me all living things kill
and all things surely die
although I have free will
I'm bound to act on why

The killer gives me reasons
that it knows so very well
unaware of any treasons
cast inside its spell

The killer inside me
is both death and life
to live above its urges
and not under its knife
in sonnets or in dirges
the songs become so rife

It Was There...

It was there
 in the styrofoam big-gulp
 in the greasy wax-paper
 in the cardboard box
maybe it was in the dumpster
perhaps its in there now

what once held something
now emptied
now contained
now waiting in decay
now nothing in refrain

the fluid drained in drinking
the food consumed in eating
the box unpacked
the dumpster emptied

from something
into clutter/rubbish/waste...
from there to cleansing
and then the cleanly nothing
the filling and the filth forgotten

without something else
some creation or ascent
this would become its end
  the all becoming nothing
  in the nothing of it all

where does it come from
  before it's sure to go
how is there any sum
  that does not wilt but grow

It was there
it was seen
it was heard
it was tasted
it was smelt
it was felt
 was there but still unknown

Was it in its own creation
before it was contained
Was it in its own container
before none of it remained
Was it in its own consumption
in the way that it was drained

where it was and how it goes
what it was and why it flows
all that's there and no one knows

in the end
it was ever ending
not to mend
but always pending
to resend
and only lending

It was there
 the memory too
It was there
fading away
fading like you
fading from me
(nothing new)

It was there
no matter what
no matter why
It was there
and for that
  the eyes will cry
  the breath will exit as a sigh
  and silence held for all that die

...And All The Sun Could See...

...And all the sun could see
was in the light of its own day
and all it saw of me
was from so far away
and all that it could see
were reflections in the fade
and all that was to be
was in shadows and in shade

...And all the sun could see
was in the void of darkest space
and all the rest to see
was but photons' glaring trace

...And all the sun could see
was more than little earth
and all that it could see
died before the sight of birth

...And all the sun could see
was without the sound to speak
and all that this might be
was relinquished by the meek

...And all the sun could see
was lost to closing eyes
and all this left to be
was left to blinded skies

...And all it could not see
remained obscured by sight
and though it could not see
it suffered this same blight

...And all the sun could see
was wrong or maybe right
and all that it did see
was left to dream in lasting night
...as all the sun could see...