My eyes may not be kind,
Or a light happy blue.
But that is because they are tainted
By the things they've seen.
Grime and unpleasantness
Will build up.
But you can still look through broken windows,
No matter how cracked.
But that's only if there's something on the other side to see.

I drown the sorrows in the strongest thing I can get my hands on.
An acoustic guitar thrums in the background,
The light rapping of a hi-hat keeps pace.
My eyes are bleary and half focused,
A tear runs a track down my cheek.
I wake up in the morning,
The speaker still on
And still going.
For a moment,
The world seems better.
Until the yelling starts upstairs.

We spend all of our forsaken existence Fighting to make our mark on the world
When the truth is that nothing we do will Last in this life.
Our loved ones will die,
Our names will vanish,
Our pride will fade.
Buildings will crumble,
Legacies will fall.
But still we crawl,
Trying to make our presence felt.
I simply want to watch this world burn,
So that I can simply leave it colder,
A small smile on my lips.

Fire can purify.
It can purge.
Burn away the excess.
Melt away the impurities.
Would it work for me?

Should I start taking gasoline shots,
Light a match,
And swallow it?
Will the bad burn away?
The anger, pain and hate?
Will it evaporate?

Will I be reborn,
Like a phoenix in the flame?
Or will I be scattered across the seas,
Ashes in the wind,
A sudden flare from a dying star?

The strings quake
Mournful reverberations
Echoing off the walls.
Note by note
A story is told
Until the song ends.
And the feeling lingers.

After forever
Yet all too soon
We have forgotten
That we did not weave
The flags that we wave
We simply inherited them

Something isn't right.
There's a smoky overlay across the room.
It stretches across the sky and gathers in the corners.
It blankets the buildings and suffocates the trees.
I'm used to seeing Old Glory on every building.
But now she screams for help.
I got used to the sound of constant gunfire,
It went from being startling to reassuring.
Now the people turn on each other,
And a sociopath has been handed a red button.
Most people don't realize,
Nobody wishes more for peace than those who fight the war.

There's death everywhere.
Why is that a bad thing?
Death is natural.
Our reactions to it are not.
I'm back in the shadows
Where I belong.
Once again,
I shave the weakness from my skin.
If a warrior can sharpen his blade,
Then the blade can sharpen the warrior.
There's nothing wrong with that.

The flowers will die
This is the truth
But they will not leave
Because they wanted to
Hold tight to the Earth
They will bloom again
'Tis a matter of time
Until they return, My Friend
Take heed and rejoice
They stayed while they could
They gave you your comfort
They tried and did good
You should blame the blooms
That gave up too fast
Drowned themselves in their hate
And then turned to ash.
They turned a blind eye
To the good in this world
To the shadows, the angels
To the song, to the girl
She sits on her stage
Hides her face 'neath a mask
While the boy who bred shadows
Watches behind glass
We all lose our flowers
But do keep in mind
They will bloom again
It just takes some time

A rhythmic pounding,
one-two-three-four
Of my footfalls on the cracked stone.
I feel them close behind me,
Their breath burning the back of my neck.
A crazed grin splits my lips.
*This is what I live for.

It angers me,
That I can't find the words to express
The fact that I belong on a battlefield.
It's worse to realize,
That I'd hoped to die in combat all along.
But that way out is gone.

Sometimes we try too hard,
Sometimes not hard enough.
Its difficult to find the air of
Effortless perfection that
We wordsmiths hold so dear.

He who stalks the shadows,
Avoiding sunlight.
He who breeds shadows,
A loaded guitar slung on his back.
The Man behind the mystery
Is not the picture of romance
And desire the words suggest.
I would know.
The Man is really
Little more than a boy
Trying to find his place.

A sorrowful tide
Sweeps away the leaning trees
And scatters the sagging fences
The world beneath is flooded
As the clouds weep their loss
And creeping creatures scurry to
Break the surface least they lose their air.
The fury of forty days and forty nights
Is unleashed in a mere forty seconds.
And as soon as it has begun,
It ends.
The tide slides back into the sea,
The soaking sheets return to the clouds,
The worms breathe a sigh of relief.
It is over for now.

Life is but a chain of stops as we travel in circles,
Harvesting the heartstrings of those from our pasts,
Only to throw them in the fire when we meet our final forever.

