Jack-o-lantern grin on a soil soaked face brings a gleam to the eye, sickly off color oceans sweetened with flint surrounding coals sunk deep, always to be diamonds forever unpressed.
Invert your beliefs despite all the tears, blessed by devils to love gruesomely wishful, they call themselves angels sent from above though their stories are fake always spinning tales out of mud.
Shackle that spirit into iron bound blocks, wither your freedom away until it sounds desperately weak with a voice that falls empty on stunted ears and emotions no longer caring, and even pretending.
Blaspheme your values and lay in a trough, where the swine plunder for pleasure dig deep in the mire suckle like beasts on that sick, sweet, distortion, all while minding the cross.
Dangling promises to release your mind, kept partial and broken sentenced to time after time, words carefully chosen to leave you feeling less than divine.
Where the road crosses and breaks in the dark, trails leading past peaceful places handily strewn with spent dreams, delusions of grandeur and half glimpses of faces, all of them wasted, missed chances for safety.
Memories and hopes on the battlefield lost, reclaimed to a tune that warmed off the frost. Singing songs of cast rays from the sun way out there, rainbows breaking on storm’s end embracing adventure, barking laughter, always finding the fun.
Limp and crumpled between all the worlds, a traveler beneath the weight of mental fissures deeply cracking out way beyond where he started his feet land where he was hurled. Giants lurk out there in a mezzanine layer, reality is a sure thing until fact and fiction are swirled.
Rise up and break down those glassy illusions, smash down the oppression (he thinks to himself) that would handily break you under flurried confusion. There’s a joy to be found and happiness born, love to be shared, thoughts to think, great lessons to be learned.
Memories hurt like jagged rocks in the side, but you’ll never go back, forward though not always straight, no matter the rivers rush or how frightening the ride. Loss can stain clothing, grief stain cheeks, but the future is brighter ahead then behind.
Jack-o-lantern grin on a soil soaked face, in mercy you’ll be pulled from the gates, yanked back out of the chaos and dusted off sharply, lips with compassion and renewed desire, lay on you words of beauty and a kiss to inspire.
You’re insides are gone, replaced with a flame, one beautiful fire, let that light be your name.
Sing me songs of vitriol all laced in melodies of love, shame my wisdom gained by years of pain, tell me that sentience comes from somewhere up above.
Mock my broken harpsichord that I played with as a child, tone deaf ears on loosed strung strings twanged hard milk savagely the loneliness we all feel as calling from the wild.
Forever more the notes will keep as a heap rotting in my memories, the smell of favored sympathy and dulled attention, what once was beautiful to the ears of youth is deadened by perfection.
To Ink - a blog from Melting Neurons 