Disquiet

He can feel the pulse of his life

It’s 90 degrees on the negative plane,

His mind is losing its Yin

And his heart has already lost the Yang;

His consciousness is disturbed

And it’s howling and dancing in circles like a dragon insane,

His faith is crumbled like the ashes of a burnt cedar

And his belief has lost all its spark, now it’s merely cinder,

His knees feel light like the dry leaves in winter

His tongue feels heavy as if they have grown scabs,

And he is scared that every word he utters will surely hurt

And he thinks more about death than life

As he walks, and talks, and lives at the mercy of others.

 

 

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A song

String up a guitar, that will help me feel nothing

Conjure up a beat of the drums that will let me forget

Play a bass that will alleviate me and my frame

Sing a song that will take me to heaven

A song that will rid me of all the pain.

 

 

 

 

 

Consciousness

I think you should fly away now
You have said, talked, spoken all that you could
You have written all you could,
Now it’s time to rid yourself of the unnecessary burden,
For their is no use now
He will not listen, she will not come
And they will never understand
There is no use for you here now
So it’s better that you go,
Fly away into that darkness
A place from where you’ll never have to speak or write
From a place of rest from where you shall never return.

Eyes

My eyes hurt, and they hurt me
They say that they don’t want me to see
They don’t want me to read, or write

They say, shut me up, there is too much deceit, too much lie
My eyes, my eyes, they burn on the inside

They say there is too much pain in the world
My eyes hurt me
They say that they don’t want me to see

My eyes, my eyes, they burn on the inside
They say there is too much pain in the world

And they cannot see any more cries,
My eyes, they ask me to shut them up
They cannot face anymore disguise

My eyes, my eyes, my eyes

They hurt and cry
They urge me to shut them up

They tell me that the end is nigh.

Oh life, so dear to me

Oh life, so dear to me
You brought me life,
A name, a family,
friends and enemies,
Life you got me
a girl, drinks, and drugs
The joy and the pain,
Kept me sober,
Drove me insane,

Oh life, so dear to me
You got me this life
And the sins with it,
and the water to wash them away,
You took me high,
You drowned me low,
My life, you got me a god
And acquainted me with the devil,
You told me the secrets and their reveal,
You showed me honesty
Let me be deceived,

Oh life, so dear to me,
You woke me up
And you showed me the dreams,
You heard my whispers
Muted all my screams,
And all else that you got me
I accepted, never asked, and carried on,
And all that you gave me
You did so on your own,

Now I ask you for something,
Oh life, so dear to me,
I took all that I could and you brought me
Now, could you please get me a gun,
Consider it a final request.

10-to-7

Keep your petty sarcasm to yourself
You 10-to-7 money-cum-ass lickers,
All your acts are as hollow as you are,

Which side of paradise are you going to buy with your money?
A castle on a mountain or a penthouse by the seaside,
Your shadows reek of dishonesty,
Your games mirror your shallowness,
As you stoop low to feed your pointless existence,

My mind wonders as it witnesses your joy in the false triumph,
That you try to conceive more than children,
Looking up and down at each other when you should look in the eye,
And your deception is so obvious
That it almost makes me smile inside
and instills sheer disgust,

And such lowly your ideas of prying are
That I feel like puking on the computer,
You and your groups and the groupies within them,
(Who the FUCK are you to test me?)
All your dreams and desires feed on others,
And you deserve the company of each other and none else,

So that you can preach, pry, deceive and lie,
Live your life in and for the 10 to 7,
And then you die.

( I hope you go to heaven)

Why I Write

Every one has someone to go to
A face to laugh with, a shoulder to cry
I couldn’t get someone for myself
So I relish the company of mine.
Often I come back to my room,
And I break down into a cry
( No idea why)
But I do, I sit bent, and I sob;

Sometimes I buy the company of cheap whiskey or wine
But even the magic of these euphoric elixirs
Fails to derive a moment divine,

So then I sit and look at the nature outside
That dwells in harmony
And whilst I admire their peaceful beauty
The sob muffles and my eyes slowly dry,
Then I turn towards the robots
That engage me in myriad videos and songs,
And as rock and metal minimize the seclusion
My mind begets confusion;

the moon appears and disappears from behind the momentary veil of fleeting clouds,
As enters internal unease,
The existence of which, threatens me with mental disease,
And sometimes it prompts me to die,
But my misfortunate existence infuses the realisation
That lonely though, I am alive
And as the night unwinds
I pick up a pen and a paper,
And begin to write.
( Now even you know why)