Dangerous Territory

I’ve been swimming in the deep end lately.

My head is spinning in circles.

My heart had never been so hollow on the inside.

I need to catch my breath before I do anything else stupid.


My work of art is an escape from uniformity.

I felt safe with you for the time being.

At the end of the week, you cuddled me

When the sergeant had an off day at work and took it out on me.


I let you in like I did when I meet new people.

You were happy for me when I told you I finally found love.

I wanted nothing more than a friend’s reassurance that everything will be okay.

But you in particular were a land mine waiting to explode.


It’s dangerous territory where you’re from as a queer.

It’s dangerous territory where I lurk on the web.

It’s dangerous territory to build a world without receiving adequate training.

It’s dangerous territory to make friends with volatile people like you.


I can barely read script in Delphi without misinterpreting some if not most of its passages.

My art isn’t like what you’d expect to see in other do-it-yourself or high-profile projects.

The way I write, the way I archive, and the way I distribute information is my strongest suit.

There is no way I can fulfill my goal in life alone without the help of a team that knows its stuff.


You didn’t have to sugarcoat your advice to fix my problems

But you didn’t have to pull more than my teeth either.

You spoke to me as if I had to know every damn trick in the book.

You pointed out where I went wrong as if I didn’t already understand it.


I would have welcomed your advice if you watched your language.

I would have been more considerate if we joined forces as planned.

But being friendly with you in light of this is just out of question.

You can say that I’m high all you want, but it goes to show that you’re smaller than you think.


It’s dangerous territory where you’re from as a queer.

It’s dangerous territory where I lurk on the web.

It’s dangerous territory to build a world without receiving adequate training.

It’s dangerous territory to make friends with volatile people like you.


A vagabond told me this morning that I don’t learn much from success

And boy, I sure did learn a lot about your character more than what it takes to be top dog.

I might also let it slip that you exploded in my face because your little rant was all over the place.

In that case, riddle me this, who among the two of us really needs room for improvement?

The Worst of A Savage

I feel like I'm getting cut off the chord

Another guy's cheating on his girlfriend while he's bored

Lies to his good friend and runs off again anew

Leaves his friend to the wolves and what is true


To lie and kiss when you belonged to another
To take away a poor soul's virginity and have a 10th lover

All of this and more at once

Consecutively deceiving and ongoing months


I wonder just what is your problem?

To steal so many hearts and trap a robin

And feed the sickness to the sea of insanity

Starting another storm and change the skies to calamity


To taint another's love

and slit the throat of a peaceful dove

You set a storm in the deepest of hearts

and set wounds inside the most delicate parts

When will you ever seem to care or learn

Until the harsh fire inside of you ceases to burn


To turn yet another to stone

and eat the flesh and leave bare bone

Laying in the shadows waiting for the next poor soul to ravage

Clearly you fit the name, the worst of a savage




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The Civilized Man

Lost Treasures

'The Civilized Man'

Who are these people? These strange faces surrounding me and my god they are closing in on me, going in for the kill. They want to tear the flesh from my bones and feast on my brains. Zombies, everyone of you. Insanity; the world is drowning in it and the lifeguard is off duty. Our outcome is bleak. It's tunnel vision on steroids with an ego to boot. Theses faces who can only focus on what is placed before them. There must be some, who like me feel so impacted by the sheer lunacy of their chaos chose sedation over a revolt of the whole damned system.
It is a joke, a mockery and we believe the dream within the dream, that ultimate illusion known as 'this reality'. We invest so much into this mad circus we quickly lose sight of what is real. Our minds trapped to old dogmas, with an ever closing narrow mindedness. A bigotry all our own.
You claim to be the civilized man. You want me to believe that you are guided by some higher sense of morality. You tell me that because you can break the genome, you are somehow educated. So once again you claim to be a man, when your actions reveal you to be Monsters, hypocrites, liars, thieves, killers, animals who act with malice and hate. Murders for pleasure, and you decry to me that we can be saved? For those who promote salvation find themselves damned and forsaken.
Those who shout for love and peace find their pleas fall on deaf ears. Its strange that violence has become the norm and those in opposition find themselves abandoned by the machine that is our “Freedom”. A civilized man would not need a master, but then again you are not a civilized man, but a savage in paradise, for the world becomes your hunting grounds.

'The God Within'

There is a man stalking the woods, hunting for his prey. As he enters into a clearing he spots his victim. Quietly he takes aim, then he advances and tonight this man will eat.
The trees lush with foliage, a gentle summer breeze. It is the calm before the storm, the silence before the chaos. When the sun hides, wicked men will play. Without faith, despair destroys courage.
I am man, I am human. I breath therefor I live. I feel so therefor I experience, and I know, I am self aware. Intelligent enough to know my conscious thoughts and subconscious mind. I also understand I cannot begin to fathom the workings of which yet becomes a gauge for our own morality. No matter how tight you make the collar, no other man's laws shall ever speak louder than your own convictions. Where your body becomes your own temple. Your mind and thoughts while not unique to the subconsciousness, they are your own and shall never be manipulated without your consent.
Evil exists within us all, a potential to sin and easy to harbor negativity. We have all stared into the black part of our soul to either embrace it or at the very least understand it. Our consciousness, our soul, that little voice inside your head that tells you that what you are doing is wrong. However with love there must be hate, a duality equally shared within you on the quantum level. For if there is evil in you there is also something good. It is through our choice of actions, that we manifest our reality. Knowledge becomes our key, to understanding a brain so complex that we only use a fraction of it. Forgotten and lost is our ability to tap into such a powerful part of ourselves.

The possibilities become endless, yet we still lack the very understanding of such a gift. Time and time again we gain a brief glance at the potential for such feats and marvels, When few people are able to unlock parts of their brains producing astounding works of art, or solving almost impossible complex mathematical codes.

“We all hold the key to enlightenment within our minds,
and retaining that blissful ignorance is still just an Illusion.
Where knowledge becomes the voice of truth, as I follow in the
steps of Odin, seeking answers to the mystery of all this.
Not of life or death, but the answer to my question.
If reality is that which I perceive it to be.
When will we awake from this lustrous dream?”

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is from Chapter 7 of my book "Damien's Lost Scripts" I hope you all enjoy this piece. I had a very difficult time in this piece, as Im sure it will show in flow of reading it... Finding the right words were quite difficult, and if this is any indication of how future pieces will go then I really am in for a hell of a ride.

Carmen's Sorrow


Lost in a wave of confusion, he stood, still gripping the crossbow tight as blood trickled down his arm in escape from the madness. Dizzy and weak, he could only gaze around at the dying chaos. Old faces, strange faces, those who'd become the mindless savage, all dying slowly, starving out; finally giving into the death that once drove them. Familiar buildings, Familiar streets, echoed the last cries of those who suffered the second death. Eyes that lost their soul seemingly long ago now closed forever, losing whatever light may have remained. He closed his own eyes.

Who has suffered the worse fate?

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