Bitter Ink

How often I drain my pen of the bitter ink

Only to dip it back in time and time again

Scratching out verses

With the blood of my soul

Hearing the words rattle off like ancient curses

 

Living off the hope

With a shattered mind

Wallowing in disrepair

Without a fuck to spare

Using the pain to cope

The only high I find

In my reality of low

The scars never show

 

The deep dark abyss of the light once again

Swallowed me whole

As I taste the sweet poison in my drink

That life has poured for me

I taste all I was, all I ever will be

Slouching towards Shambala

Slouching towards Bethlehem

On my way to the infinite stairs of Shambala

Looking for the nerve to find vana

The perfection of paradise

Like the tossing of a pair of dice

No seven come eleven

Only snake eyes looking back

In the darkness of path

Wisdom shows seldom

The route to where I am going

 

The fool wandering to and fro

Ducking ,weaving and bobbing the attack

Of spirit which reaps the heart

And steals the only part

That is left to take

In the light of the life I forsake

 

Playing the cards I’ve been dealt

No mulligan for me

Suicide black

Life as a resource

For it seemed so abundant

I keep my own confidant

Glory at any cost

Even if the battle is lost

Winning my war in death

Grinning with the last breath

The Pyrrhic smile

Memory Stain

I created my own hell

And from that solitary cell

The pain never goes away

Forever the stain of a warm sunny day

Memories that haunt the light

Lasting long into the night

Of a life gone

A truth that never shone

Beneath the lies of living

In the world of the unforgiving

Where there is no choice

To change the echo of the lost voice

No chance to recreate the past

To fix a future that will last

As the present crumbles to the ground

With the splash of tiny drops of sound

Hate flow

Hate 

That’s all that resides in these bones

So much of it flows

Where it comes from no one knows

Through my veins it rushes 

Embedded in my DNA  it pushes 

Ever since my birth 

I’ve roamed this earth 

Like a malevolent spectre 

With hate as my protector 

The weary weight 

Of this natural fate

Induced by nature 

And amplified by nuture 

Leaves darkness where light once shone 

Saintly

The bitter taste of life

The broken soul of one who would never be a quitter

A back full of knives

Some older than you

Shredded dreams that no longer cause screams

The quiet acceptance of oblivion

A life misspent

A sinner who’ll never repent

The saint with bloody hands

Washing them the grains of sands

From the hours wasted upon the shores of futility

The fight that would not end

The war he could not win

The battle he never lost

Yet he always paid for the cost