Dark Storm

Dark storm-filled sky 

Oppressing all-encompassing 

Overwhelming in its inescapability

A depressing blanket smothering those hunched underneath. 

Penetrated by a ray of light 

A hand reached out  

An offering to escape 

I don't trust it 

It must be a joke 

A mistake 

I turn my head 

The light disappears 

Swallowed by the storm

I begin to walk away, rain beginning to sting sharply against my skin. 

Consumed by the tempest 

Wind cutting to my bones 

Rain drenching my body

I am content 

An expected pain is better than that of broken trust. 



Golden hour

Golden perfection shades all that lounge underneath-

For but an instant, I can slow down and breathe. 

Then a pain-

A writhing anguish- 

Fear of loss-

Fear of change- 

I close my eyes and look away.

And when I turn back, clutching my chest. 

Nothing but rotted wood and bare leaves remain.

Shattered World

A shattered world stretches for miles 

Winds blow through the hollow mountains 

Whispers like steel scraping along bone 

Rasping all that remains of old man time.

Above a sky of flame burns.

It seems alive as it crashes across the horizon. 

Deafening in its silence. 

Crushing in its weightlessness.

Light flickers 

Rigid steel interrupting natural flows 

One last fingerprint 

Flippant in its intrusion 

Natural in its creators.. 

 Infinite Wire

Cursed land 

Crippled by time 

Scared and festering with wounds born by greed and anger.

The omnipresence looks on not a hand raised nor a finger lifted.

Inky darkness rules all.

A man hunches down on one knee 

Cables stretch for miles 

An endless tangle 

Never-ending and never touching 

In their parallel the man finds catharsis.

Freedom

Freedom sores above my head 

An expanse so breathtaking language can't quite manage to articulate, 

So awesome the world beneath lies in its shadow. 

The earth strains itself reaching up toward that freedom 

It never grasps what it seeks.

Rooted to itself

Seemingly all-powerful 

Yet unable to obtain that which it desires most.

I lower my camera

Breath condenses as its heat melds with the cold felt around me.

I can feel it as I walk back towards my car 

Each step hunching lower 

Melting into the cement below. 

The crushing desire of the world pulls me down 

And the sky offers no wings to lift me up. 

Nostalgia

Nostalgia 

A wistful attention to the past 

So human in its tragic originality

To seek something long gone  

A feeling once had but no longer attainable 

Words from a song 

A show no longer what it used to be 

When found the result is the death of something once held dear 

A video game played one too many times 

A movie now lacking in excitement 

Yet time continues to move on. 

In that crushing reality some refuse to move with it. 


Blazing Rage

After the blazing rage of a fire.

There lies a blank slate. 

The woods regrow, plants thrive, animals trickle back. 

Scorched earth turns into fertile soil. 

The once-scarred land now more beautiful than ever.

When we are hurt we are left empty.

Hallowed.

And yet we move on.  

We must.

There is nothing else to do.

Experience nurtures.

It strengthens. 

What sprouts from within becomes strong. 

If we let it. 


The Observer

A world full of observers. 

Always watching as the planet spins around us. 

Wars rage 

Children starve 

Countries burn to the ground 

The plant chokes underneath humanity's crushing heel. 

And yet we stand aloof. 

A camera in hand. 

Beauty spreads out before those lucky enough to witness it. 

A man hunches over gnarled fingers trembling as he presses down. 

A click of a button the only sign of action 

I stare down at the picture in hand and stuff it into my pocket 

In the future not long it will be treasured. 

An ashen taste of the world long since lost to history. 

Natural Flow

An elementary flow, beautiful in its nature. 

Its simplicity. 

Jarringly interrupted.

Natural manipulated into the unnatural.

As I sit here denim-covered knees sinking into the mud I ask.

Why? 

Why must we always interfere? 

Always “innovate”

Expand into the places never even meant to be discovered.

The answer rings out through the rusting pipe. 

Because. 

It's your nature. 

The Cycle

Shielding canopy pierced by symmetrical incandescence. 

Hyperboranth niche evaporates underneath. 

