We Meet Again...

It's been some time since I've posted on here, mainly because I forgot about it. Whoever reads this may be aware of some other blogs of mine that focus on specific topics of interest, but this blog will be solely for personal and creative use.

I got bored last night and started writing, with a real pen and real paper. Writing. Not typing. It's always interesting to see what you come up with when you don't have technology distracting you. I wrote these with the intent of using them as lyrics in some songs I've either written or have yet to write. Enjoy.

1.
the frigid air breathes down my neck,
permeating this mortal shell and
chilling me to the marrow. the trees
scream in silent agony for the chance
to bloom life once again and for
the wrath of winter to subside...


the sky like cool velvet cloaks
the approach of sunlight to
the earth, shrouding it's inhabitants
in the mystery of tomorrow
and the chaos of today


a glance towards the horizon as
the light of day begins to fade
commences the unraveling of the story of dusk,
everything grayscale in it's appearance, fading
quickly to silhouette, to shadow, to black


what seems absent now is not,
but perhaps lies just beyond the
veil of fog. seek what you may,
as your veins turn to ice,
not from the cold outside,
but from the coldness within

2.
as the tide inevitably crashes
against the shore, so does
the fire inside me burn for a
sense of purpose. What was I meant for?

if not for someone, then for what?
the heat of my own selfish desire
makes me flush, my own guilt like
the white-hot embers of a fiery forge

fading in and out of knowing the
answer, my vices overcome me and
for a moment clench me in the
jaws of darkness, no hope for change

in an extravagant explosion of fragments
of the entire color spectrum my cognition
is regathered, my purpose redefined
and my journey continues

3.
you paint the sky with the
tip of your finger leaving behind
a canvas no different than when
you started, your sought-after
masterpiece nothing more than a
shard of an idea

nestled in the comfort of your
existence your level of awareness
fails you again, shepherding you into
a realm of ambiguity, the cavernous
echoes of your desires crashing to the ground

boldly you speak of holding the
world in the palm of your hand
but you let gravity serve it's purpose
time and time again and bring yourself
down to the hollow misery you
think you're running from

obstruction. impediment. hindrance.
like the paths of so many before you,
you follow blindly. the only stimuli we
need reside within the very core of our being

4.
brisk metal between my fingers,
I stand before the portal to my past,
beckoning me not to return.
hesitantly I insert the key into the lock,
the tumbler pins gnashing loudly to
indicate my presence. I am home

an aura of damaging energy tears
through me, the memories associated
with a prior way of thinking come flooding
back and lamentable patterns of
neural activity arise once again

everything I had worked for
now seems fleeting, those around
me unable to see the internal carnage
reaped and sown from their impunitive
practices that will see them burn
for all of eternity when their bodies
wither to dust

to the flames you go, karma for
leaving these burns behind, these
burns for which there is no
remedy but time