July 7, 2013

Whatever that might be I doubt I will ever know

They say many things

They say what they want to say

To make themselves that much higher in the scheme of things

It really doesn’t matter any more

Who cares for the words of those that will rot alone beside those they cast down?

Not I.

My life

My actions

They are mine to destroy

I find it bitter to the taste this feeling of loss when no feeling pushes its way through my soul to change they way I think


My touch is like that unto the Black Death

The most perfect flower created by 
God himself

Would wither and die at my very touch

That comes with the touch of one so negative as I

I died once…. Maybe twice

I never got the hint I guess

The dead stay dead

At least those that are happy to remain as such

I died many years ago

Many times ago

(Yeah Right)

Only now do I wake and realize the foolishness of my quest for the perfect life

It no longer exists to me

It died long before I was born I do believe

So I am told

So I heard

Do you believe everything you hear?

Told by lips so sharp they could cut the deepest wound for my soul to bleed from

Yet if I am dead how could my soul bleed?

A constant turmoil of what if?

And what about that time?

It matters not any more

I am gone to those that thought they had a chance to delve into the mind of a man that doesn’t even know the mind he owns

You cannot be the Shepard to the sheep lost in the darkness of a mind so dark

Rocks before your path cause your stumble,

The grail never in sight, so bright it is

Surly it would shine in darkness such as this?

The grail is, as man would never understand within himself

The man himself told it to them

To us

It was never a dirty cup wrapped in cloth under the floor of some forgotten church

The only forgotten church is your heart

And now mine lays crushed under the foot of the man whom owns it

So foolish to think that life could carry on without the vital organ needed to pump the blood of Christ

The blood of the father

The father of the bastard child

The bloody virgins

The ungrateful

The willing

The oh so foolish believers of a God that matters not

He matters not because he cares not

The ants to crush are we

The ants beneath the feet of God


Not ants


People that care little for the life of there own kind

Killing without care

Loving until it suits them

Distaste I have for our kind

We are the only animals on the planet that act like a disease

Constantly destroying everything around it in order to survive

How pathetic we are

How high we have put ourselves upon the pedestal of life

So high

Waiting for the fall

I wish I would be alive for the time that it comes to watch man fall upon the hard understanding ground

The true life we have all come to ignore

We know nothing

We understand everything

So foolish we are

So pathetic when you sit back and think about it all

Sit back in your favorite bar swilling beer after beer

Watching your sports

The gladiators of the new age

Just with more drugs in their bodies

So foolish are we

So sad

I repeat myself I know

How could I not?

We repeat ourselves every day

With every war

Every murder

Every child born from parents too young to understand just what it is they are holding in their stupid ignorant arms

The time for love lost is gone

It no longer exists

We killed it

Along with all the other animals in this world we once looked at in awe

“Oh so beautiful!….. Now lets kill it!”

Oh God

Have we sunken so low now?

Is there an escape plan for mankind?

Or is this it?

Did you decide one day that hell was over rated?

Did you think as you gazed down at those that should be suffering and realized As they were relaxing by deep blue pools with servants handing them mixed cocktails that something had gone very wrong?

Did you change your mind knowing it was time to move hell?

I think you did

I think you looked down at us

As pathetic as we are

You looked down and decided just where to put Hell

Why not?

We were living it anyway……. right?

If it ain’t broke why fix it?

Isn’t that how the saying goes?

We created Hell

We are in it now

Only the foolish and the good at heart think we have a chance

Or am I the foolish?

Am I the leader of the group that stumbles through the darkness?

Forever looking for the thing I lost

Forever searching until one day I can no longer remember just what I was looking for?

Walking away

Looking back several times trying to remember

Then nothing


The true hell

The true hell we have created


The saddest thing is

Lucifer is nowhere in sight