My Tears 2011

The blood rains down in heavy splatters, frustration storms my Highway
Faking smiles to the world, To conceal the madness rotting me
As the storm clouds gather, As I slay the wishful dreams

The blood swirls into settling puddles, rage screaming from silent lungs
Fake joyfulness to fool the world, Conceal my weeping heart
Letting the times of us fade, Allowing the love to grow old

The tear drops on my Bal'dons are the heaven's
The tears are from us, Never surrendering completely to love
Just dancing in the death, destruction is melody that I sing

The blood drops stain my blades and I am filthy from heartache
Crooked mask, peeking out at the world from a false hood
Hiding in the shadows, playing my heart's game closed eye
I swirl to a rest, A breathing statue in the middle of tortured fallen art

My smirk of insanity stains my world, Begging for attention
For the woman that set me straight, For the one that keep me here and sane
The tear drops on my Bal'dons are the faded lover

The tears of a fool speaking truth through self hatred
Just dancing in my wicked garden of slain art
Frozen Horrors of Lust, An Artist in many forms as the Blades speak

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Dancing with Snow 2011

Missing the words that use to chill my worlds
Longing for the dancing fingertips
That belong to the one woman that reached
Into this blueberry-tea red haze clogging me

I watch the snowflakes dance all around
I stand on this Highway, intoxicated in the memoirs
Deep into these chilling ice fragments
Falling into the tears coming down onto me

My world freezing them against my flesh
Creaking the armor as I move, pulling the Bal'dons
In this fiery anger, all I know how to do is make ashes
In times when I had that one soul that could tame me

Now I feel left drained of the peace of man I was
The calm monk I once was, the man without the raging beast
On this Highway there is no one for stretches of long gauntlets
All I am is one blacken snowflake dancing Shay'Tana's claim

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Tasting the Venom

Wulfman Adventures

This anger makes me shake and grit my teeth
I don't know what the hell it is brewing
Whatever it is, it is slaying my peace
Inside I am a fading man of the former shell

Ooooh, so far away from myself that I am lost
Tearing away what I wanted to be
All that I was is lost in this transition of change
I am so far away from myself I fever

Shiver with the venom, drink the poison
This beast that is rampaging within
Grinding my pearls, mashing my tongue
Bleeding my heart of the love I gathered
What is this new intoxication with anger?

Oohhh, gritting my teeth til my gums bleed
My head shakes of the boiling rage
Destruction is all that computes in my sicken mind
I am too far away to see that I am being insane
Destroying myself as I sink in this venom

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Reflections i

Wulfman Adventures

The bathroom mirror is a lightning storm
of my own insanity.
Between the lightning bolt like cracks,
there is a black widow of sinned sense
spinning a web of truth.
Me, myself, and I.
I am a shattered self wrapped
in a webbed cocoon.


Windows of reflections suffer from my abuse
because I don't like the truth they tell.
All my problems and faults
look back to me from my own eyes.
All that is, all that was, all that has... it was me. The mirrors and I are the same.


The man in the mirror dislikes me
hence I dislike him the same.
'til one morn' we are silent,
who is what? - what is who?
Though in his eyes I see the man
that once lived and he sees the man he is becoming.
Our silence is one of feared
appetence of what we are.


In an angry blow
I break the mirror with a grin
of bliss from insanity.
In each flying shard
is a reflection of me screaming out its storey.
As the shards come to rest
my grin turns into a laughing fit
of a madden man.

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It comes to me on wings of fire,
This demon known as rage,
Burning me from the inside out,
During the internal battle that I wage.


Its foul claws twist my thoughts,
Its darkness blinding my eyes,
Leaving me with tunnel vision,
As my controll slowly dies.


My body starts to tremble,
Blood laced with adrinal power,
Wanting one thing above all else,
For my enemy to suffer and cower.


Bordering on hatred,
The feeling is addictive and strong,
Sometimes justified,
Though most of times wrong.

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My demise

Dystopian love cascading tears of chrome and crimson lies,
Cutting and cussing my way through the harder parts of life,
Managing to only get by on faking it and biding my time,
Until the pain takes over and I meet my demise.

Quieting Rage

When children bear pain
Absent defenders sought
But wanting births monstrous rage

Haiku will not do
Will not lend voice to such rage
Will not give life to such creatures
As needed to right the wrongs
And heal the deep burning wounds

Yet sonnets are lovely, perhaps it seems
Melancholy songs of burdening woe
But inky scratch on torn paper is mean
Befit the crime but a sonnet? oh no

There are but words
Of hate and violence
Of revenge and justice

(Vengeance is mine)

There are cries for grace
Pleas for peace

(It is finished)

Does this child bear pain
Does this victim seek advocates

(My burden is light)

I cannot carry, my back has grown weak
I struggle to lift leg after leg

(Decrease, I’ll increase)

What victim remains
When all justice is poured
And all mercy portioned out
And all that’s left is my own pride

(Pride goes before a fall)

And thus the greatest adversary of all

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Gettin' Angry


You get mad at me

When don’t like me

My words are too harsh

Like a bombs coming from me


You get mad at me

When you don’t like what I do

I know I’m right

Convince me it isn’t true


You get mad at me

When my temper flares

I’ve got my reasons

And you have no cares


You get mad at me

When I tell you what’s wrong

You don’t want to hear it

Same ole dance and song


You get mad at me

When my frustration mounts

And like Tigger

I’m getting ready to bounce


You get mad at me

When I pack up to go

In your mind I shouldn’t leave

Because in your mind you know


That you get mad at me

Mostly for no reason

You just need a punching bag

You don’t require a liaison



Written on

June 15, 2007

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This was written to Paul. Him and I did have our arguments. And we did make up. We just argued because I didnt understand his Closed Head Injury. Well I do know, because I have one.

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Heaviest sack

Today I find
my anger berates me
I speak to my friend and
think that he hates me

losing my compass
I keep trying to fix it
but find disappointment

Now I don't even want to write
It seems to me I've lost my sight

I no longer feel the wind...
in my sails

He makes me feel that I'm unworthy...
yet I continue to try...
to be in it...
to stick with it...
for the friendship

I know these things he says are true...
to some degree...
I am stuck...
in this same spot...
my baggage...
too heavy...
to move on...

yet I keep packing...

I have to unpack!
it's too hard on my back!
and I really don't want
a bigger sack...

I want to let it go...
the process is sooo slow...

Little by little
I throw things away...
yet there's always more
to put in their place

I keep finding the items
I thought I got rid of...
as soon as I do I pick them up....
I observe them...
and back in the sack they go...

damn it, it's heavy...

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