Waking up somewhere else

Where too start, with so many things falling apart at the seams. It becomes harder to think straight let alone find words to make sense of any of this. You see the abilty to go on with blind faith is like all of those empty " thank you's " and " good morning's " and heaven forbid let us not leave the best of them all... " I love you's ". So with that which has or has to be said, well shit nevermind lost my train if thought.


--//•

Inventing the wine.

For the words that maybe better left on paper. And the night which we gave the last chance to breathe under water.

Now typecasting in a role that is laughable at best. Counting the cars of a passing train like sheep right before this car wreck transports the dead into the living.

With all of the sharks still chasing the smell of blood. You keep smiling while choking on your own tears.

After times spent far away in spaces and places, this is still the same old game. The only difference now is the stench of desperation.

So the child sat by the fire, with dreams of today were only here for yesterday.


--//•

The fire for

Like the game laying wounded on the forest floor, how could a starving man justify this as a meal worth eating.

Yet even when the hunt grows into a mound of bullshit set up by the lame man who had little to no standards.

It was only a romatic dream shared for the slightest of time.. So bleed to death.

Like the sounds of a beating drum this warmachine keeps on fleeting like the timid soliders who were fighting a war that was never their own.

Bleed! Bleed to a death that will never be understood, for your debt must be paid.


--//•

Unto

The silence is growing like another monster that feeds on your well engineered plans.

Pushing the dagger deeper, these are merely tools to be tossed aside at the first sign of recovery.

Again all the words in the world can not help us from drowning in the desert.

To take back the coma is only a compermise for the idle work of the demons at play.

He has always been the honest hard working man the wolrd made him, yet still there is a need for more hellish trials.

Now with the nest in a full on fury, the restless are still in search for a remedy, a
reprise..

Hold on through the late nite bombing and the dawns early sound of gunfire, just suck it up they say.. We know how it is..

With steadfast blame, wait for this storm to pass and die before the next winters pain resides.

-- Post From My iPhone