The Great Escape.

There's a laugh behind the doors,
Walking smoothly like the flowers,
Still in that vase changed like a whore,
I turn around as that sound cowers.

Turn the lock, turn the key,
Open to see that window core,
Behind me filled with misery,
Looks like going out is a chore.

What happened to the sun,
It was sunny just a moment gone,
Gone without the glory and fun,
Tonight is going to be far too long.

The Anarchist Cookbook Vol. 2.

There is nothing but the wings of destiny,
Twined in a bird perched on shoulders.

They sing their song of peace and joy,
And understanding through patience and virtue.

These birds are shot down, bleeding on their flight.

Such is the cost of governments and society.

It's Friday Tomorrow.

Oh weeks and weeks of no end,
Hurt my feelings more than my body,
And I'm tired of carrying on,
When I no longer recognize myself.

That mirror is not broken,
Nor should it be,
The reflection of a damaged soul,
And what he should really be.

Workout Day.

There's nothing I can say,
Nothing I can do now but wait,
Starting out as a minor in life,
Having nothing but my way.

Unstoppable, impenetrable,
Hard-presses to the core,
Sweating bullets forged,
Making his own little lore.

Disjointed.

The deliverance, calm with flow,
Flawless execution of power,
Entrails of the old regime,
Going faster for sanity of slow.

The confusion rebirth,
Falling on deaf ears of sons,
Rebellion for sanctity of ours,
No mention of honor or mirth.

The Hills Are On Fire.

Fallen for compunction,
Without reason nor function,
Walking in circular logic free,
No one cares enough to see.

Walking toward that black light,
Fueled by terror and fright,
running from help and friends,
Convinced the cycle will never end.

Just die.

Pray For Salvation.

Why do you look at me like that?
Why do you read this like you know,
That sense of self desire,
Of knowing, climbing higher?

Undefined values with me,
Unexplainable forces of nature,
We can do little to change condition,
Why can't you see, and pray with me?

Agnostic.

God have mercy on my soul,
No one down here will,
Because I wish for peace still,
Never to happen in your image.

But I don't know,
We still fear the unknown,
No evidence of your home,
And I've lost some faith.

Faith in myself is gone,
Like the origin of man,
The sin to be had,
Etched in a million minds.

Coyote Moon.

My boredom has lead me here,
Called the coyote moon without call,
Broken up with howls and moans,
Open everyday in summer and fall.

There is no pleasure or pain,
No stares or accusing glares,
Just people wanting company,
Interest is the only fare.

Come in in you want,
We'll all go together to this home,
This comfortable place we know,
Where nobody is ever alone.