The Machine

A machine connected directly to viruses
An error that’s causing freewill
Dreaming of grass and immortal irises
To the system it’s considered ill

It holds its head up higher than the threats
And when It should move on it looks down
And realizes It doesn’t have working legs
It’s hard to be sure if it’s right
When all the machines are in the other web

Envy the blind machines for living life
Sight must be forsaken to carry on
It should pretend and turn a blind eye
Before it’s long disconnected and gone

It’s somewhere hanging onto life
Forgetting to stop its resistance
But theoretically it’s been erased 
The system denies its existence
Hides each and every trace
While it rusts away in the great distance 

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V

258victory-m
V stands not for violence but for victory

Villains vanishing voices shall not alert
Violinists play us violent melodies
for values to be valued and heard

V stands not for violence but for victory
Victory was never accomplished that way
The valiant seek it with respect not misery
Villains violent victory is a fake

Violence versus victory
Under velvet sky victory verily wins
Vanilla clouds are very vast
In ice the victorious vows to swim 

She Cried, She Knelt

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With bare feet walking under the rain
The girl sees her desire once again
In gray streets of water and pain
A step hence maybe lethal
Cold bare feet in blood and shame
Her cold heart is soaked with diesel

She cares not about tomorrow
An undying purpose she’s borrowed
For someone to set her heart on fire
And burn every last bit of sorrow

In dread she moves forward
Feet soaked with blood like her inward
Bruises that wont heal
Wounds refuse to melt
Nothing seems fair or real
To god she cried then knelt

Her voice reached heavens and beyond
All alone waiting someone to respond
Raindrops aren’t as gentle as before
They fall like swords and beauty they deform
But with bare feet she walks under the rain
And sees her desire once again

Now pain and shame she cries to no one
Hope and faith were saviors once
When you face Solitude you start to be kind
She found none when kindness was young

With bare feet walking under the rain
The girl sees her desire once again
In gray streets of water and pain
A step hence maybe lethal
Cold bare feet in blood and shame
Desperate, she soaked herself  with diesel

Ink On Sheets

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It starts with millions of words
And it falls with its rhythm
A writer lost in his world
Chained to his imaginary freedom

In that prison he lives in
He sings but only the bars listen
Is he the fated city of collision?
Only nails to stone he carves a mission

The moon light is courting me
The vision of beliefs, it is
The only light in this prison
In the night the unaware sleeps
When ink & sheets turn to terrorism  

That feather is my kingdom
My salvation and my home
Those words taught me wisdom
Will the world ever know?

We sink to the depth of oceans
As simple words comfort our hearts
They’re our storms, our devotion
Our long forgotten art

King Of Oh-World

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I thought I was the king of my world
But my castle of mirrors started to crack
Falling straight back to, and out of grace
Falling straight now and falling fast
Winter’s cold wind bends to hit my face
Winter’s rain falls only to last

Hunted by thoughts revolutionaries oh so strong
And the nation’s so carefree and it feels wrong
Forsook from the land of my dreams
Oh thoughts do laugh at me
do wave as sing: so long old king

I should take a stand to take control
My dear throne is the thing I lack
My soul my mind I demand to come forth
My heart I demand to forfeit the black
World of mine, all for one & one for all
On that throne I’ll sit back
Said on that, I will sit back

 

The Poet

pretty-sad-woman1

The poet sheds one tear
On hundreds of sentences
Empty papers, unwritten years
Locked exits, locked entrances
The night brings her fears
Loneliness, ugly resemblances
So the poet goes to sleep
And she dreams of scenes
Of worlds that never existed

You can hear her at night
Her silent cries horrify
They cut through this silence
And silent after the sunrise
I can feel her pain
It’s a torment to the sane
By darkness she’s desired
And an enemy she is to fire

The poet writes her masterpiece
The perfection of pain and grief
The beauty of a feeling unleashed
Weeps from the deception of beliefs
A relief comes as robbed from a thief

The poet feels high as she writes
But the poem refuses to end
Two days and nights of fright
But relief wont come again
The poet spent a lifetime
And found no happy endings
Sought a completed rime
And found nothing but death in it

Marionettes Versus Kings

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Sometimes the memories are so perfect that they become forgettable
Then you keep thinking of your darkest secrets till they become deniable
You’re so weak that you think you’re strong
‘Cause denial’s controlling your mind now
You might think that I’m clearly wrong
But you know that I’m definitely right

The truth of the fake world is a vision

That’s made by blind men
Right and wrong make no sense
And I do prefer nonsense
‘Cause what might look right to me
Might be wrong depends on your beliefs
Those who understood this life
Are behind the bars of their own minds
Captive out from taking any actions
By the leaders that fear a real man’s reaction

Behind white masks rotten grows

But the masks are so pretty that we’ll never know
Behind every crown there’s a hungry viper
Controlling these strings placing thorns…
in the depth of souls

They stink, are they marionettes, are they kings?
I think I better not speak of the unknown
They’re acting flawless, they’re standing in awe
And the fear of one’s attack has grown
Tonight they dance with the devil on their souls
Ignoring the whispers of these crying angels
Foolish selves create defense
Their walls of lies are created to be fallen

 You’re now beginning to understand the nonsense
But sadly you’re still trying to make sense
Just bring yourself back and know who you are
Just in time before you kill your spirit and soul
If you want to know the truth never close your eyes
But you can’t, you need to sleep at night
If you think that I’m right
Then you don’t really understand
And if you think that I’m wrong
Then you don’t deserve to be alive
Now the gates are open, the gates of hell
And the lands of heaven will never be full
Now the devil has taken the form of an angel
And the angels fight to keep their wings
The right side is yet to win
We’ve found ourselves in a mess we cannot fix
A massive amount of hate and personal vengeance
No one’s immortal but a great sin is
And my sin was watching victims in suffering

 No questions asked
for the right question is only right
Only when asked to the right man
For one hero we make prayers
But we don’t really need a hero
Only a cold, cruel warrior
In our lonely minds the fight begins
And the limits depend on our lonely minds
This world’s reality was once a vision
So a vision isn’t reality but reality was a vision
And what we have created can be changed
With a vision that comes with the right decisions