Words

  • Unwanted

    We throw them away, these views that hold such beauty and obscurity. Holding importance in their shapes and forms, textures and colours like a Jackson Pollock painting that people brush under the carpet as “another painting from that guy who throws around his medium”.

    These scenes were given to us by nature and mad inventors and developers; scenes that tell us a story of history through wind, rain, snow, hunger, obsession, anger and hope.

    Littered amongst the dead leaves of autumn and the spilled disgust of the modern age. Thrown against the walls of statues built by men only a few hundred years ago; fairly modern successes still loved.

    Shapes are thrown by the star which holds such power many underestimates but could take it all in an instant if it chooses. The shapes cast down on our creations with such intense grace but are ignored as they’re passed by in a rush to get to the pub on time.

    Looking up at the eye of our creator with pain burning in the back of our skulls; for a second blocked by our literal lifeline which connects millions, trapping us under their arms like a fish caught in a net.

    A brief second captured before the scene of contrast is destroyed by the breath of the wind which once placed it there to be seen by those who are willing to see it.

    These things are important to the world but are passed without care and notice. They tell a story of history and power, focus and understanding

  • Spade

    We sit and wait to die,
    because time goes slow,
    and won't fulfil our wishes,
    until the universe is ready,
    to grab the spade,
    and bury the hearts of want,
    in the dust of broken planets,
    and collapsed stars.

  • Hammer of Witches

    When the winds blow,
    and the tables have turned,
    the proof is summoned blind,
    from the confines of pains,
    resting their skulls,
    they collect from heroes,
    due to punishment overdue.

    Broken views,
    of rotting flesh,
    hanging from trees,
    nightmare judgments,
    unjust and darkened,
    or shadowed,
    by the light of torches.

    Humanity unhinged,
    from the might of God,
    grasping the hold,
    of Satan’s curse,
    spellbound through words,
    that leads them to hell,
    and the defeat of cries.

  • J.

    When I feel too much,
    i get pains in my stomach,
    they stretch to the stars,
    that once held you up high,
    amongst the Gods of grace.

  • Untitled 5.0

    Imported domestication,
    in the circle life of self abuse,
    longing for the attention of world changers,
    doppelgängered ideas,
    and marching minds