only yet to reveal
An even lonelier body without a soul to revere
The mime spread his wings of might
As the mime revealed his trueness of flight
Satan cries turned to fear as he saw who it was
The holy one standing tall with a look of despise
For the King on the floor was sent by his hand
To remove the knife from my heart and place it in Satan's back
I stopped the death of the one who killed me
I out of fear turned to my hero and now the devil lives
I will truly be banished from the pearly life of glee
I will now be in eternal fear for I feared my hero
The Dead Angel in my mind
Why does silence have to make so much damn noise
I hear nothing but the beat of my lonely heart and voices
The voices are not mine, nor anyone that I know of poise
But the voices are from the other side using me as their toy
I feel my mind and my soul get shoved to the side
I find my guardian angel dead on the floor of my mind
The things that killed it are the same that are killing me
The voices in my head are overrunning my kind
I hear a faint noise that I know all too well
As the circus of my angel lays lonely with a broken heart
The voice is that of my first love, the voice is that that is killing me
The deafening tones of silence paired with the dagger of my first love
It is this "heroin" that once loved me that is killing my current love
It is this demonizing soul that is tormenting my heart to stop beating
For now is the time of the resurrection of these thoughts
As my heart remembers all too well of the dead angel on the floor
The blood from my angel runs truly in my veins
I feel its last moments in my heart that has stopped beating
My first love has succeeded in destroying all others
For the dead Angel on the floor is really a silent me
The Prism of Almighty returns home
Capturing the sunlight in his prism
The chosen one absorbs the pain
For he is out to unleash the fury
As the sunlight gives him power to reign
The prism came from the hands of the wary
The hands were those of the fallen angel
Shunned from light as he had no use
For the crystal that would help him return to dwell
Words spread fast like the wind from a cave
The words were in the ancient language of Brata
For this language was formally used to convey
As the lord and his angels knew the only words to say
As the message came through across heaven’s gate
The Angels of light spread their wings with haste
For now is the time to defend our race
As the dark one breathes with tremendous hate
The prism alive now filled with the power of light
The chosen one arriving with a hellish delight
Accompanied by those with no souls and fear
The winged warriors waiting for the coming of the near
The ghouls with their eyes no longer alive
Seek to destroy the demise of the flighting hive
The hive filled with beams of light to destroy
As the prism was raised to absorb the contours
As the light hit the crystal a shining did occur
The ghouls now had eyes along with wings of glamour
Now the ghouls have wings high as might
Now the ghouls turn to angels to fight for right
Chosen one now set eyes upon the formal of the many
He cries as his knees pound to the ground as though wary
The prism now back in the hands of almighty
Banished back to hell with his master now so tiny
The Death Of Our Maker
Crime scene investigators were searching in every corner
Looking for that last piece of evidence to convict
All that was found in the dark room with no furniture
Was a lightless halo, few feathers, and blood as though pricked
“Situation not too good” said the chief investigator
I cannot explain where this all came from as we need
Whose blood is this on the cold linoleum floor?
If it is the blood of the holy one why does he bleed?
The bounty hunter now with a new assignment
To find the one who killed the creator
Situation has arisen from the west he felt through his senses
That the killer is still lurking better known as the new maker
The lonely hunter trailing the wanted again feels this curse
From the south it came as though trailed on a hearse
Except this time the hunter was being hunted from the abyss
As a horn rose up high as fire erupted slitting his wrist
The new creator stood above the hunters decaying body
Life now ejected from his eyes blackened out with light
Before the hunter could lock eyes on the murderer so holy
A voice struck from the darkened room where he lay lonely
The voice was that of himself as he saw a reflection in the mirror
“Who is the killer of the creator and soon to be me” he stated
As the mirror opened up revealing the new maker he startled
Their eyes met and he saw the lightless halo, few feathers and his blood
His blood dripping from the hands of the wingless angel of the dark
The hunters eyes closed ever so slowly in pure disbelief of what he saw
The murderer of the creator of life was his right hand man who beckoned as his
call
The murderer sought revenge on his creator
..the murderer was Lucifer
ytirucesnI
How do you measure insecurity?
Based on other peoples mind?
OR based on your past experience
Why do you care what I think?
Why do you spell insecurity as Y-O-U
Forever calm is the person who knew
Your ever charm is a lack that you spew
Insecurity invokes unhappiness with us
But maybe I am the insecure one by saying this
Maybe it is I who is truly insecure
By caring what you think
By saving the last drink
For none other than my thirsty ego
I know it is not me because why?
Let me rephrase this so you can see
I am not insecure, because I know me
Faith of a Follower
Pondering, to ponder to much usually results in idle hands
Why question things so many times
Why can’t we as humans accept that we are here by accident
I would doubt if a magical man in a robe sprinkled fairy dust
!Poof! Let there be light!
Six degrees of separation connect us all, so they say
Well if we were 1 degree closer to the sun….
Would we maybe have 3 eyes? Maybe a life with no despise?
Forget about it….
Again stop your torture of trying to find answers and just be
Pretty soon we all die, so why worry about uncontrollable things
If it helps to create magic in our minds to ease our minds of death
Lets create other magical items….
How about a pink fairy that takes pain away when loved ones die
What about the angel of light to submit to when we coincide
How about a Looney Tune called bugs bunny to pray to,
At least we can see him
Put your faith in what you can see…
Put your faith in nothing….
And be…
Status of the Lonely
I see you looking around the room hoping someone will notice your Gucci watch
I see you checking yourself in the mirror to make sure your pearls are straight
I also see you as a lonely soul who has no idea how to please your mind
Other than buying expensive items to bring your status to acceptance
What you don’t realize is you are the fool that avoids reality
By purchasing the fluff in life to balance your lack of being
All the glitter in the world cannot produce who you really want to be
Take your uncertainness, your warped view on life, your high hill living
And stash it in the trunk of your Rolls Royce and wait for someone like you
You may have to wait a while as you still will not accept their friendship
For they may not have what you are looking for, they may be so 2005
When you find yourself surrounded by these warped fake individuals
It will be too late, for the world would have moved on without you
Father time will show everyone what you are consisted of
For now will be the time of your resurrection into the reality of being
Either you take the opportunity to figure it out and grow up
Or stay behind and enjoy the company of shadows that are cast by your wounds
As true being is not what you are, but who you are
I guess you have not come to your conclusion yet
I guess you are so 2005
Just let me be ME
Why cant you look deeper than the surface of things
Is it that hard to see what I really do for you?
Why do you constantly choose to see things from the top?
Instead can't you see what I really do to
99 The Assassination of Dark Poetry Page 12
