Ragged blue cuts through midni MaskRagged blue cuts through midnight black,three lines styled after the beast within.Cold amber, jaded and hard,bright eyes that burnyour very soul.A shapelessmouth; wordless and silent.Neither salvation nor mercy,only the damning silencefor the condemned.The left eye; underscoredwith a single triangulated tear,defiantly white.“An eye for an eye, but I don’t need to see,who needs eyes motherfucker I can feelyou bleed!”Bleed.Silent damnation in that amber glass,No mercy will fall from these lips.Bleed.No expression for this mask,Say something!Bleed.
PromiseI thought I was a prodigal man.It doesn't matter.The sun holds true.Perhaps, I am a priest of thieves,redeemed in some cautery.The air, still bountiful and sweet.However life inlays my debtors,and I have laid them, after,I will leave an openingfor lightfor everyonefor you.
Mankind / HumanidadMankindI was woven from the dust of the earth,Born from the womb of Your servant,Formed by Your hands, quickened by Your breath;Come to the precious Garden,Walking among Your very good works.I heard the voice of the serpent,I took from the tree of knowledge,I disobeyed Your instruction of obedience.I wanted to be alone and above, I, I;I rebelled openly against You.I have walked in shame,Under a fair judgement, surrounded by decay.All of my steps reap death,I've made myself an agent of destruction and ruin;And behold, You still do provide.Despite my deeds, behold, You are faithful,And have called me unto a covenant;You called me to faithfulness, to believe and trust.You have shown Your worth, and You gave me chanceTo have communion with You once again.But, behold, You see I am not ca
Fairytale of the ChoirThere is a special place,Outside of the broadest wasteland,Sought through the cylinderof an old revolver.Have you heard the choirs of the dunes,And how their praise echoes off of shifting slopes,molded by merciless winds?Have you felt the thunder of those hauntings?How chilling the thought that Ihave only heard these things,in where I am disoriented by my thirstsand my revolver is closed-minded.This place is strange.I've known it only in the back of my mind,Through a peculiar hell of idea,Whispered like a bedtime story.
Static on the TelevisionThere is a calmnessin ceiling fans, every whisperedsound emitted, two in the morning,never needs to be acknowledged,never seeks attention the waya television might, or an hourglass.Only a child knowsthe importance of listening ––the way his mother never will.To lay awake and not watchBut feel the changeas a dandelion does in wind.
Dangerously BeautifulThey take off,like butterflies,in the sky.Little creatures,with innocent notions,like the shades of the ocean,or the smell of love potions.Breathtakingly beautiful.
lin(e)ar commsthe line stretched taunt between the cansheld in our respective handshello can you hear me well canyou I asked you between landswith eyes for ears you know eye canat least well enough for weaving strandsand so we continue to fanthe flames of cosmos fire bandsmind's third eye epiphany brandswith thoughts ego can't withstand
The Alien who Loved God "The Alien who Loved God" I come from beyond the stars above,Seeking the truth that is beneath it all.I've seen more than you can understandBefore receiving mankind's spatial call;Here am I, life unknown to your land. Throughout my existence, I have walkedThe universe and wondered what it wasThat it came from, before time began;A trail of light in everything I see;Beauty I can't make, neither can man. Your science, engineering, I have known;Society it is that I explore,History and this love you professShowing why I could not be alone;Why a Source is out there nonetheless. Looking around, miracles I seeThat claim to come from the one you call God.You speak of mercy that He had for you;You speak of One whose might gave shape to all,Whom, you say, created even me. In your history, I cannot thin
MistletoeFirst we met beneath the mistletoe,I with Queen Maeve eyesyou lost within your winter storms.It was the ancient rite,you had the taste of cinnamon,spiced mulled wine,whilst I inhaled the scentof pine.The Yule log burns,revelers held within its protective glow,warmth spreads through the skin,specters of futures goneand futures yet to comeflit through the flames.
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