All the Monsters

September 4, 2011

Cold heart forgotten in shadows.
A frozen soul, a poisoned breath.
A cancer that grows through your veins.
The leaf that falls. The tree that dies.
The wind that howls and an ocean that stings.
A raging dance, a tornado of emotion.
All the souls sing… Mine is quiet.
An orchestra of screeching death.
The rumbling stomach of the Earth.
It’s heart beats slower as the light from the sun dies.
The souls bark at me, like wild dogs.
I am Silent.
No words protrude my lips.
Cold winter silences the others. We can sleep now.
All the monsters are gone.

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Darkness of the Unknown

December 20, 2010

O death, where is thy sting? O grave where is thy victory?
(1 Corinthians 15:55)

Men fear Death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. ~Francis Bacon, Essays

“I wont ever be what you want me to be.”
“You’re not human. You will never be a human. Lord of the Darkness. Destroyer of Worlds.”
“No. I am human. You know why? I may not be able to dream and you can say I don’t have a soul. But I that’s not what makes someone human.”
“Oh,” says the darkness that haunts me “What makes you a human?”
“The ability to look back at things in life, the ability to see situations and wonder. Wonder, what if? What if you’d hadn’t said or done something. Regret. That’s how I know I’m human, how I know I have a soul. And you can say I’m not a human. That I’m this monster, this lord of the darkness. But I will never, NEVER be what you want me to be!”
“Hmm.” The stitched faced being says to me. Scratching his face.
We stand in the centre of tar road. Willow trees line the streets side. There are no stars, no moon, it is complete darkness but some soft light from a lamp post.
“What is a monster?” asks the being. “Humans are close. They kill for fun. Butcher innocents. But you. You are less then they. You cannot dream. You are my son. Born in darkness. Others are born in the light. Or some at night. You see, some say that darkness doesn’t exist. That there is light. And absence of light. This isn’t true. There is light. Absence of light, and us. And you can feel it. Feel it grow.”
I feel it.
I feel an evil overcoming power inside me. I feel the intense darkness. I feel it grow inside me.
“No!” I scream. “I will NEVER be what you want me to be!”
The creature moves towards me, truly not of this world.
His face is close to me, I feel his breathing, like death had turned into air. I feel the cold of it touch my skin, I feel it’s cold sting, I feel death. I stare into the white pits of his eyes. Though they are complete white I feel the dark. I can see it. Unexplainable the darkness within his soul. This creature. My creator. My father…
“I. Will not. I wont.”
He smiles. I feel his grin in my heart. I feel it like a dagger.
“You cannot outrun fate.” He whispers. The cold stench of death on his breath stings my face. “You cannot out run death,” he hisses. “You cannot outrun ME.” He groans.
His rough charcoal burnt arm reaches out. Entering my stomach I feel a squeeze. My eyes widen in fear and pain.
“You were right.” He chuckles. “You did have a soul. But, I destroyed it. I’m very disappointed in you son.” He says.
He removes his arm. I feel my life fleeing from me like air escaping from a balloon.
He begins to walk away, up the road. Into the thickest of the dark. Tears drain from my eyes, I try to scream, try to beg, the life dies, and all I feel is fear.
He turns his neck, I cannot see his face.
“You could… always change your mind?”
“Fuck… you.” I whisper.
“Hmm, so be it.” He says and walks off, vanishing from my view.
I feel the last of my life existing my body, I feel cold and lose all feeling. The thoughts from my mind become muddled. I lose focus and feel my face plough into the pavement. It doesn’t hurt. And slowly all becomes fuzzy. The last thing I hear is the slow, rhythmic breathing of the creature from the darkness. Death.

‘What If?’

November 3, 2010

The cold concrete steps beneath me as I sit, watching the passers by.
My train has not arrived yet.
She walks down the stairs across the platform with her friend.
Her blonde hairs falls from her head, lush and graceful.
She tries to walk across the platform and I smile. She cannot walk in heels.
She looks at me and we smile at each other.
I continue to sit as a cool breeze blows against my neck.
I remove my hat and shuffle my hands through my hair. The breeze is nice.
I pull my phone out and inspect the time.
There is still time.
Still time until my train arrives.
I glance over at the girls, I see them glance back and giggle.
I smile to myself and change the song on my iPod.
Children finishing school rush past me, yelling at each other.
I cannot hear them but watch as they race in time to my music.
A freight train passes as I tip my head back against the white poles along the stairs.
I close my eyes and let go.
I feel the wind and the sound of a fading freight as I slip away from reality.
The train passes and the song changes. I check the time.
I still have time.
The girl gets up and begins to walk over, I could swear she looked at me.
But my cynicism tells me she will pass.
She is next to me now. I see her smooth white legs in front of me.
My heart beats.
Could she stop?
She stops. She turns and kneels down next to me and begins to talk.
I remove my headphones and talk back.
She is beautiful.
And we chat friendly. I wonder how this could happen, and why, and my heart races.
I mumble and say everything wrong.
I panic under pressure.
I try to take in all the information, but my brain is lapsing.
What did she say her name was?
It was like a dream and when you wake, try as you might to remember, it slips falling through a void.
A void where you can never reach it, in the empty crevices of your mind.
I try to remember. But I can’t. It’s like trying to catch wind with your hands.
Soon the time comes and the train arrives.
I wish I had more time.
I have forgotten, and no matter how far and wide I search I still cannot find what I am looking for.
If only the time on my phone moved in reverse.
If it gave me more time.
If I could have said what I thought, what I meant… what I truly felt.
Would that have been so wrong?
But time goes on. Forward. Seconds lead into minutes. Minutes lead into hours. Hours lead into days.
And the next time you wake you lose a little bit more.
Sometimes I wonder… when we die… do we perhaps live again?
Do we simply relive life, over and over again, without the knowledge that this has all happened before?
With that dying thought being ‘What If?’
With no memory we repeat our lives. Repeat our mistakes.
But with that nagging feeling in the back of our minds.
Has this happened before?
Or was it, perhaps, a dream?

