Let the slumber sleep until..

Sitting in front of another zombie, Frank wondered helpless and afraid of the days ahead what lame uneventful task has he became involved with. The stench of lazy flesh pealing from the dead leather object of comfort which in time has became a replacement for the womb we so once cherished over all. Simple liberties are given up with each passing moment, while Jane and her sleepy complacent lover let it all transpire for the whiff and idea of cheese burger which's hormone and mind controlled tainted meat sits on the counter blossoming into a theory of freedom from it's rancid grip over their worker bee slash free radical progressive Ikea furnished lives.

~<{=+=}>~

Location:S 230th St,Des Moines,United States

into the night, we are.

the ship is sinking, and for the lack of better words..
it would be safe to say we were never looking for love.
on the shoreline the two of us sat watching it unfold like
a paper game to be played by a couple of middle school love-byrds.

She told a tale of fairy-tale mystery, while he sold a
dream filled with hope and despair, only for a moving picture show
of what is.. to at a later said date to reveal this was always bullshit.

History tells us that being years ahead will only get you so far.

.......and that you can only hide behind these words for so long,
before any lack of proper grammar and courage comes around to
fight back.

so to set sail unto the blackened seas without a plotted chart,
would leave us with a empty heart again.

I alone am not enough, and you in the hands of those who do not care are never
a resolve. Such ah untimely distance is the reasonably answer for those
which seek none.

Funny how the words of a simple term care strike like the lighting that lets the
fire burn, while the edge is a comfort you seek... and years ago to the day he was
already there and like the miles between they were only inches on the map.

If only in tomorrow.

Hate to find out after living a life with no regrets, that there is.

Only to find I was a fool for my own demise.

You were there, there the last time I was on a knee crying out for mercy, oh mercy me.

Yes I was a fool for the games of the weak hearted.

One can only wish that under the stars of tonite, you'll be sleeping in the arms that which are stronger than my own.

With lost love's remorse, they weep for the empty glass.. For the empty leap's of faith.

And I find funny these can't be my words, cause I'd never have the nerve to speak 'em.

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