Azrael

Sickness, infected to the depths,
Toxic and devoid, virulent to the world,
Clinging to a life long since past,
Fever choked thoughts, delirium,
Grasping at the straws of my sanity,
Resting in shallow grave, waiting to die,
Yet endured did I, too stubborn to expire.

Adrift, rudderless in cavernous flux,
Swept along as paper in wind, powerless,
Unable to seize the helm, assert control,
Lost and alone, besieged by my illness,
Immutable, unchanging, perpetual.
Until she came to me.

Her eye's pieced the veil of my tenebrous condition,
A light in my darkest night, terrible and beautiful,
Azrael, my angel of death.
Hands joined, she flew me to my Jerusalem,
Her embrace shook the foundations of my dark construction,
And in her arms, revelation. 
Death had found me at last, no more hiding,
So die i did, a traumatic, horrible demise it was.

A ghost now, haunting my former stations,
Loitering in places of once happy existence,
Drenched in memory, past lives, so long ago, eternity...nearly
Lingering in unknown spaces,
Someplace between the death of my past self,
And the birth of who i wish to become,
A destitute wasteland, sun baked and empty,
But calming in its submission, its honesty, 
Ghosts on the road to Damascus.

From Tomb to Womb

To die, to rest, relief, release,
End the grief, the anguish, find peace,
Sweet death embalmed in tombs of stone,
Answered secrets, the great unknown,
But close not too tight your coffins door,
The journey is just beginning, much more in store,
For you will learn to walk once more,
I found my death that night, lest i forget,
Became a wraith, a silhouette,
Dawned my mask of  Kain did I,
Cast spear to heart, your turn to die,
Dear brother lay slain, good bye,
Will never be the same, the deed is done,
Let loose the ghosts to have their fun,
Cut the net, no turning back,
The void beckons me away, pitch black,
A familiar place, filled with dread,
Past mistakes, dark roads  retread,
But something has changed, voice in my head,
"Come back to life, you are not dead".
My world, a web of gentle woven lies,
Where i rot and linger, as time flies by,
Yet still i have wings, i cannot deny,
We all do, though most know not why,
No more hiding, free the truth, let it fly,
Its not the darkness in us that we most fear,
Its the light inside, our inner chandelier,
That our true potential always lies so near,
To live encaged in suffering is a choice,
A self policing prison, ignore the voice,
Yet we hold the key that sets us free,
Lingered in my cell too long have I,
I had no choice, I had to die.
And in that long night, a light appears,
Dawn is breaking, day is near,
Light at the end of this tunnel, birth canal?
Leave behind your corpse, filled with shame and scorn,
Yet tomb unsealed, let yourself mourn,
But understand this this truth dear friends,
You have to die, before you can be reborn.

Time? What time do we have?

Time. The universal elixir for pain and grief. Or so the saying goes. Time heals all wounds, soothes the soul's agony. Makes everything spiffy clean and groovy given enough patience and strength. I know there is truth to this belief, yet it brings me no relief. Wounds may heal, bruises and injuries mend. Some wounds scar over though, and never truly heal. There are lines that should never be crossed. And after stepping past that proverbial line in the sand, there is no going back, no matter how bad i want to.  I've crossed this infamous point of no return. Swept away by a whirlwind, that has left me in this faraway and destitute place. My own personal wasteland, scorched and godforsaken. Lingering on the fringes, scorned and alone.  And no matter how hard i try to justify and rationalize what happened, there's no shelter for me here. There is no escaping this nightmare. Victim of a cruel fate, yet i created this reality.

