I met a man,
Both dry and cold,
Hiding in a skein of liquor,
Wet and Hot.
He felt no pain,
Upon his heart,
And gave no fold,
At least of his rotting core.
He said his part,
With a face of death,
Nothing moved around his pit,
Save for Cockroaches,
And Demons from the pit,
And still he gave no words foul,
Simply looked at me,
As we stood and bowed,
Eager to escape the bonds and bowels,
Of the very pit of hell.
We stand beside each other,
Death in his soul,
And Murder in mine,
The Killer and The Victim,
To exit upon consuming,
The vermin upon we dined.
The music to which we rolled to our feet,
And took up the act of fists,
Played along a Symphony of Pain,
And a Duet of Torture,
As the soldiers,
Convinced in hate,
Anger and Agony,
That they would hold,
And escape their demons of old.
As Midnight struck the minds,
Of these companions two,
These brothers in might and arms,
Noonday brought the sun,
In this hellish place,
A land of Tolerance,
Of Love and Peace,
Friendship means to hold one dear,
A fate they can no longer face.
They died long ago,
Keeping the spirit of Hate,
And the Will to die,
They are forced to be held,
In bodies not theirs.
In a world not their own,
As their spirits hold,
Tortured by itself,
Because they threw away,
Their meaning for love.
***
Did I say,
I would speak of good,
Of Niceness and Rainbows,
Of Weakness and their broods?
Did I say,
I would fill your heart,
Make you love,
Tend to kindness,
From the sky above?
No.
I am not one to dine,
Upon the feastings,
With friend and wine.
No.
I am not one,
A friend,
A companion,
I am nothing thus,
A hateful spawn,
A bloodthirsty cuss.
I am what people fear at night,
Tell their children to fear if they're bright.
I am spiteful,
A great big dog,
A grateful Demon,
A Friendly thug.
I haunt and connive,
I conceive deceit and bore blight,
I would give hate upon this land,
But even that is no longer needed.
So I hang out here,
With hangman's rope,
To kill and slaughter,
Those close to me,
Until one can do so to me,
I wish to die, (though I cannot),
I wish to be free.
ISA
Both dry and cold,
Hiding in a skein of liquor,
Wet and Hot.
He felt no pain,
Upon his heart,
And gave no fold,
At least of his rotting core.
He said his part,
With a face of death,
Nothing moved around his pit,
Save for Cockroaches,
And Demons from the pit,
And still he gave no words foul,
Simply looked at me,
As we stood and bowed,
Eager to escape the bonds and bowels,
Of the very pit of hell.
We stand beside each other,
Death in his soul,
And Murder in mine,
The Killer and The Victim,
To exit upon consuming,
The vermin upon we dined.
The music to which we rolled to our feet,
And took up the act of fists,
Played along a Symphony of Pain,
And a Duet of Torture,
As the soldiers,
Convinced in hate,
Anger and Agony,
That they would hold,
And escape their demons of old.
As Midnight struck the minds,
Of these companions two,
These brothers in might and arms,
Noonday brought the sun,
In this hellish place,
A land of Tolerance,
Of Love and Peace,
Friendship means to hold one dear,
A fate they can no longer face.
They died long ago,
Keeping the spirit of Hate,
And the Will to die,
They are forced to be held,
In bodies not theirs.
In a world not their own,
As their spirits hold,
Tortured by itself,
Because they threw away,
Their meaning for love.
***
Did I say,
I would speak of good,
Of Niceness and Rainbows,
Of Weakness and their broods?
Did I say,
I would fill your heart,
Make you love,
Tend to kindness,
From the sky above?
No.
I am not one to dine,
Upon the feastings,
With friend and wine.
No.
I am not one,
A friend,
A companion,
I am nothing thus,
A hateful spawn,
A bloodthirsty cuss.
I am what people fear at night,
Tell their children to fear if they're bright.
I am spiteful,
A great big dog,
A grateful Demon,
A Friendly thug.
I haunt and connive,
I conceive deceit and bore blight,
I would give hate upon this land,
But even that is no longer needed.
So I hang out here,
With hangman's rope,
To kill and slaughter,
Those close to me,
Until one can do so to me,
I wish to die, (though I cannot),
I wish to be free.
ISA
ISA,
ReplyDeleteThink again about who you truly are. Are you truly spiteful? Truly malicious? Are humans born one way or another, slaves to fate? Or do we have the power to choose, to control our destinies? To be kinder, more compassionate than mean, spiteful people have told us we can be? Being thus is the greatest triumph. Evil is no triumph.