In Time

I will yet see the sun shine;

I don’t know when,

but someday soon my dreams

will be mine; it’s all just a matter of time.

a matter of time; I’ll have paid for my crimes,

then I’ll be just fine, in a matter of time.


I’ll never be the same person I am today

ever again, this is the end of him,

I know in the end who I truly am,

I know who are my friends – to those I’ve hurt

I make amends, I’ll never be the same person again,

no never… ever be the same person again.


The stark reality of a lost path,

consciousness of morality lost,

everybody counts the cost!

But this path, it too shall pass,

you will live to tell the tale

of how your future became the past


and here you are at long last;

you’re future has become the the past…

here you are at long last….

here you… are…


I will yet see the sun shine;

I don’t know when,

but someday soon my dreams

will be mine; it’s all just a matter of time.

a matter of time; I’ll have paid for my crimes,

then I’ll be just fine, in a matter of time.



Mental Break

Uh. Hi there.

How are you today?


I’m fine – mind helping me out of your mind?

I’ seem to have myself lost in your thoughts.

It’s been lovely seeing how you see life…

But I’m ready now… ready to go…


You’re personality is perched on your perspective

high and lofty – making long winded speeches –

lacking intuition – try to say something relative…


My skin feels like its crawling with leeches,

and there’s another voice in my head trying to

to tell me to show him the way out.


That’s just me chiseling away your muse,

I’ve planted my mind bombs,

by the time you have them defused…

I’ll be long gone.




It’s hard to see what’s coming…

When you can’t even walk the path you’re on.

And not for a lack of trying,

some things take time; A lot of time

– gota keep paying in time…


In time… In time… in time…

‘Till there’s nothing left

’till you’re broke and dime-less

’till you’ve choked on your last breath

unless… unless… unless….


You truly believe all the pain you posses –

All your hatred can be harnessed;

To tell your story! – and at last for all to witness;

You live… you live… you live! And you live with purpose!

The Trip

The end of yourself

is the beginning of understanding.


Under stand :

It is not hard to see you;

when your world is so small.


One day it wont be like this.

There will be no more men in the walls.

I’ll be free to be myself;

actually learn who that is!


What is the point little eye?

Beep beep!  life support go.

All that I have failed in the first attempt!

There will be success one day.

Today is just not that day.


I got to remember – no one taught me normal.

Guess I like learning the hard way.

At least – in the end – I will have my story.

I will share my journey – maybe Ill save someone

the trip.

On the Wings of Eagles

If this the death of me,

let it come.

Come wittiness me die.

All who wish to see;



You shall see me fall,

and burn .


Your justice served!

Your mind at ease.

He’s just another mans ashes

scattered to the breeze.


Nothing no more;

and yet nothing no less.

nothing expected from nothing-ness

nothing more no – yet nothing no less.

For you think I’m a mortal man just made of flesh;

lost and spiritless.


Yes. I am a man, made of flesh

a man of mortal sin!

I have died a thousand deaths!

and yet

I’ve been reborn a thousand times!


And I will  die yet again!

and once again I will rise!

And once again be reborn!


Better than you ever Knew me…


To say it simple;

You don’t know me.

You’ve never known me;


And as a phoenix rises from the ashes

I will do you one better!

And rise like an eagle;

floating on the breath of God;

beneath my wings.


To your demise you will realize

I am last;

Flesh-less and spirit filled;

unbound by flesh – by my words I stand!


I am timeless.






Dinner and a Show

Rambling gibberish to humming wishes,
A symphony of frogs prepare a vile dish.

Hell paints it’s self-pink with girlie glitter,
To torture a quitter who believed he was fitter.

Fairy tales are pure evil and breed badness.
For evil is innocence and ignorance, making madness.

Slow cooked, honey-ginger ribs make a lovely meal.
Since when does smacking on bone and flesh not appeal?

Humming wishes to rambling gibberish,
A vile dish presents a symphony of frogs

Trudging In The Muck

close the eyes to the noise
keep on walking, past the doors
that muffle broken cries
stare not into the sky
nor the dirt where the worms crawl
for the expanse over head sings of bleakness
and the dirt murmurs death

Ignore the broken shards of being
the pain subsides in time
In time there will be brighter days
The sky will once again rain down hope
and the dirt will again be a welcome comfort

now the hard part is calling down heaven
and making the choice to stand
against a screaming world.
the hard part is re-creation
in the heart of self destruction
to pull oneself
from everything that tugs at the heart
and to say “no more”