Never To Be Complete...

Another verse versus itself
These nothing-things and nothing else
Emptiness overflowing a hollowed self
into vapid oceans of everything else
as voiceless words cry-out inside
against this vacuous world outside
and the cowardice in which it hides
Enough is never enough for these asides

Never to be complete
The curse defines the lifestyle
with a will to death all the while
Never to be complete
Sentenced to life without a trial
then life's on trial all the while
Never to be complete
(Repeat, repeat, repeat)

Then some Earth's unearthed again
as buried sorrows exhume some truth
that dead dreams may rise to die again
like a zombie-phoenix, but more uncouth
for the cremating flames so rarely peak
& the brains devoured aren't those they seek
This cycle seems more sick than cyclical
as cynicism holds the cynic as what it holds cynical

Never to be complete
This nothingness echoed on abysmal repeat
Empty tones grow so dense and accrete
One might heap them all in one vacant pile
lest follow them along their endless, sightless mile
never to be complete
(Repeat, repeat, repeat)

The Monsters Of My Nightmares Have Dreams They Call Their Own...

The monsters of my nightmares
have dreams they call their own
With eyes relieved of blinded stares
some of these things are shown

The vampire that would drain me
has a relentless bloody thirst
but with coffin closed, his dreams can see
an oasis to end his curse
with an eternal shade, and pure blood river
no glare or withdrawal can make him shiver
but as I sleep and vamp awakes
bringing back these bloody shakes

'Cause the monsters of my nightmares
have dreams they call their own
With eyes closed to blind the glares
some of these things are shown

The ghost that howls & haunts me
feels so empty and ignored
On cloudy nights he dreams to see
his flesh and bone restored
while zombies gather all around
his voice raising life from ground
but as I sleep the ghost cannot
and such dreams are left to rot

'Cause the monsters of my nightmares
have dreams they call their own
With eyes beyond diurnal flares
some of these things are shown

The werewolf with his angry growls
wears thin by prompting moons
but daydreams help relax his scowls
for there no darkness looms
to cull from him a fevered rage
against an encroaching gentry's cage
but as I sleep the wolf brings fear
the kind both strong and near

'Cause the monsters of my nightmares
have dreams they call their own
while REM eyes twitch prayers
one seldom scares
to wake and be alone