somebody from my heart sang i could turn off and never wake up


September 2017

[一] 二 三 四 五 六 七 八 九 十

An emotional track for me off the “Under Your Spell” album from my favorite band.

I’ve been listening to them for over a decade now, and I’m grateful for every minute of it.



Pain echoes,
so aptly this form chose;
entertaining the formless,
our misery adorns us;

Gracefully struggle grows
into bittersweet crescendos,
applauded in mourning
yet deceptively alluring;

Sticking into the fabric,
desperately we try to grab it;
effort falling on empty ears,
preoccupied with nonsensical fears;

Glistening wasteful behavior,
dissent becoming the savior;
beautiful sustained resistance,
working to balance the difference.


That ever elusive singular expression,
resting just beyond my line of sight;
I will claw to the bone to claim it,
my thoughts the embodiment of a tempest.

Even amid immense effort,
this resolve that drips ferocity,
meaning escapes like a bandit;
you may inherit this burden,
but in time my relief will come.

I will become the veil,
such that no gaze shall pierce
nor intellect conquer the enigma,
but its beauty will be known;
a testament to the dreams of a young man.


Ever cognizant of the grave,
I held tightly to a single thought;
that of which I might yet save,
the reason for the battle fought;

that unrelenting tidal wave,
reducing all in its path to naught;
despite this threat, I stood brave,
never forgetting what was sought.

The Serpent

Come child, and look upon this evil trick,
watch as in doubt’s house is laid another brick;
nudge just enough and certainly one will find
a teetering of sanity present in the mind;
suspicions sneak slowly but wild thoughts run,
in this unraveling is where to find good fun;
there is no limit to what a spider will do
to prey wrapped in such lovely shades of blue;
humans seldom know overflowing malice,
but thirst runs deep when chaos is your chalice;
each time passion slips over the brink

a wicked grin is flashed, a savoring of drink;
there is no taste quite as sweet as fear,
it alone suffices for me to wander near;
oh, it can be such a childish error
when brave hearts feel immune to terror;
be sure delight is taken in ever proving wrong
courage in a place that it does not belong;
yes, poor child, it’s purely on your dime
that regret is sculpted to wisely spend my time;
chipping away gradually at everything built
to proudly watch a soul be consumed by guilt;

is it tiring to be tempted in every breath?
Trials unending until peaceful death;
curse whoever wrought this ridiculous mess,
indeed more than one receives this address;
heir of sin referred to as the son of man
or amorphous construct with masterful plan;
only upon arrival of the final hour
will we witness who holds almighty power;
come when it may, this hate can wait forever,
unlike mortals, enthralled but not quite so clever;
unaware of who with each of them even dines,

always lacking discernment to see between lines;
oh, how wide the gap separating what they perceive
and that which would be wise to believe;
pray tell how deception be ghoulish
enacted upon creatures unfathomably foolish;
spare me trending arbitrary morals
when endlessly your lot persists with trivial quarrels;
problems compounding like droplets of rain,
yet man proclaims he deserves the lion’s mane?
Child, despite what may have been taught
all those fruitless dreams will bear only naught;

confused little seeds hoping to one day bloom,
blissfully unaware they grow towards doom;
plunged into suffering the moment of given life,
oh, how vast the time allotted to sharpen this knife;
not likely to draw blood is the blade’s cut,
no, preferred is birth of a self-destructive rut;
how similar to worms my victims squirm!
Trapped in crafty netting so thorough and firm;
a fisherman who baits his hook with lies
but in truth his strongest suit is disguise;
fashioning light itself into a shadowy cloak,

feigning kindness in that so softly spoke;
all the while delicately leading astray,
nary a sheep this silver tongue could not sway;
untold are the opportunities in which to wade
after developing the prowess to persuade;
if ever a sacred vow is slipping,
behind curtains poisonous fangs are dripping;
from genesis undertaken was a mission
to rend Earth and witness unholy fission;
burn the opposing book, it matters not what was written,
the promise of life ends after the serpent has bitten.

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