[Arsis_von_Neaera]

Here are a few other pieces.



Simply Put

This is not a poem.

Simply put, these are my expression.
These words are like blood, teeth, and sweat that I have chewed, choked, and lived on for centuries; finally I am spitting them out at the people that punched me in the face and caused this. It is in asunder the state of my expression. I have tamed my desires with the open casket my life is becoming. My enemies cannot remain so long as transgressions are claret and my bane is wrath. Life itself is not cruel enough to make it impossible for anyone to attain happiness; however, the things within it make up for this fact by being simply hard on everyone. Justice becomes villainous; truth becomes tyranny; wisdom becomes a self righteous journey down the throats of the innocent.
I will make them eat their words, as they have made me eat mine. It takes a long tongue to lie; I will make them swallow it. If you were I, you would hate yourself.
My body becomes a sewn together collective of tortured soul’s and personalities. Limbs of the soul stripped bare to the bone. Bones scarred with the names of the damned in burnt black marrow. Eye’s become crystallized; stationary, hard like diamonds, and black like ash. Tears solidify and become heated flowing streams of sorrow on a cracked porcelain expression.

The Free

The dying
We stand taller than we seem
We seem stronger than our theme
Seeming
Wonderful to one another
Walking to the end of our roads
Building our own fate
To hold the weight of the world
To bare the pain we can’t conceive
On a dying planet
No way out
A plane with no dimensions
Reality that can’t be measured
Death not worth living for
Life not worth ending
No peace
No pace
Like clockwork
We march to the drum beat of falling
We ride ourselves through hell
We make our own demise
Factory produced wrath
Enacting out a theatrical farce to innocence
Painting the earth red with bullets
Burning the earth coal black with flame
Bleaching our hands white with acts
Washing our hands until they bleed
Rinse and repeat
We blame our foundations
Lie to our streets
Accuse the industry
Exertion becomes the scapegoat
In the end it is we
It’s always the end that realizes and teaches
Give not to receive
Live only to perceive
Perception of death
Inception of intentions
Minds blinded by eyes
We are free
Be free
We, in dying, have only life to live for
What to die for, we must find in life

This is a just a collection of brooding thoughts. The first is poetry, the rest is just dribble that came from the same place.

Waste

It is nothing more than you are
Your conscience is divine
It creates the world you live in
Within it you are confined

When you're the only one left to hate
When you're at the bottom of your own list
You'll turn your back on what’s ahead
And dwindle upon all you've missed

When you have no more fingers left
When you have been left in shame
You'll wander back to the path you left
And realize you are who's to blame.

You're loneliness is no one’s fault
You cannot confess your crime
Your pain belongs to no one else
It's time to serve your time

As the captain of your own soul
As the captor of your own spirit
You are the one to blame for this
And that is why you fear it

If you’re going to waste your time
Waste it on someone worthy
Don't waste what is mine
It really isn’t worth your time.

Only because you don't know;
And what you don't know you’re afraid of;
And you can't be brave if you’re not afraid.
I've got my issues, their name is you.

As you watch the world fall apart
I'll be waiting here with an open heart
Embracing the apocalypse
Embracing all when it becomes dark.

And I’ll be standing alone in the dark
Pretending not to see the waste of what fell apart.

nothing
because friendship has a fucking price tag that can be repaid with money
when debt isn't counted for despite its lack of return
cause people and time don't have value because there is no currency to match
so when someone says "you owe me" the only way to repay them is with something of value
because tangible is a form of currency universal to what is friendship
and friends mean about as much as money does
and people aren't worth shit

I wish crazy were a place
I would leave, then I could be sure that I've left
thats the crazy thing about crazy
at least
mine
i don't know if I've left
i wish there was something to hold onto
but like all things, reality keeps changing
and as reality changes, so does crazy
its like madness just bends in the other direction
and they keep getting further and further apart

my head is a circle, it follows the same track
different thoughts just keep getting on and riding it to different destinations
You're only missed when your gone.
I am tearing myself apart and every time I look at my blood stained fingers the faces of everyone significantly involved in my life appears on my finger tips.