- A Lifelong Slumber
To sleepwalk one thousand lifetimes and beyond
The stillborn catatonic and adrift, ill prepared to row
Never to reach the shores of dawn
Cataracts on swollen eyes, ever so wide shut
Aimless Societies of samsara
We comatose creatures dream as one
A Life long Slumber
- Aggressors Clothed as Victims
To pass through the eye of their needle and arrive at some gate of reward
To live at odds with the truth - blinkered, bound and gagged
To rest, work and play inside the barricades and facades
Forever under watchful eyes
Inside the straight and the narrow, ceremonies of opposites
No slim pickings for aggressors clothed as victims
- All Roads Lead to Perdition
Wretched souls intrinsically bound to the grindstone
complacency toils away
chain gangs on the ever expanding miserable topography
economic prisons rise in the blink of an eye
tethered one and all
paving the black rivers that lead to a collective decline
Failing the very thing that nurtures survival
- Between Apes and Angels
Collective schism
Lost upon the aquarius trails
Alarm bells toll, duly
Ringing deaf to the modern ear
Prisoners to each our own cage of bones
Handicapped in this responsive universe
- Embittered
Soured by the years of systematic denial
Embittered to the rotted core
Perils of the mirror bane conspires
A soul's deprivation disrobed
The very front that saves enslaves
Content to bathe in wretchedness
Self negligent to breaking points
Perpetuate the preferred state of duress
- Prolong this Agony
Leave it up to me
To prolong this agony
It happens automatically
Leave it up to me
Six years in the eye of my storm
And you feel this total lack of self restraint
Come full circle once again
- Seven Sisters of Sleep
The sweetest of wakeful dreams
True gifts received from the seven sisters of sleep
For what each make haste to awaken the depth in thee
Open floodgates of subconscious reverie we have always been
Assuage our desire for each in turn
In intoxicated bliss seven times we burn….
Votaries of the vixen Virginia bear not to be without her brown gold touch
- The Most Subtle of Storms
Fear cultivation through the centuries
Grip what denial compels
Caught unaware for ever more
Proud distractions to ourselves
Building high our house of cards
Foundations laid on shifting sands Hold on tight and loathe all change
To this the most subtle of storms
- Wailing My Keen
Crushing weight of fear bury me
Five stories below, enfeebled and bleak
Tethered to this dirge in my dreams
Up above their wailing my keen
Discord unresolved
Disquiet to sense their grieving
As helpless as a new born
- Wooden Kimono Fixative
Like the hungry ghosts that haunt this rotten soil
Insatiable appetites for the impossible
Raped, defiled and plundered her abundance in spades
The detritus of a failed landscape remains
In the throes of an inherent annihilation
Atrabilious to the very marrow