Lovely Day for a Torture

My dear, do you know no mercy? I’ve climbed too high, to fall this low; I drift in the sky when you’re ‘round; Plummet to the fiery hell… My emotions fluctuate too quick… i served my heart on a golden plate; you ate it amongst the minions; the taste was unwanted…. the beat too obnoxious. the colour too bright, too warm; did you not notice, it was woven, within your traits, it held value for you.; your lips remain blood-soaked, hungering for more. Not needing i…. The heart shall be treasured…. the warm glow you neglect. Shall be another’s; yet i want you… Although you appear devilish at times, I look for the moments when you’re gravitating spirit, punctures my heart, and I fill whole; emptiness when you’ve drifted off. Anxiety before i connect; Happiness when i’ve connected. A cycle… Different identities – The heart can’t  keep up with the ever-changing environmental-costumes, how far will you go to capture and toy with what should be, cared for; the bad news is i can rip you to shreds if i felt differently; push me there?

Advertisements

The Devil that plays the Guitar of an Angel

Coasting the clear sea, I take-out my binoculars. as i’m looking thru – there’s a lovely song playing, with a guitar – Within the scope i notice a lovely woman playing this, the clock turns and eventually i get to the island, tie my boat, there’s a rope that’s been lit with a light – i think to myself strange, as i continue along the island, the music gets more aggressive; and lovely – The sky turns a dark colour, as begin to walk the island the music influences my body. I begin gravitating to the music, it’s vibrations so meaningful, pleasant, unique. My body shifts left-to-right, i begin to feel euphoric, the music is alike a drug. It separates my soul from my body – her character. My body peels from my bright soul – The music takes ahold more, i can feel the vibrations so deep within, my spirit quickly shoots towards the instrument, i feel the control take affect, my spirit shakes, I can feel my body die… I can feel the scratching of the strings on the piece. I begin seeing 360 degrees, just then my soul gets captured within the red guitar…

Chasing a Love

My feeling’s created a vortex – They shall bring her towards; Her’s deflect my circular storm.  The wind shoots towards immensely.

Knocking me down – She comes forward wearing an (unknown) mask, wielding a freshly sharpened knife – The days have passed, the blade remained, the mask knew many roles, the knife has taken many foes – The darkness is overpowering

The weaponry, becomes dull as she progresses her stabs locating my heart – the vortex lessens in size.

She smiles, the beauty of her smile, catches me off guard – my feeling’s ‘sharpen’ – They take ahold – strengthen…. ascend – The vortex grow’s dangerously large;

The powerful air becomes unstable, It fluctuates – tilts rapidly, back-and-forth – bringing forth the other, consuming her; the blade – bounced off my heavily guarded heart, the blade bent…. I wake up, and realize i’ve been walking once more in my sleep – Feeling’s still needing release, to pick her up, and wrap my arms around.

BEER & LOVE

Drowning in a pool of yellow liquid, the sides are rising – Creating a barrier. The bubbles come from the mouth, puking out additional substance, furthering the im-prisonment. The barriers become aggressive, the hand takes me and locks me down- the key stolen, by the one that’s suppose to be there for me….

The waves are creating a superior time, riding these beautiful inconsistencies; As my emotions plummet, forever searching for “additional”. All-the-while, i think of the queen, the one that roams the nest with carefreeness, strength, beauty – Feeling as-if, a tiny bee. needing her, I drink another beer. The moments go-by, quicker, my heart releases a noise – She doesn’t appreciate. I climbed massive barriers, yet she does not care, it doesn’t occur to her that i’m trying the best i can – A tiny bee in pursuit of love.

Death by Overdose

The rock forms around the water – individuality is dead, society became duplicated – the printer, prints; never slowing to decide on its ethical stand – conformists. Living within a world we look to television for our fashion – the personality doesn’t blossom as it previously had, the pedals drift in the wind – negativity remains. strong hate stays, They’re marching in a  single-fashion, their one size boots hitting the ground with vigorousness – the blue jacket stands out in the darkness. The soul, searching for different, never quite finding the spark; they see dead frowns mass produced; eyes appear sad, overworked, overused, their face is old, and hungering for another fix. Time continues and shall bring change, the junkies die, the dealer’s find a bullet – their organs, fail and their bodies shake – A pipe falls to the ground, hitting the ground with a sweet release, the shadow comes out, and sinks beneath -Danced with the devil, He overcame their mind with ease, and destroyed the GAME. One by one, they met their fate.

The Deer That Had a Wild Passion

I stand among the other beasts, i call to the others, let’s move. let’s progress upwards onto this hill, we need to find a deer, a possum, anything to feed our stomachs, to provide us with strength and power… The other animals were less excited, lazier than the deer… we eventually entered the same page… We began to chase down a deer, and the deer progressed out of the premise, our quick steps were no match, we accelerated faster… But the deer was PASSIONATE about his surroundings, he understood the area much more… The next day we saw the deer. And we set our trap, we circled the deer and began to munch on his body, ripping flesh, destroying his caucus. And we learned from then on that sometimes talent beats passion.

The Log that the Soil Combined With the Flower – Relationship, lost

A hallow log that has been forgotten, the grass grows around and it slowly disappears beneath, It slowly forgets what it’s like to held, admired for it’s internal beauty of rings, it’s age is meaningless, because it’s rottening away becoming a memory in ones mind, the picture within slowly crumpling, getting filthy and it’ll become a historic piece that was never remembered – because i feel meaningless. Around the log, grows flowers… alike the flower, the woman i once knew, grew as one, strong and vibrant, magical. Living like a dream within ones mind, her picture stays strong, and well thought about…  the soil combined their relationship, but it was not enough, and one day the flower detached from it’s circular platform, and took flight in the wind.

Cycling Towards a Goal

battling the shadows within my mind, a constant fight. they’re using more sophisticated weaponry, advanced targeting systems, spiralling around my mind, detaching reality from within, betraying my beliefs, my agenda…. it feels as-if everything i’ve done in the name of a better life is for nothing, the hard times will be forever… I look to my friends and family for support, but i’m alone. it’s time to call it quits… but something in me keeps wanting what i cannot have. wanting the best. So that side of me will not give up, it moves forward and drags the other side, along… Forever in a constant cycle, of what feels good, mixed with what would be make the best results… so i strengthen up and build myself a future that i’ll be proud of. Forever running a marathon that i may complete…. cycling to my goals in a constant way, playing catchup with what’s not meant for me.