No Mercy For The Devil

Do you think that we are here? Or are we just a distant, faded memory of a life once lived? We try so hard to believe that the end is not here when in fact it might have already happened. Just a world stuck. Not constant spinning, but instead more like a broken record or a treadmill... Constantly moving but never evolving. We are already dead. Not so much like the Emily Dickinson version, but perhaps more like some sort of overlapping déjà vu.  I believe in a life that seems real, matrix at times, but almost perfect with a slight drop of bullshit. I believe we die a thousand times a day and we are seamlessly moved to a different place. A strange concept and an even harder one to accept, i'm sure. But if you stop and think about all the near death experiences you personally have come by, you start to wonder if they really were NEAR-MISSES.  Separate yourself from what you believe is reality and imagine there's a billion realities, just like this, f...

Why Does the wind blow? To cover the tracks where we have been so that no one will know we still exist I woke up this morning (or at least I thought I did) , to the slight memory of a dream. A dream in which we again stood together, side by side. We stared into a crowd and even out-numbered we didn't even feel the slightest bit alone. Torn clothing and sore muscles; we begin to re-ignite. It's already been a long battle, but you and I have come to know terror and never accept defeat. Each night, we claw closer and hold the line. We are unstoppable. Each Night, I close my eyes to see your face, to hear you scream, and to watch the end of the world all over again.  I continue to believe that my dreams are more than they seem. I've felt strongly about joining you there. Together we can survive forever, lapse away and wake up decades from now and start life all over; get a second shot to do the things we were never meant to do. We can always wake up (right?) .  I se...

"Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free."   -Jim Morrison So what happens when the world spins with furious anger and the stars fall from the sky like a pack of diamonds. So beautifully bright and yet so irrationally destructive. We will be the last on this earth to see the sun rise. We will be the last on this great planet to see the world break apart and watch as they rise from the ashes and claim the world for one last step into anger and pain. One last way to disrespect the whole ideal of life.  For there will always be the one-mysterious-shadow bathed in a light much like the falling stars. I awake every night and dream. My eyes grow tiresome and my heart beats fast, as I slip away into the shadows. In this world, I call it my own; in this world, I call HER my own. But making such and assumption is not only dangerous, but presumptuous. She is just as ...

"Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe." -Voltaire Think of a fireball, barreling out of control, a million miles an hour and just pretend it's on a collision course for you. A mile a way and closing, gently close your eyes and relax. Take a deep breath, but don't hold it in. Let the sky fall on top of your shoulders and let the world sneak inside your lungs. Open your eyes and see the fireball is not only out of flame, but frozen directly in front of you. Reach out and touch it and feel the death piercing inside of your fingertips. This is the first and perhaps last time you get to play god. Determine for yourself which direction to take this from here, and you'll find a new way to venture further on past the light and deeper into yourself. You are the maker of your own destiny and yet you can't seem to get the noise out of your head. Play the super hero all you want, but at the end of the day, you find yourself clin...

" I wish. I wish more than anything. But I can't imagine you with all your complexity, all you perfection, all your imperfection. Look at you. You are just a shade of my real wife. You're the best I can do; but I'm sorry, you are just not good enough." For once in my life, I find myself alone in a room packed to the brim with voices echoing from wall to wall. With the fire on my back and the snow falling just outside my window. I pace back and forth from inside. I am tempted dearly by the fire burning, but yet the cold is just three steps to my left. which is wrong, or which is right? I'm not sure where this life will lead me, but i'm starting to die inside. I'm starting to think there's no escape from this place.  I lost every thing I loved most about this world when the sun came down, but the light will not phase my desire to shine far beyond the others with my craft. I've ventured much of my early life to sit and explain what the life I...