Nostalgia

May 23, 2010

Burning nostalgia.
So strong, intense, images searing through the pages of time.
A memory so strong you can still smell it, still taste it.
Flashes, thoughts, building, becoming clearer, the fog fades, the crystal becomes glass.
Could a memory be so powerful you could go back?
Could you travel through the very fragments of your soul to a memory so intense that you can exist in it? Make changes?
Could you perhaps flip through your life like the pages of a diary?
Can you remember who you are?
Can you remember who you were?
Can you remember who you will become?
Can you stop me?

I’d like to see you try.

We measure time by the annoying tick of the clock. We measure by our tedious sense of boredom. We measure life from start to finish.
From fade in to fade out. Why not fade away?
Does a memory vanish with your mind?
Or can you relieve the great and wonderful. Find the mysterious.
Feel the love.
Feel the heat. Feel it burn. Feel your body burn.
Ravenous flames burning your diary, your book of life.
Ink melts and seeps through the pages. Your life becomes a muddled mess.
Memories meld together and you forget what was when.
Wake up in a memory. Forget the writings. Your diary is blank.
Rewrite history.

Journey’s End

May 12, 2010

Voyage is over. We’ve found the shore.
Solid land with sand in my hand.
We’ve made it to journey’s end.

I close my eyes as tears seep through.
I hold you in my arms tightly.
I never want to let go.

Night falls and the stars above shine down.
Rays from heaven sparkle in your eye.
The moon reflects in the ocean, light on the water.
The air is still, and cold, and my body feels the warmth from your breast.
You hum a lullaby more magic and calming than the open ocean.

Your black pearl anklet, a reminder of those lost.
The forgotten souls over the oceans and mountains.
Destroying the past.
Destroying evil.
Erasing ourselves and becoming blank files.

Why can’t you sleep at night.
What thoughts and images plague your soul?
Will you fight till the end of time?

The waves become mountains, and you drown yourself in the black ocean, raising from the deep to swallow you.
Why is this our journey’s end?
Why am I alone?

I am alone now.
I wait by the shore, gazing into the horizon.
A glimpse of heaven, a glimpse of you.
The trees creak and say words. I ask them if it is you.
Faces in the shadow.
Signs of your love?

I must follow.
My journey must end.
I follow you through the garden of oblivion.
I am swallowed by the sea.
I have reached my journey’s end.

Thoughts and Souls

April 30, 2010

It was like somewhere along the way I had lost track of my own destination, fell out of touch with the person I wanted to be, forgot who I was and became the beast.

Trapped in a desert of sand, drowned in a salty sea, lost in a ravenous jungle, forgotten in the place of our dreams, we lose ourselves in the world of Fairytale.

That world. That world we wished existed when faced with the harsh cruelties of reality, where you try your hardest to live via a moral compass, to be overcome and seduced into the sinister.
Things become grey. Black and White fuse and you find yourself adrift in despair.

Laying upon green pastures as the thick scent of lavender fills the cool breeze. The souls whisper gently and the blowing grass tickles along my cheek. The clouds swiftly chase each other across the mid morning sky. The view is serene.

Self hatred and loathing start. Ruminating over the thought… could there be redemption? Can you escape through the barrier of thorns and dance upon the meadows?

Am I even alive? Am I a shadow? Or even a reflection? A Ghost in the fog…

The rain falls like tears from the sky, washing away my sorrows, the harsh wind blows through my hair and whispers to me that I am free.

Deception never tasted so evil. Thin crisps of trickery and the flavourless betrayal. Entombed in this torture for life without forgiveness.

Sorrowful songs are sung at dawn. Laments to those who wish to escape the fiery depths of hell and stand under Earth’s great sky and count the stars. I smell lavender and rosemary. Sweet and sour smells.

Now we’re all son’s of bitches.