Conviction

The freedom within living in perfect consistence,
Questions this peculiarly strained twofold of an existence,
A world in which I can dance to perfect persistence,
And another in which I can perform to a twofold resistance.

Rivers of asphalt form the pathways of my convictions,
Tell me, son of man, were these not your initiate predictions?
Am I to remain uncorrupted by these consequent moral afflictions?
And yet... we are only as real as these condescending words and fictions.

I cannot be anymore than I already believe,
I am the embodiment of every meaning I've come to perceive,
I shall die in a time when lies can no longer conceive,
I shall die in a time when truth, instead, is destined to deceive.

The King's Song

"I am a king," "I order you to sing."
"You shall not disobey," "'Tis obedience that you will portray."

"I ask of you my king, my song for a piece of earth?"
A king would speak truth, "Your songs are not nearly worth."

"Perhaps then, my king, a quilt, so that I may rest at night and sleep?"
"I offer you a jail cell, deep in the dungeons of my keep."

"I beg of you my king, might my songs be rewarded with food?"
"Never have I come across a servant ill demanding and rude!"

"Spare my life, all ruling king,"
"What would you have me -to your ears- sing?"

"A great man of men! Undefeated by whatever the tide ought bring!"
"A merciful and wise being! To that, my insolent servant, you shall sing!"
"Forget not, filthy servant, that I am your king"
"And by the light, It is your head that I may string!"

"I sing to you my king, but where lies your place of stride?"
"Dare you question me servant? Servants are merely destined to abide!"

"I sing, but I know not of that in which you take glory."
"It is of war and battle that people speak of when telling my story."

"Excellent my king, and what of your pride?"
"I take it in my name, and in my kingdom at which I reside."

"Most great you are, what of your days, sire?"
"I have lived a proud 53 years, far too great to retire."

"Then I shall sing words to a man so fiercely feared,"
"Whose ruthlessness is well known and admittedly revered."

"But my words are not those of a mere servant,"
"I am the angel of death, king, and I have been observant."

"Your part has been played, and you have perfected your role,"
"Mine has yet to begin, as I have been sent to collect your soul."

"If I were to choose words to the song I would sing,"
"They would be not nearly worth long live the king."

Anomaly

There is not a more dark and mysterious place,
No way out, and yet I find comfort in your beautiful face,
My chest feels tight, my breathing takes not a steady pace,
And yet, here I am... breathing your beauty to my steady embrace.

No one knows that you and I are here,
No one knows what you and I can hear,
While my surroundings instill my being with pure fear,
All is unseen, and yet seeing you makes it all too clear.

Paralyzed before an anomaly of a duplex domain,
There is but only one absolute that I can come to explain,
I am of tears and coping, all so seemingly mundane,
You are of love and hoping, all so undeniably arcane.

Little by little, demons and angels gather round,
They do not speak a word, they do not make a sound,
Awed in silence at the confusing sight that they had found,
Amazed at a paradox of forces by which you and I are bound.

Dimension

My mind speaks of specular infinity,
But it knows nothing of definite inevitability,
My heart speaks of secular affinity,
But it knows nothing of definite divinity.

My surroundings fall perfectly into place,
A select dimension to fit an imperfect brace,
In the midst of a disorderly perfect space,
I am the one imperfect being that I wish to erase.

I am certain of nothing except that I am filled with doubt,
After all, I was indeed the liquid born of sheer drought,
Should I choose purpose, what should you be about?
Flickering lights choose persistence... as they fade and die out.

The culling begins, and to none shall it avail,
Where will you and I be... when they speak of our tale?

Evanescent

I reside beneath you... yet I fail to see how,
You paint over the past truths... with one lie from now,
I stand beside you... and I take yet another vow,
You watch observantly, raising yet another brow.

Will you not release... thrust me into a sanctuary for mortal peace?
Will you not cease... my perishing through immortal decay and decrease?

In my silence... lies the evanescent beauty of a given sound,
Cry your tears from the sky... and I shall drink them from the ground,
So very lost without you... and in your absence I am profound,
A king of all that is miserable... miserable as a king uncrowned.

Will you not reveal... that I have nothing left for you to steal?
Will you not conceal... that I have nothing left in me to feel?

I hold so many questions... you always give the same answer...
This is your theater... and I am your perfectly puppeteered dancer...
What makes this work? What makes you my everlasting cancer?
Help me... these words are the high to my paralleling trancer.

Will you not take... one of the many sentences that I make...
Will you not break... one of the many meanings that I rake....

Bring me your troubles... let me take your pain,
Maybe such is my fate... am I so destined in vain?
Another flame... forming throughout my inside plain,
Inextinguishable... only fueled by my outside teary rain.

Hollow

At last, in me, one half of whatever seems purely hollow,
Without question, I am your sin and I shall gladly follow.

To no end, to the four corners of each square,
Yet, it is all just too real... it is all just too unfair.

I would throw you away... or burn you in cold flames,
But you are not real... you are not bound by my names.

Shhh! Listen... can you not hear the frequencies of pain?
No?... But this is where they belong! This is their domain!

Never let go... because I am here... at your very side,
Never let go... because I am your friend... or so I've tried.

At last, in me, one half of whatever seems purely hollow,
The other, poisoned love so hard to resist, so easy to swallow.

Drained

The world is spinning... I can only imagine how fast,
Do I oppose... and question the future with my past?
Red skies befall a blue ocean... and I cannot see the contrast,
Why can't I find you... when this world is only so damn vast?

Yet, I stand here, out in your open space,
Holding on to the tears running down my happy face,
Am I but the only sour in all the sweet you taste?
Am I but the only shadow in every dream you've chased?

Lay here, in this silent wreckage of an endless pain,
It seems as though I am the weakest link in your endless chain,
I shall lay beside you, and we shall pray for the fall of rain,
To guide us and flow together... in a river headed for the drain.

Chordless

Reader, understand the pain of this chord,
If you can but listen, hold, distill and record,
You would have shackled, seen and fully assured,
The dryness of a pen that bleeds much like a singing sword.

Reader, do you not see how small a tear?
Yet there is none more precious... utterly none more dear,
Brought forth into the face and name of what we fear,
Soon you will sacrifice... your very masked frontier.

Yet, I wonder, reader, do you cry?
Do you wake up... then ask yourself why?
Stand before yourself... and look into your eye?
I wonder what you tell yourself... and how big a lie.

Reader, do not hate these words, we are all the same,
There is no hate here, no jealousy, no explosive shame,
But who do you push... who do you fight... who do you blame?
When the beauty of rain kills the beauty of a dancing flame.

Farewell, reader, for it is much too late,
My pen has dried up and is as cold as fate,
Return once more, for I will be here and I shall await,
To hear the chordless sounds of our endless debate.