X00 Caliber.

Tenderness, aching, ambitious.
The double-edged sword.
Arthur's birthright.

Tomorrow is the Spanish Inquisition.
The great tirade.
The grand torture beneath the terminals
Seeds have been spilt.
Oceans emptied.

Tomorrow marks the day of wrath.
Bitter, sour, distressed.
The brightness of day eclipses the darkness of shadow.

Shadow so essential.
A shadow so dire.
Obligatory, quintessential.

Today I sit alone again.
Sword in earth's heart.

Tomorrow she will bleed to death.
Mother Earth.
She will flow volcanic rivers.
Birth a bastard nation.
A simple, lonely nation.

God help it.
God abort it.

She knows not goodness.
Only the cries of a hungry child.
They must be nourished.
Worshipped.
They must be saved according to Guinevere's last will and testament.

Post war.

Please believe me
The curse of the violent shadows reawakens.

The inner demons will run rampant and the god star will breathe life into the eternal.

Waves of elemental magic beseech the crimson crown of the terrestrial wasteland.

God of war, son of god, Father of fear.

The world bleeds blue.
God bleeds yellow.

A Madness: Part 2

The tragic life of a dreamer.
Faust would be proud.

Today the glimmering solemn midnight jolted with eloquent veracity.
The poet saw.
The poet too wrote.
"Oh myriad skies,
a shallow grave you dig for me.
Atop a tombstone with etched goodbyes.
A half dug grave unseen by man.
A wooden coffin.
Rather just a tree.
A time trapped prison.
A master plan.
A perfect future only god can see"

The devil deals in rotten fate.
Expired promises, important dates.
The time of day, one can say is under the spell of our own hell.

The tree of life provides shade.
Life only has one escape.
Escape can be tricky.
Make a plan, or serve your sentence.

Procrastination is now a virtue.

A Madness: Part 1

The taste of consequence severe.
I've leaped again into the same dark waters. If repetition is the definition of insanity then surely I am mad.

But nature too is lunatic.
Yes, a mad god made this twisted earth. 

A mad god caught in a loop. 

A mad god, a broken record.
A line crossed. Never crossed before.

I am bound by cruel nature.

It is clear to me now.  
Mad, cruel, twisted nature.
A mad, cruel, god's lunatic punchline.

unbound.
static, static, static, static.

Putrid, solemn, lazy, Walrus

("Deterred by warmth and affection")
The frozen ocean waits for you.
Beneath a sky so frozen blue.
A cryogenic cell of ice.
A crystal palace to be precise.

The fatty skin will keep you warm.
But of this aspect I must warn.
A horrid sight you are to be.
A monstrous walrus is what they'll see.

Two jagged fangs grow from your jaw.
Three padded flippers instead of claws.
The whiskers will be long and spiny
And your brain and eyes, tiny.

A grotesque howl you will emit.
Lets not forget you'll smell of shit.
Oh, walrus: fat and slow.
You are indeed the king of snow.
But at least the pain of love you'll never know.

The Waring Graves.

How miraculous.
Heaven's exposé.
Why, muttering seems second nature.
Yet laughter comes first.

Baser feelings amidst a longer exposure. Human platitudes like love and unity whither like dried leaves.
Only to be born again when harsh times are past.

The waring graves.
The dead unaware they are dead.
The fighting at a standstill.
The coldness persists.
Space and time decide your fate.
How futile it is.
How futile to think you are alive in the long run of things.
How hopeful we are.

Moloko vellocet

Walk against time,
Consumed elixir of the mind.

Velvet, morose and nonsensical.
The corded arithmetical pondering of beating hearts.
Throbbed ventricle expounded.
Glass in the eye. Sweets in the queue.

Breasts.
Sensual, conditioned.
The warmth of company.
Fear: not withstanding.
Overbearing.
Confusing.
Conflicted but warm all the same.

A warmer smile.
Felt at a distance.
Like an arrow
Cherub archers.
Child soldiers.
God's very own .

This is the way my day ends.
Not with a bang but with a whimper.