You Should Have Kissed Her When You Had the Chance

Every time I test the line between redemption and fate/ I find myself perched upon the shelf of deceit/ Tempting decapitated thoughts of resurrection/ to the current world currently on repeat/ I bet you never tasted destruction/ I bet you anticipated the longing/ There is no further argument/ There is no plea beyond forgiveness/ to escalate you to a clearer state/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I retain this plague/ I cherish it/
Every time I test the line between the fallen and the brave/ the ones standing are baring down on their own graves/ Resurrection is staring Death in the face/ Who will accomplish the art/ Who will shelter the decaying/ while the Giver's left slaying the awakened/ the forsaken/ I forsake thee/ I blame thee for loving the chase/ Run/ Run posthaste/
Here lies the untold tales/ of Franklin Alexander/ the commercing commander/ Here lies the untold tale/ of Franklin Alexander/ once a father/ once a maker/ now a prisoner to his own cell/ that he built/
I know the end route to these cells/ but I swore never to tell/ the maker how to escape/ You'll have to rape me from my hand/ Disregard your former plan/ to escape/ I know the end route to this Hell/ this Hell you made/ but I swore never to tell/ the maker how to escape/ You'll have to rape me from my hand/ Excavate me from your plans to betray/ one's own self/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I'm so vain, so vague/ I retain this plague/ I cherish it


- afm

Devilbiss

Slain is the firstborn,

Depraved by his greed.
You can beg for mercy,
But the crowds won't intervene.
Burning man, my brother,
I stand amongst the flames.
You can sell my freedom,
But you'll never take my name.
A crown for a king.


I tried to save you from yourself,
But unwilling minds tend to collide with tragedy.
The hunter is the hunted.
The hunter has become the damned.
I tried to save you from yourself,
To push aside your selfish pride and vanity. 

Slain is the traitor,

Basking in her deceit.

Call this a travesty.

My crew won't intervene.

Burning man, my brother, 

The wicked meet your keep.

Though you burn my body,

I'll rise not one, but three.

A crown for a queen.

Not stopping at the edge,
I'll cross the sea to find new land.
The fleet has fled, but I'll be home someday.
Dare test my will to take command.
I'll storm the keep and claim my throne someday.

I am free form tyranny,
Only to be grounded by my own inabilities,
But one day I'll fly above them all.
The seas will part, their kingdoms will fall.

I tried to save you from yourself,

But a ruthless bride tends to deny her enemies.

Not stopping at the edge,

I'll cross the sea to find new land.

The fleet has fled, but I'll be home someday.

Dare test my will to take command.

I'll storm the keep and claim my throne someday. 


- afm

The Alex Show - Episode 37

The Second View 

Needless to say,
Insert a clever line here.
Another one here,
And we'll finish it up with a play on words,
Ooooo and make it rhyme!

FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN


Regardless of how I feel at the end of each day, I think of myself from an outside perspective. A secondhand view can be enlightening, yet severely disappointing at times. I do not do this frequently - or so I try - but when I do, I come to the misled realization that nothing is exactly as I see it. Whether I feel accomplished or unfavorable, the substantiality of my life is somewhat mundane to others. I am not saying everyone on the outside believes my existence to be meaningless, I am only recognizing the fact that life itself is a commonplace thing, and that my life is no different.


I must take a moment aside to address that this evaluation is by no means a disheartened cry for help. It is more of a personal epiphany that my life is not as big as I make it out to be. The phrase "worry yourself to death" perfectly applies here. Sure, the act of worrying will not physically kill us, but it would be a waste of life to spend the rest of our days in a constant state of worriment. On the other hand, that is not permission to be careless. Though it is is hard to balance cautiousness and carelessness, it must be attempted. Not every spill will result with a fatal head injury. Sometimes we just slip and clean up the mess. Sometimes.


This post started as new ideas for song lyrics. Then it turned into a greater idea. Now it has become more of a contradictory rant, so I will get to the point. Life is a gift. Unlike other gifts we are given, there is no receipt. Unlike other gifts we are given, it cannot be exchanged for a better one. Unlike other gifts we are given, if we do not take the greatest care of it, it will not last. Like all gifts we are given, it can be broken, it can be lost, and it can be forgotten. Do not worry as much about the gifts of others. Life is not a second view. 


- afm

Haunting Elegance

Your words are inviting,
Warm and eloquent.
Deciphering each phrase-
Coined by malaise-
Can strip that warmth, desolate.


You're not a phantom,
But still you haunt me.
Turn your shoulder.
Feign to want me.
There's no room here
For fickle friends.


Your words are hanging,
Loose and decadent.
Discussing every title-
Regardless of how vital-
Can fuel my ever swaying temperament.


You're not a phantom,
But still you haunt me.
Hatred smoldered
Against my body.
There might be room here
For fervid friends.


Lift the pen,
And draw the lines.
Scribble out
Your final title.
Your final
Title.


There's no room here
To make amends.
I'll make your end.


- afm

Hollow Bodied Organisms

I dismembered all members of my family.
I remembered the act of forgetting.
I dismembered the concept of memory.
No home is safe or sound.
No home is safe or sound.

I divided brittle pigments from their bones.
I guided my hand so steadily.
I divided the monarchs from their thrones.
No home is safe or sound.
No conscience can be found.

Callous!
I could care less if I was careless.
The thought will be abandoned,
The prosecution stranded.
Malice!
You could care less if I confess.
Raise your fist and strike your gavel.
Chase my body with a scalpel.
Success! Success!
Regress! Regress!

I dismembered all members of my family.
I sit high upon my horse, looking down without remorse.
I dismembered the concept of forgiving.
No home is safe or sound.
No conscience can be found.

- afm