I broke the link in a chain that encompassed my entire life, past, present and future.  Our lives, intertwined in the complex web of modern humanity. The people within, the relationships, the only place I've ever really been at ease, the only place i have ever truly belonged. I've always been an outsider in life, a lonely brigand, watching from a distance, but i found a home with these people. This tapestry was beautiful, it was fucking sacred. It was the only real thing that defined me, the only thing I've ever really loved. And i fucking went and stained it. Cut the very foundation that my life rested on. Stained this beautiful and unique circle of lifelong friendship. I betrayed the bonds of brotherhood. I am the weakness and frailty of mankind. I am the pathetic punchline to proverbs and fairy tales. The flaw of humanity is manifest here within. And let me tell you, its devastating, completely and utterly. I wish i was a sociopath, that this didn't hurt so bad, i really do. I know I'm a "good" person, with good intentions for the world, for humanity, for the people around me. And i fucked up. Really really badly. And i know that i will never be able to forget this. As months slur to years this will stay with me, time's medicine be damned. Maybe someday I'll be forgiven. But i know i will never forgive myself.

Huanted

Haunted.
Endless onslaught of memories,
Everywhere i go, the specter follows,
Constant reminder, relentless.
No escape, no shelter,
Try not to think, try to forget, switch it off,
Close your eyes, go to sleep, no relief.
There it is, waiting, grinning.
The ghosts roam unhindered in the dreams,
My restless mind their playground.
Taunt and torture me, so cruel,
Choices made in weakness, delusion, confusion.
Atrocious decisions, piled high as Babel,
Blinded by twisted loneliness, desire.
The degenerate gambler's last night in Vegas.
Throw it all away, go out with a bang.
What do you have to lose? Everything.
Firebug burning the bridge that was the escape route.
Set it all ablaze, watch it cremate.
Then sift through the ashes, as the high sobers, enchantment fades,
The darkness descends,
And ghosts come out to play.

The Witching Hours

My perfect nightmare, just as i always dreamed,
A flawless creation, the saboteur's masterpiece,
Complete victory, complete devastation,
I destroyed a good man, a good friend, utterly.
Such a beautiful betrayal, the worst possible thing,
And in handiwork I've destroyed myself, my life,
Just as i always wanted, as I've always desired, needed.
But why? Why did i do this, how am i become this monster?
Why did this happen?
Impossible to comprehend.
Lingering in the park, as day slurs to night,
Spending some quality time with the crows,
And my swam of flies that follows me everywhere, drawn to my stench,
The stench of weakness, of festered desire, the stench of a villain.
Who is this man in the mirror?
I am desperate to know, desperate to understand.
So i take to the streets at night, alone,
Searching for some relief, for meaning,
Did she really love me?
Her secret to keep.
I talk to the schizophrenic, banter with the junky,
Listen to the homeless man's ramblings,
Brilliant gibberish laced with wisdom,
My fellow lost souls stumbling the streets in darkness.
And the only truth that we come to, our only common ground,
Is that everyone is fucked up, we're all damaged, flawed,
We're all soft monsters, somewhere buried inside,
Only some of us realize it more than others,
Some of us have met our monster, beholden the beast within,
And those who have, take to the streets at night,
Searching for their meaning, their relief,
Desperate for the answers to others' secrets,
Desperate to understand the choices they've made,
A sea of wanderers grasping at something out of reach,
Something hidden in the night.
Drifting through cigarette smoke and neon glow,
Through shattered glass and coffee stains,
All leaving drops of blood in our wake, some ours, some others',
A trail of tears and broken promises, imploded dreams,
Filthy, wretched and defeated, stinking of regret, shame.
Some victims, others villains, all suffering the same,
A silent and restless army, marching to some unknown place,
Haunted by the ghosts of our memories,
That cling to the flesh like shadow, one step behind.
All wishing they could go back and change what happened,
Make right their mistakes, fix the damage done,
But we can't.
You can't go home again, the door is locked and the key cast away.
Time heals all they say, but can it wipe away the taint?
Can time wash clean the sin?
It's the only affective medicine, and i fear the dosage is too low. 
I don't know the answers, Don't know what to believe.
My only choice is to keep breathing, keep searching,
And maybe, in some unexpeted corner, in some dark alley,
I'll find what I'm looking for, I'll find my sunny place. I'll finally understand.
So i dawn my uniform, join the rank and file,
And take to the streets at night, like all the others.