Advertisements

Tag Archives: meaning

Invisible (for the Forgotten and the Victims of Searing Injustice)

Nobody seems to care for

What cannot be Seen

But when I look into the Mirror,

I don’t only see Me and

It cannot be Clearer

that I am but a function of We.

No one can Decieve

Nor make me Believe

that my Mind is a Sieve

To make me Live as a Piece

of this Hideous machine

That turns it’s Insidious,

Vacant Engines

with it’s Darkly

Suicidal Intentions,

think not of those

Who Find others to Blame

but Seek the depraved

and Lose my own Name to

Leave the whole World

Decaying in Shame

and look up to the Stars

and Beyond the Tame

Cities broken Boondox

Terrestrial shattered

Civilized Paradox

The Things I See when the Lights go Out

Fascinatingly, Terrifying

It doesn’t matter, shut them Out

These ghosts in my Head

That I cannot get out

Titanic Mistakes which

I did make

and though my Life is Not empty

It’s still far from Full

Those who are Forgotten

my Soul still does Pull

closer ever to my Heart

Which is not One

But billions tied

To All who suffer and

All those who Cry

And When my Eyes are shut

I Still can see

The Victims right

In front of me

Those who are blind

and Narrow in Mind

never think to care

For whats Righteous or Fair

And if you’ve been to the bottom

Can you comprehend what’s on top?

Dark, red Blood on

a Long, cold Blade

and All of the Ghosts

Suddenly

Fade

Advertisements

Sounds

How can I be loud

When I try to Shout

No sounds come out?

How can Sounds have meaning

When they are intangible

untouchable and Receding?

How symbolic are the syllables

That leave my lips

Or are the markings engraved on Ancient crypts?

How are the sounds of falling leaves

Less beutiful then

A piano’s keys?

Sounds may seem comprehensible to fools

Who aren’t frustrated with a Language’s

Elegance, intricacy, it’s rules

But the thoughts that die within my head

Might in the darkness illuminating

Light be shed

Were not for sounds to make us see the World

To which we might all be bound

Like bats which scream at the Night to see

What Are Sounds?

A mystical phenomenon of Noise to me,

But not hearing the sights in front of you

Selfdestructing, absolute choleric,

Your eyes would misconstrue

The Sound we hear

Is all around shouting howling at the

Sky smashing anger and fury are distinct,

but Listening

is Extinct


Homeless

when you start singing your not so alone

a place that’s not a place ain’t really a home

a fact that may be known can be thrown by some

to find new meaning in a house that’s gone


%d bloggers like this: