Saturday, November 17, 2012

Servitude

Commentating all the actions of the robbers in their mansions -
Look how prettily they sit, while you're working in the pits -
You keep on digging to find solace, but no basis is made flawless.
The hand that feeds will never bleed if you've been biting for centuries.

Subjected to the outside, submissive to the mirror,
The arbitrary consequence of solitary sustenance.
A subject to the inside, permissive to the danger,
The mandatory helplessness of voluntary decadence.

Reverting back to what you know
Doesn't comfort the ever growing pain of servicing
And bargaining.
If what you reap is what you sow,
Then by God you must dig up a million holes,
And sell your soul
Only for a chance
To hold something that is your own.

Subjected to the outside, submissive to the mirror,
The arbitrary consequence of solitary sustenance.
A subject to the inside, permissive to the danger,
The mandatory helplessness of voluntary decadence.
You are begging to be saved,
But you can't have the life you crave.

Excavate your hands,
And notice that the hole you can't get out of
Was dug by them.
The dirt under your fingernails;
Your tired limbs have all but failed.
But you're too far down
To climb back out.
There's just one way to go from now.
Down, down, down.
And maybe you will reach the other end,
Or maybe you will only descend.

Subjected to the outside, submissive to the mirror,
The arbitrary consequence of solitary sustenance.
A subject to the inside, permissive to the danger,
The mandatory helplessness of voluntary decadence.
You don't want the life you saved,
So keep digging your grave.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

S.W.

For countless nights I ran for countless miles in fear that someone - or something - was in pursuit of me.
Suspended in time, suspended in my own denial I misconstrued the chase.
I made up the place, the scenery.
"Forgive me, I'm weak. Forget what you feared in me," cried the voice calling out from my feet.
"Forget what you seek, I am the shadow beneath."
All along it was my shadow, but unlike yours it did not follow,
But instead took me to your bed where the crows were picking at your reddened rosary.

A shadow impeding, the crows keep feeding.

While history repeats, I'll scatter the ashes.
I'm faking sleep while time elapses.
Give us this day our morning masses.
The mourning can wait as the body relapses.


"And I don't want to be another stranger" a stranger in your vacant eyes
"Cuz if it's meant to be, then the love we savor," will be replaced with our lies 
"And you can look at me, and say that I saved her,
But I'm no angel, I'm just another staple. I'm just another staple."


To reach the end is a false hope.
I'm playing pretend in order to cope
With the inevitable cycle of becoming the horror
I once considered an idol.

While you're staring back into hollowed eyes,
I will detract from his disguise.
The surface lacks a certain luster,
A certain mystery no god can muster.
I've stripped the outsides, I know where the truth hides.


For countless nights I chased your shadow
In hopes that mine would shortly follow,
But all I found was a hollow man
With a hollowed chest laid to rest,
Laid to rest.
Lay to rest his head.
His head is heavy with regret,
And my hands are a close second.

I don't sleep much these days.


To reach the end is a false hope.
I'm playing pretend in order to cope
With the inevitable cycle of becoming the horror
I once so gladly feared.

Your father is sleeping, enjoy the reaping.