Paradise Lane

Falling in to place pieces of pristine palaces parade down paradise lane.

The garden gathers grotesquely the rotten ripe fruit of of fallen forsaken fathers as morose mothers meander down the forgotten few road.

Children cry carelessly while carrying on without care and the garden gathers further.

Carrying burdens draped in cloth while those seen as burdens gather around, bound for the field of standing stones and burning pits the pristine palaces parade down paradise lane, a lane that no longer has a name as all fall to nothing.

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The Arsonist Choir

I live within the arsonists choir, singing praises for raging fire.

We see it burn, we hear its call, we sing the fire’s blazing song.

I live within the arsonists choir and I am next, the chosen pyre.

Hear my song, sing my praise, until I am gone and only ash remains.

I do burn, I do rage, I am fire, the eternal blaze.

Burnt to ash, blackened dust, my praises sang by the arsonist choir.

That congregation of those waiting to embrace conflagration.

Feel the rage, feed the fire, embrace the pain, hold the flame.

Until not remains but ash and praise, in this…

The arsonist’s choir, our funeral pyre.

~~~~~~~~Afterword~~~~~~~~

So The Foo Fighters caused this one, as it was inspired by their song “Something From Nothing” so figured I’d mention that one. Good song that one.

Burning (All is Flame)

I slam my head against the wall that I built before my fall I can’t stop this burning.

This flame inside my mind, that tells me I am nothing, that all I am is dust and envy with nothing to show and nothing to gain.

Still, I slam my head into this wall and bleed and bleed with nothing to show for it but pain and rage.

And yet, I still exist, I still reside, in this empty life with this empty smile of mine.

Burning, burning, burning, I can’t seem to stop this incessant yearning.

Fingers moving across the letters, fingers moving and dripping red blood.

The ink drained from my soul, writing out my life and letting go the flood.

I empty myself out, pour it onto the page and all I ever get is filled with more and more rage.

I exist and I bleed and I cut with these words, cutting out the blood to silence the scream I need to release more and more.

This endless rage, this endless seething, leaking blood red fury in a sea of green envy.

Too foolish to admit, to kind to blame, all I am is alone, and everything is bright red flames.

 

Repeat

A scratching silence fills my life, repeating repeating an endless loop.

Nothing changes, nothing moves, the needle on the record skips and skips, an endless loop.

Repeating, repeating never moving, nothing new, always used, left behind.

No reason to smile, no reason to be, this endless repeat is all thats left of me.

Graveyard Shift – Retail

“So, you’re starting up tonight at that new clothing store huh? Strange that place has a graveyard shift, but whatever. I’ve heard some stories though, you want to hear?”

“Well first off, you’re not supposed to go in the back, where they keep the mannequins? That’s a nono, manager only apparently. You’ve been back there huh? Best keep that to yourself. I’m not sure why they’re weird about it, but the last girl that went back there? Well, she didn’t fare too well job wise after it.”

“After that, the clothing they sell? It’s all leathers, good leather but still an all leather clothing store open 24 hours? That’s just awkward, yeah fucking creepy really, seeing all those bone white mannequins all dressed in dead skin more or less.”

“Another thing, don’t go messing with the mannequins, those things are normally creepy enough but that place? I don’t know but they give me the…oh shit. Your manager is right there, staring at us. What…oh fuck…fuck…shit fuck hell! Run! Run damn i-”

“Where are we? The store? Why the fuck-oh hell…nononnon-”

The girl’s voice cuts off and your manager stands before you,  a smile stretching their mouth into a macabre grin.

“I have to thank you for being such a dedicated worker, if you wanted to work overtime as a model, well all you had to do was ask. Since you’re doing it pro bono though, I have to say thanks dear. Oh don’t worry, kill you? Oh no, no, none of my girls are dead. They’re out on the floor, just as pretty as you please, see look I’ve kept their faces, why? So you could see them smile. Now dear, hold your breath, it’s your turn.”

“Skin? Oh you’ll have your own lovely jacket to wear, your skin seems smooth enough for it. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Graveyard Shift

(Just so its here –  strong language and violence after this line)

Hey can you let me in dude? Thanks, you new here huh? You ever work graveyard shift at a gas station before? Just started huh? Well, I’ll tell ya man, it gets strange. I’m not talking someone wearing something funky, or people with just odd habits. We’re talking sci-fi b movie special on prime time strange.

Examples? Well shit, oh hey, just two nights ago had a guy pull in, bought some oil and some gas and some paper plates, I’m not thinking anything of it ya know? Whatever needs some oil, some gas for his mower and some plates, no biggie. Then, then it gets strange.

Some creepy as dogs, think they were dogs anyway, they start barking and baying, and the place gets cold, like I wanted to go into the beer cooler and warm up cold. The lights flicker and all of sudden that guy outside has all that stuff in a super soaker and I’m just seeing these balls of flame and hearing yelping and I’m thinking, I’ll call the cops. Doesn’t work, phones are out, shoulda been obvious right? No dude, no shitting ya phone was out, not even a busy signal. Then one of those mutts burst in through the window, seriously ask the manager, he’ll tell ya drunks did it but you should be knowing better if you’re working here.

Where was I? Oh yeah, so I’m covered in glass and that things blood and it fucking burns man, it’s like I got bleach on me and that guy comes in, douses me in alcohol, and sets the other thing on fire. I’m thinking I’m toast, literally, this guy is gonna light me up. He just smiles, hands me an envelope and asks if any of em got to me. I tell him no, he nods, says to give that to the manager for repairs and what to say and he tells me if I see someone looks like they got bit not to let them in. Apparently it’s like some vampire shit ya know?

What? Me? Oh well, might have lied. Really shouldn’t of let me in dude.

Cause I’m fucking starving.

 

Solitude (Exile)

I think aloud and my thoughts do echo through out the noiseless sound,

the rumbling ramble that is my mind, sitting in shadows alone, paying my due time.

Caged in self imposed exile, chained to solitude as all I know.

I can’t understand how to leave this castle I’ve built when it’s all I have and all I own.

Nor do I have the keys to open the gates to another, to let someone in.

So I’m trapped in this citadel, this castle of mine, with only my thoughts and my echo as a friend to my darkened time.

If only I’d not locked the door behind me, if only I’d not built my walls so high.

Maybe then at least the moon or sun could be my friend, something else to get me by.

But alas it’s not to be, I’ll be trapped in this darkness forever with not even shadows for company.

I’ve found now, with this exile of mine, perhaps it better to risk the dagger and open the door, than dwell and silence without a single smile for warmth.