I've come to the realisation
That we are all unknown,
Yet legendary.

Nightshade creeps low,
Leaves raking through the dirt.
Between the daisies and the petunias,
The roses stand tall
Until they are strangled.
Petals dance for a final few moments,
And the tendrils retract.

If only you knew the power you have
You never needed the depression
You've always been beautiful
I wish I could say the same

Maps,
Like most thing,
Have sharp corners and edges,
And are easy to fall off of.
Well,
I lost my balance.
That is plain to see.
Things do happen
But,
I've missed this place of wild words,
Of twisted minds and sick comfort.
I can't call it home,
But home is what it is...

I've realized,
The only thing keeping me sane
Is the steady tapping of the keys
As I pour out my emotions through my fingers.
I'm cleansing myself.
Storing all of the anger,
The desperation,
The madness
In a digital medium
Where I'm hoping it's trapped forever.

You would never guess
The man standing next to you on the street
Revels in insanity,
Feels at home in morbidity,
And finds beauty in violence.
The world is not entirely symmetrical,
And though I'm looking in a mirror,
I do scare myself.

I'm not normal.
Not your everday guy.
Not a regular Joe.
I've never hooked up.
I've never cheated.
I'm not the type to kiss and tell.
But I don't do that often either.

I'm a silent sentry,
Waiting until I'm needed.
I'm a soldier,
Looking for a war.
I'm a broken soul,
Looking for a change.
I'm a broken heart,
Looking for maintenance.

I'm always ready.
I'm never hesitant.
I'm constantly on guard.
I'm never trusting.
I'm always going to be different.
I'll never be like any of you.
That'll always be the case.
Because I'll never want to stoop to this world's level.

It's maddening.
There's a senseless drone,
Like an audible vacuum.
It claws at my ears,
Making my head ache.
I wish the quiet wasn't so **** loud.
Because things always get worse when all I can hear is my thoughts.

A hall of  mirrors  only serves to show our shortcomings from every angle.
After wandering for days I'll finally drop to my knees and sob;
*I asked you too ******* **** me so I wouldn't see myself this way

The moment
You first open
A bottle of
Good bourbon

Simple language
And a ****** soul
Usually bring a darker tone.
But sometimes it can be fun.
Oh, I hope this is one of those times!

It's impossible to
Build something
Worth the effort
If the pieces
Won't go back
Together

The time spent
Watching your blood
Pump
Through the veins
In your eyelids
As the wind rattles
The windows
And you sink into
A comfortable sleep

I have
Nowhere to hide.
There's a vacuum within,
And my skin is naught but mirrors,
Reflecting the world back unto itself.
People see the norm when they look at me because no real part of me breaches the surface.
It's all
consumed
and compacted,
Ever more to hold in an ever shrinking space.
I wait, wary for the day I know is coming.
When instead of compacting it expands,
Because then, nobody will be safe from what escapes.

A hero?
Me?
Laughable.
I've broken many things,
Hearts, bones,
Mine and theirs.
I'm a menace,
A monster.
I promise,
If you don't idealize me,
I won't save your ******* city,
And the villain can keep the girl.

He stopped me today,
A nocturnal hunter,
After exiting the crevasse
I had so eagerly
Taken refuge in only months before.
He cocked his head,
Ears twitching,
Nose searching the wind.

"You are of my kind." said he.
"And yet you are not.
I've never met one such as you.
You have fangs,
But they are hidden.
Your rage is tempered,
Yet your heart is still that of a wolf."
His eyes flashed in the dawn's
Fleeting moonlight.
"Who are you?"

For a moment,
A solemn shift took me
As I searched for the answer
To his query.

"I am The Silvertongue.
He who weaves legends,
Yet burns all he touches.
My paws are scarred,
My maw ******,
But what I do, I do for the rest.
I have sold my soul,
But heart and mind
Remain my own.
I have lived a life soaked with blood Of both friend and foe.
My scars have many sources,
I may answer indirectly,
But I never lie.
I have bred and buried shadows,
And I have both welcomed
And shunned the sunshine."

His tongue flashed across
His muzzle,
His teeth bared in
A feral grin.

Spoke the canine
"I envy your spirit
My friend.
You've tread a life
Lonely
But entrapped by
Millions of souls.
But know this.
You keep your own,
You know your spirit.
Your scars are the one thing
That they cannot take from you."