I feel like a candle
Lit from within the wick You’ll find my fire reaching out Clawing against a waxy shell Looking for room to breathe And to dance upon a timely day I often envy those whom quickly burn From their heads and their feet Both ends is a pretty effective way If you’re hoping for people to see But for all candles it ends the same; The curse of fire will never fail However bright we’ll just fall. One puddle, made of wax And just before that you find As it breaks through its casing That these flickers were practice Learning to burn what I’m facing You’ll behold grandiose performance Built with fire, intrigue and woe Maybe you’ll figure out why I did it Or maybe I’m telling you now Through that wax you can’t hear much But -I- hear the flickers, all at once And sometimes – they find voice I feel like a candle lit from within the wick Until you come find me melting You wouldn’t even know I’m sick
————————————————————————- This one is intended to be somewhat experimental from me because as anyone who’s read the rest of these posts so far know, I really like rhyming conventions – so I tried to break away from that, not completely divorce myself from it as can be seen, but just try to structure the rhythm a little differently.
Spent my life diggin’ holes
In search of buried treasure Or maybe a tunnel to China? Just something I could measure Maybe a few too many A new one every day Finding a new spot to dig Just again to walk away Sometimes I hit bedrock ’cause I’d try to dig too deep pushing through the dirt When I should be asleep Still no tunnel to a better life lyin’ somewhere beneath the ground but it’s not all wasted time There are yet a few things I found A shiny locket A little spring A forgotten coin What even is this thing? So I guess not really much Has been added to my wealth Maybe it’s just been for the fun of it? Is that what it is to find yourself? Turns out you won’t find much movin’ dirt You’ll mostly get it in your face And you’ll surely wear yourself out Tryin’ to keep up at someone’s pace But there are worse ways to spend your life Hey, it’s good enough for the moles At least there’s a lot of room to grow If you have a garden full of holes
A split mind is a lonely problem
Not much different from clouded lenses But it obscures far more views And doesn’t stop at the senses The tall man broke in to my house again Right when I was about to think He came for blood this time He just wanted me to drink I cleaned up that gory scene Of the beloved cadavers in the den The bodies were clogging the chimney But that was now and this is then What will I do tonight With the thoughts keeping me up Wrestling that faceless intruder I’m unable to disrupt Another night finding the flaws Trying to play mind detective Scouring for gaps in search of delusion To find which me is defective I’ll make an appointment now To see the actors in the day While they go through their motions Putting on their play Keep up with the professional strangers They’ve got a new message to sell No one will teach you how to drive this thing But boy, you better do it well How will they know our silent rage Will you cut us open and count our rings? Not worth trying to understand Really it’s just one of those things Like the windows of cathedrals A shattered brain could build something new Breathtaking images in with broken glass Loosely held together by glue You know what? forget it for now We’ll have problems twice the size Just hold me ’til the world gets brighter And these demons leave my eyes
Dogma can be found in words
Often thin as a page But Sacred to those who believe In the wars they wage Collections of long forgotten rhymes Lost rythms of joyous spring Heavy notes of darker times Candles flickered out in the endless night But new tales keep being written New songs continue to be sung New hearts endlessly smitten New pains constantly stung The story true of human beings Greater than any of our own Our fellow us lost in eternity Carefully bound between flesh and bone [break] Dogma can be found in words But divinity is found in us Sacred is the story heard Heinous is the turned eye Not much is surely hallowed Stories, art, they seem to be Holding people as just the same Sacred is what we see So sacred to me So sacred as you
Remember the day that you died
And realize how you lived By cherishing each tick of clock’s hand And all the hurt that it may bring Because the silence of winter’s stand Is why it’s so good when spring sings By grasping all whom you love And showing all those you may That their warmth brought your need to leave So you demanded that you’d stay By embracing the venom in your veins Like sweet wine the summer sends Eyes brightened by the taste of the moment With no regard for how the party ends You made love to your mortality Like a girl that’s way out of your league Savoring every moment of her favor Because you already knew she’s gonna leave So If you’re just dust in the wind Then gather a storm Let your winds tear open your comfort Because you’ve no time to mourn If you’re but a candle to be consumed by the dark Then let that light grow to swallow it whole push the threat of the cold to the horizon And color it with the splendor of your soul If you’re a spark in a furnace Then listen to the rhythm of hammer swings Accepting the blessing of unbearable heat So you can be forged from terrible things If you’re a memory to be forgotten Let it be one of passion and rage Rampaging through time like a heckled actor Betrayed by the very promise of your stage Dance across the unlit sky Leave your footprints between the stars And burn your name in to eternity Painting the heavens with your scars The flaw of the immortal is mediocrity With no need to act for lack of an end Everything to see and nothing to fear Is just having no message to send Plant a kiss on the jaws of death Thanking them for the chance to prove That competing against certain defeat Can be the perfect reason to move Fight with one determination To move from the ledge and instead You’ll just take a different leap And if you don’t, then you’re already dead
The natural order is our jail.
Stuck somewhere in time and space On a lowly forward monorail; Just caught up in another race To hear the cry of a soul A thousand years after conception Is to learn we have a tool To reach beyond our perception To separate ourselves from cattle We make music from our brays The stage of our greatest battle Is the same as our grandest plays Creating is our weapon It’s how we win the fight How we reach passed heaven And avoid that good night Art is our grand defiance Not against man but fate Without we sit in compliance Of our inevitable state Show the future your reflection, So far away they may learn That we swore rejection Of fate trapped in urn Write down and savor Some tales of great valor To make a world braver In the face of great power Send out your lore! Pass down your pain! They’ll hear your roar Long after you’re slain In defiance of time Share with the rest Your love of rhyme Your worst and best Be proud of your revolt In a way it’s all you got It’s the only record they’ll consult Showing how hard you fought For those yet blinded by cage Do you yet hold rebellion? Have you quelled your mortal rage? When will it finally be enough? Do you hate the songs of the morning birds Because they wake you up?