Creator. Creation. The bastard of sentiment and pride. A stye on the natural dye, spoiling all but the eye. Appearances deceive the meek and kind. The rotting essence of this one’s heart just won’t die. Another day of silent abuse, welcoming another smile. If ignorance had a role model like this comedy would never die. The arrogance of prejudice stains thoroughly. The absent hours come alive until the inevitable return of the inherited honor. The squandered respect, the virtuous dishonor. The forsaker.
'What ifs' and 'why nots' why do you exist? You’ve grown ever so cumbersome Please cease and desist. Your wants, no more virtuous than your promises, superfluous Enslaved by your whims We’d never be remiss. Dancing in the shadows, stepping on toes A million different reasons to watch ambitions run. Depriving, contriving, playing with hope Becoming the moon of a forlorn sun. Fueling contrition, admonished shame Created an ego unlike none Alive beneath despondent veins Ruining what’s left, and then some.
Your abhorrent fallacies, your coherent lies Bending truths that seem hopelessly divine Spurring tongues to whats and whys. Still, silence speaks louder than the wine. Doubt destroys everything it clings to And therefore, so will you. Simplify our misery into love and hate, we insist Scribbled upon a clean slate, Why do you persist? Running short of derision for your provision Regrets live as apparitions Behind the veil of your cajoling voice. Convince me that joy is merely mistaken sorrow, That everything I’ve said up till now is hollow, And maybe your words just won’t be errant noise.
Let’s cut away the bullshit for once. Honesty may not have it’s reward but it sure as hell feels good to the ears it falls on. More often than not, we’re selfish for others. And more so for ourselves. It’s not as though we find the day when all cheery bright things would miraculously weave their way into our dull lives something to look forward to. But paper cuts and medical buffs might take you there sooner. We’re professional liars for our own companies. We get paid with insolence and envy, which we spend on the ones we truly love. Look, laugh and pity the fool who gripes and moans. But let’s not forgive him for being wretched and miserable, and not completely insensitive. Don’t ever realize how much mass murder has helped you balance your daily routine or how easy your life has become since the fall of justice. Cherish these moments of obstinacy and revel in the fall of man to mere beast, you might never know such disgrace, cloaked in pride, again. The definitions given to our own villainous deeds are such elaborate deceptions that sometimes I wonder if the one they call God was just a man who thought to prank this world with a promise of salvation so that other men could kill each other over a system of faith that has no foundation. I would bake a cake for that guy. So, these long sentences putting you to sleep yet, or am I too pig headed to get through to your blooming pride? Maybe you find this funny, maybe you’re a terrible friend. Maybe I don’t care about you and your perfect life. There’s a chance none of that is true and you think we’re all good of heart inside. Ahh, that mystical hidden power within everyone! Makes me wish I was a non-gay looking He-Man. Makes me wish for a lot of things that you would find offensive (so, I’d hope) and enthralling (so I’d doubt it). You collect high horses for prancing ponies and jewellery boxes full of ring fingers, alongside cushions and compliments so tight that not even gangsta-wrapped truth could split open. Minds full of right wing liberalism and perks full of questions that exonerate reason, lead you to believe that ending friendship is a walk in the park. Years of trust and respect lost in an instant, but that doesn’t affect you. It won’t now, nor ever. This will all be forgotten like a really bad book that reminded you of your child abuse days. Because, accepting hardship is a waste of time. Acknowledging pain and moving past it is a bad decision. Let’s keep one day apart from our indifferently vehement, opportunistically coherent and beautifully disconcerting lives to make all the bad decisions we love to. At least on that day, no madman would feel alone.
Lyrics: "Heed my warning! You will learn the error of your ways or perish. The time of reckoning draws near. You cannot change the world from where you stand. It is only a matter of time now. The day of judgement is at hand. No glyphs, no laws, no thorns will alter fate this time. Repent! Repent in fear before it is too late. The second coming! The second coming is nigh…" ____________________ His death was all in vain, the sacrifice left nothing to gain. A lesson that was never learnt, only sacrilege and scorn remain. The embers of a forgotten past, never linger, never meant to last. empty dreams of a sacred heart, this fucking sea, will never part.
