Sunday, September 28, 2008

Questions and Answers

Bitter are the questions for they burn
The answers are the thing because if you
Take the spinal column out you will still have bone
Take the heart from its cage, you still spill blood
Lift your eyes to the horizon and you will see the sun
But when the night falls, the sun still spins about
Understanding the problem isn’t the same as an answer
Knowing what you want isn’t the same as having it
Stopping the smoking doesn’t kill the cancer
Too many fail to answer understand or know
Too many desire more than they fear
And where do we go when we never fear
But to a place where our hearts are burst
Our tears are bitter, and our backs are broken
And our life ends again and again.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Friday, September 26, 2008

Le Somme

((Click Image for clearer image and words))

The battle is best remembered for its first day, 1 July 1916, on which the British suffered 57,470 casualties, including 19,240 dead—the bloodiest day in the history of the British Army.

Friday, September 19, 2008

In the Church of the Blood Stained Glass

You were simply children with wonderful tools
Fools with technology you never understood but used
You said God was dead so go away
And then God left you to your own intelligent designs
And you screamed that you were adult and ready
But only objectionable crumbs were left behind
Nothing but dyslexic purple prose from the intellectual science
That struggle to define morals in a vacuum
Nothing is left so we have only to hide in our time
We are left with mania in the classrooms
With children who worship things unkind
Intertwined legacies, a fate left to chance
A romance so doomed the dance of amorality and mind
No drugs can create it, no drugs can remove it
No drugs can define these things that make us so unhappy
No drug can disguise the lies we live with
No drug can allow you to love after you’ve despised all you have
You question why God left you alone
When it was you who asked for it to happen?
So you wonder why you trust,
When you know you’ll be betrayed again
Wonder why you exhaust your effort
When the devastation in your heart grows
When suicide will end the noise, any day
Decide now for your children hinge upon your choice
And the world you leave behind will be lost
From the world you destroyed by the chances tossed
No one cares so why don’t you just throw your life away
Death is just death so why don’t you throw life away
Because it isn’t that easy, and the pain is evidence you are alive
Biding time until you die, time time time, ticks, time
Don’t throw away what you don’t understand
Make a stand and survive for now it is all you have
But one will come who will change your mind.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Highland conflict

The distant echoes of the pipes in the mists, the air impenetrably white,
The footsteps and heavy breathing from the march hang in the clouds
Too many dead in these highland wars, too many wounded souls
Clans line up and charge, leaving broken bodies and no sounds
But the shattering of shields, the crashing of bones, and mournful cries
The ever growing piles of the dead, stinking, while storm clouds approach
Surrounded by craven scavengers, above the field the clouds thunder
While looters of the bloody bodies desecrate the place,
Covered now with maggots and flies, bringing only misery
To the purpled host of the epic dying numbers.

Made of Flesh and Death

Sometimes I just want to live and face the crashing waves and tides
Sometimes I just wish to die, dive in, be sucked into the currents of time
Whatever I do is wrong, it makes no difference, it makes no sense
Whatever I say is criticized, called incompetent, under the microscope lens
My dreams are made irrelevant from my flaws
My fears overwhelm me no matter the cause
Sometimes I wish I could forget, hope is dismembered
Sometimes it hurts to remember, looking at nothing in the mirror- just regret
This life is worth living, I just cannot pay the cost
This life is worth having, but I cannot win for having lost.
I am a good son, all I do is pray, I am a good boy, I pray every day
I am a failure, all I do is prey, I am an idiot, will someday fall from grace.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Torrents of Hate

In the foundries of hell, the torrents of fire always pour,
Raking the coals of rage and jealousy, scorn and hate,
The chastisement leaves us weak, we cling to falsehood,
The burning goes on, endlessly churning, the fires grow fierce
The demons relish their duties, to inflict more pain upon the meek
We pray to be freed of the pit, grow insane, our will is pierced
But refuse to end our petty longings nor accept that our outlook is bleak