Here are a few more
-Sinner-
I'm covered with sin
It's my second skin
Redemption I cannot win
I've got a devil within
See it when I grin
Love is something thats been
Not something that will be
No not for me
Thats when the sin begins
Life goes from start to fin
I've got a devil within
It sure does like to grin
We all have a twin
Of evil we hold in
Prickin like a pin
No reason for life to be
Thats why the twin is me
Thats why I let the devil free
I sure do like to grin
With my blood soaked skin
Making life come to....
Fin.
An Explanation for Mr. Chan
So you'll fight us without a backward glance
Just assuming that our reverence
Is directed to the one who turned us into this,
That there's nothing we've lost, and nothing we miss.
Well then, I guess I should start listing
All the 'benefits' that come with assisting
An old, insane, withered, bent shell
Of a man who's thoughts constantly dwell
On the ridiculous concept of world domination
And pursuing this goal through our humiliation.
It's taken us two arduous years to get to the point
Where we have finally become just barely adroit
Enough to even lay a finger on you
Let alone take you out, and what can we do?
Nothing, just continue to wearily fight
Aware of your stature, your goodness, your might.
Enough with point one, let's move to point two-
How we spend our days as servants, and rue
The mornings when sunlight just barely is born
Before the chilly dawn air is violently torn
By his unbearable, high pitched, relentless shriek:
"Gun! Run! Chui! Get to the kitchen and heat
my tea! Fetch my books! What is this? Dust!
Make the bed! Sweep the floors! Lick them clean if you must!"
And so begins another fabulous day
Of bowing and scraping and hiding away
Watching him peruse those fragile old books
Knowing that with enough sneaky looks
We could find away to restore what we were.
That inside those pages might lay our cure.
But as you well know, we're too cowardly
To take the chance of being caught, we
Have been tortured and beaten for much, much less.
You don't believe me? Here, I'll let you assess
The scars and the bruises, all of them new
Quite different from the ones caused by you.
These go deeper than each visible mark
Burning and stabbing till our vision goes dark.
And that brings me succinctly into point three
Did you know we can't eat? Sleep? Dream?
The only rest our new bodies require
Are those few moments when we 'expire'
Just to awaken in a nightmarish place.
Did you know where he keeps us? From the look on your face
I'd guess the answer is no. I'd suspected as much.
So let me attempt to begin to convey what such
a horrible place it is we're banished to
though it's going to hard to describe to you.
You know that feeling, right when you wake?
When your chest is constricted and the world feels fake?
When the digital clock blinks a blood red hour?
When the adrenaline blooms in your veins like a flower?
Take that terror, that heat, that predatory shade
Capture and bottle it, and you've just made
Our home. Our den. The place where we go
To relax and unwind from our stressful day. So.
Look at me now, and tell me truthfully
Do you really not feel a shred of empathy?
And God help me, yes, I seem really crazy
Having this chat with myself, but since there's no one near me
I have to be content with my inner ranting.
It's better than the silent, private lamenting
We do, when we lay prone in that malevolent prison
Praying and begging, beyond rhyme or reason.
And now I return to something I previously mentioned
The inability to dream caused by our 'ascension'.
And one last question (I hope you can cope)
If we cannot dream, how can we hope?
Think of me II
In the adjoining life when
You look at the twilight
Welkin and see the celestial body
Think of me
When you feel the touch of nature
Or sail a famous sea
Think of me
When you smell a flower or
See a tower
Think of me
and when your happy to the highest
Degree make sure you
Think of me.
The Narrows
I despise the narrows.
Narrow space can produce nothing good.
Narrow people inspire envy and resentment.
Narrow minds yield only self-serving and unreasoned hate.
Narrow eyes hide the truth.
Narrow souls make bitter men.
Reflections From an Ailing Moon
On a day in winter
Most lethal of the tetrology,
I wasted the time burning cold
Convalescent upon a sickbed,
From mid Decembers morn to mid Decembers night
Lied I there endlessly more pallid,
Moaning from my swollen lips
My breath and soul growing ever more shallow.
In the depths of night
Before the dozen bells,
A caller came to the door
Pulling me through my ailing dream,
He stood cacophonously silent
What sense remained betrayed him cold as I,
Twas no witness of Jehovah
Nor a peddler of delights,
But a dark cloaked and gaunt formed man
With visage kept to shadow.
He thrust forth his hand
A sickly member wholly skeletal and frail,
As he moved his robe ripped from nights sky shifted
His tarnish scythe blade flickered like a sickly crescent moon,
The silken hood he wore shuffled without a sound
And he croaked to me that I should come,
I stiffened slowly in a minute that lasted a million years,
Took his hand and winced with sudden chill.
The street and houses were fully gone
Each fence and yapping hound burned away,
I stood instead on a dismal plain,
Sown with withered grass,
The dark-cloaked spectre beckoned me
Bid me take his well-worn path,
We walked upon a sullen road
Kept to a sluggish pace.
With but an hours passing stood we at the end
No longer on the blighted earth but within a pallid void,
Two stone faces adrift before us
Both the same in ends and means,
Each bore a face, baroquely carved from rock,
One a grinning devil and the other a frowning god,
In each face was uniformly set,
A gaping maw of endless black,
The gasping thing that brought me turned and harshly spoke
Said that I may enter either and that neither offered hoped,
In this I damnably gained mad assurance
Basking the colorless gloaming of my penultimate thought,
Closed my eyes and held my fruitless breath,
Paid no heed my straining form or spirit,
My arm stretched forward not shaking nor afraid
And lo', I was gone.
The Party
Under the dark velvet sky of the night
Is when the wild creatures dance into sight
All having fun without a worry or care
None can resist, weather common or rare.
Under the stars the rabbits begin to swoon
And the wolf comes out to sing to the moon.
Bats fly all around in the great big sky
While lizards like to crawl and scamper by.
Ferrets and mice like to squeak and play
And the coyote comes out to yip and bay.
Monkeys swing from tree to tree
While horses run wild and free.
Cats of all sizes lay in complete bliss.
And up in the trees the snakes will hiss.
Rivers hold fish of every size and shape
While at honeycombs is where bears wait.
Sugar gliders sail like kites in a breeze
And raccoons like to hide in the leaves.
Turtles walk slowly without a sound
While a skunks smell is easily found.
The red fox comes out to join with her friends
And the owl swoops in before the fun ends.
Squirrels run back and forth hiding nuts and seeds
While the alligator tends to its own needs.
All through the night animals laugh and have fun
But they all go home before the light of the sun.
Even though the animals couldn't stay
They'll be back, cause tomorrow is another day.
The Forest
It gave me life,
It gave me love.
Long we lived here
but now is gone.
The days of summer
Filled with compassion
For something so out of fashion.
By my bare hands the thing of beauty once was.
By my bare hands the thing of beauty no longer was...