Do as he commands, I command you, etched in stone, your Utopian world. A conspiracy that you unfurled, old revelations, born anew. ____________________
Find your faith in the heretic within you, the blood of weeping idols can never sate you. ____________________
A book of lies, disguised as the word of God, written by man preying on the minds too weak to comprehend, The Reign of Insanity! ____________________ Plagued by the sanity of man’s desire for self destruction, We prayed for madness in the light, as we turned to face the vile. In the darkness reunite, only hatred will survive, Preach your sins to stay alive. ————————————————————————————-
This is a rant, a whine, a lackadaisical, lackluster, lamentable account of the mind’s log. Past the brick wall of restraint, beyond the fields of tolerance, on the banks of instinct and affection, it erases itself every 2 weeks. Rewrites memories and feelings as fickle as capricious rain. Makes people sad, makes people happy. Leaves them unsatisfied, unwanted. Makes them whole. Here, where troubles are also accounted for, heartbreaks, trials, emotional noise, psychological inconsistencies, all live under one roof. Imagine a chain reaction inside your head that won’t stop exploding. Beautiful yet devastating. But depression is the worst. Like a virus it infects all moods and modes. Coax and calm are pins and needles. Persuasion is desertion and truths are lies. Liberality becomes morbid and grim, while conservation craves death. Breaking continuity for a moment of weakness, purging will and doubting strength. Cling to the vines, their hands keep you afloat. Above the sea of screams and cries the mind inflicts upon itself. The damnation, the lunacy of being alone in your head when everything inside you is falling apart is worse than any prison. Friends become enemies and goals become shackles. Up is a little to the left of center’s right and down is where you are. Welcome to capsized reality, where pain is exalted and peace is taboo. Where the hands don’t reach to save but drown. Then you know it is time to restart, until the system fails again. Till the next time the levee breaks.
"And then some, Food for thought that wouldn’t think, Working the wrought unto the brink…. Where slaves define a generational plight A martyr is born out of infamy and blithe.”
Rotting, still, in a cancerous shell that knows no health, nor godliness Ever convincing the pompous mind of the frailty of determination. A ghost of the day lurking in the shade, With no deeds worth doing and nothing to bate the erosion of taste. The asylum of words spurred to life, tongues turned black with hate, Cheers of death and laughter that bled followed suit. Lethargy arose with a grimace and swiftly overcame perseverance. Metaphors broke at the sight of trepidation, A byproduct that shouldn’t have had side effects. Incompetence was not gained, but found in the core. At the center of immaturity, locked in the doldrums of nothing important A million excuses were made not to write this.
i want to give up writing. inspiration doesn’t flow from me anymore. there is too much pain to vent and not enough words. with my limited vocabulary and terrible concentration how will i ever express my truest feelings? even voicing my own thoughts seems hard these days. when i sit to read all my past work, i feel alien to myself. i can’t recognize the person who wrote this. i realize this because i don’t know who i am. i have questions but no answers. i have means but no will. i have goals but no hope. all i desire, leaves me. all i cherish, dies and all i keep, decays. i did this to myself. my crooked arm of evil twisted the levers and swung the fulcrum. savoring the regret. i have a million. one for every scar, stab, spit and more. they will pile on until i’m crushed under the weight of my anguish. everything this world has to offer is wonderful. i don’t care about any of it now. all wonders are paltry. all laughter is forced. only pain feels like home. married to despair with emptiness on its way. as of now, the chaos of thoughts will only entertain the conscious mind. soon thoughts will freeze. words will halt. i will go mute. incapable of even speaking with people. walls will be built. prisons of self hate and apathy. this will become my habitat. nobody will bother to remember my name. incognito, i will chase the flame in my dark maze of tears and drool.
Never sit to re-download your long lost dubstep collection in one night, you will be cumming music all over your keyboard since you will immaculately find your old groove and not know when to stop successfully defeating the need for food, rest, hygiene, sleep and surprisingly music itself thereby ironically killing the reason for which you mindlessly deprived yourself in the first place.
A quarter to one at 3 in the night could ideally be fun, not without warning. Sitting alone in a room full of one waiting for clues that glue the hour, Fluidly spacy in the psychedelic lull of drifting silence just half past none. One and three quarters align magically, weeks have just gone by. Poetry is depressing to some. Cheer up now, the waning comes.