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Sometimes, I backslide through the smoke As the free world howls In demented refrains I’ll find myself speeding On a rugged decline, Stones clawing at my skin For the evils I’ve sown I’ll fall from the hills As a blood red mist, Contorted and maimed By the swift voyage down, For the rottenness I gave
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Long live the biting urge Of my cruelest curse, So I may scrawl Beyond the arc Of each sweeping day Let me live to be seasoned Gnarled and grey, Still bound to the keys In the heat of creation
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The hunt is on For the long lost chime of my voice For the melody that soared To meet the snarls of the reaper Somewhere It echoes its sorrowful tune, Unreeled in e-minor, As a shadowy ravine
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Where is the next murdering snare That will slice at my skin With her iron affection, The one rusted from neglect? Where is she, My spring-loaded death? Does she lie among autumn’s leaves Or in fields of ever-green? Is she merely a dream From a paranoid soul? Woven from a stray mind That’s engulfed in…
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I’m washed ashore by the sour brine Where the sunlight pours And pelts me with truth When the well has run dry Devoid, of its merciful, murdering cure, Drained of the elixir That makes my words soar I’ll crawl through the sand, Baked brittle and sane Then rise to my feet To seek madness again
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There’s a steady gale of orchids Sweeping our beloveds Up and away Their blazing bright eyes Are fixed upon us In the memories we clutch, Relive and retread
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Bittersweet, Woven out of cloths of grey The day sails on a dreary wind The hours unreel In light and shadows, A two-toned path, A quarrel for the mind Back and forth Bittersweet Its the ebb and flow I quietly abide
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Half past midnight. I lost a wheel in the dark, Met the chatter of the wild, The metal waft of blood Two o’clock. I trudged Due west With my legs set afire, Crazed and bathed in crud and sweat Past four. I dove into a maze of fallen trees Before the snarls of death Could…
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When all light Slips the binds of my soul, I reach into the past To retrieve the summer night, When the sky was afire When I took to the hills To be silenced by glory, Its flames reaching down From its heavenly perch I carry that scene Through my furious tomorrows As the shield I…
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This solitude chills my veins And bundles my limbs With its ireful ghosts In its hideaway I shiver, Reliving every pit and snare In the forests and valleys Of voyages past
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