Rebirth and death shackled to eternity. 

Regoise! as warmth and life is restored. 

Our Inevitability

In the ice-cold embrace, we wallow 

The mind begins to erase

All that has come before 

Lifeblood continues to flow yet 

Inevitability is unavoidable.  

To be alive is to be bound 

To seek freedom is to chase after the very chains you run from.

In our truth there lies a certain adventure 

There is an end to all things 

The only escape is acceptance. 


Ascension

Negative space rends at the pitch-black expanse

An all-seeing eye boring into those it seeks. 

Smoke blown across the universe. 

Clouds seem to glitch buzzing like a disconnected TV

A man lays spread eagle in the now. 

His gnarled hand stretched toward the sky.

For an instant he believes he can ascend.

To Be Alone

In the cold I stand- 

Feet planted at the center of an ice-covered wasteland- 

One hand trembles and jitters-

The other tranquil and still- 

One longs for the others warmth yet solace it will-

Never reform. 

Our Truth

When you strive for greatness so extreme

Do not be surprised when eventually reality dashes your dreams.

When you charge forth with only progress in mind

An eye opener let it not be when mankind is ground underfoot

When you live as if in a tunnel with nothing but an end 

Let you not feel consternation when your even visage is hated

As you soar high over the empires created 

Remember history will always repeat 

Understand that however grand and glorious world we sculpt

Will become nothing but a paper written-

by an old man scribing another rendition of an empire's fall. 

Not even first and laughably not even last.  

The Agonist

Some days the mind feels as if full of clouds 

A foghorn across the bay does call warning of the encroaching shrouds

In the sky far above waits what you seek but not yet know 

As the wind around you does yet blow 

Look up and out past the blackness above

An abyss, empty and cold 

Truly? 

Is that what awaits me when I'm gone?

Dissociation

For some months now, the line between reality and fiction has blurred.

Consciousness seems to be as erratic as a bird 

Here one moment gone the next 

How can this be?

How can those around me not see

The lives we live

The mindless draugr we’ve become

Yet eventually I'm reminded

Of the true situation at hand, a brain-addled planet 

There is no beginning and no end 

That we live life in a perfect world is what we’ll always pretend  

Rumination

Being judged is a fear I have 

To raise my hand, a greater challenge there is not in this world 

Every laugh I hear must be aimed at my back 

One voice turns to a hundred 

The world's eye is trained upon me 

Every day 

Every hour 

Every second 

I hide 

I live life like a man walking on a frozen lake 

I tiptoe 

With each step, I flinch 

Hunching over 

Shrinking, folding to the pressure, to the fear 

Yet the cracking beneath my feet is only in my mind 

In the end, the only one in danger of drowning is me.

The Dream

At night, I long to dream 

To escape the drab of the daily scheme 

For to lie in bed and seek the place only my awakened soul dare roam 

Is a long leap better than wherever my feet may carry me far from home

And so I sleep-

I fall deep into the infinite well 

A realm so vast and beautiful to imagine it puts your mind under a spell.

Yet eventually

Like all things, this wonder must end 

Awake again to face just one final day until I ascend.

Alone

City of steel and stone 

Land brimful with mass 

Void of life 

A blightscape masked by the heavens' beauty 

Hallowed of a soul's soft warmth 

A husk wanders aimlessly through it all. 

The crushing weight of vacuity eats at his soul 

A parasite ripping at his mind 

Tearing through the man, he once believed himself to be 

even as the golden warmth of the sun's euphoria warms his face 

beaconing him toward the light 

Towards salvation

He crawls further into the shadows 

The city isn't done with him yet

The Infinate Road

On an old, worn-down road, ravaged by time- 

A man trudges, stuck in his own paradigm.

In one hand, he grips a notepad; in the other, a pen.

Finally, he believes that he sees the long-sought end.

But when he reaches the summit- 

Before him stretches a thousand more paths 

For miles and miles, they twist, bend, and flow.

He knows not where they'll take him nor where they'll go. 

Yet he takes a deep breath-

Pen and paper in hand, his dreams guide his next step