Who slaughters the pigs around here?

Gone are the ruins of their establishments
from the dirt and stones rises another power
more ruthless and merciless than the last
a never ending circle of corrupted disturbances

but who can judge the human mind
the relentless struggle towards power
who's lies have been warped into a whirlpool of misconceptions

creeping evil, has infiltrated every orifice of our nation
gather brothers and sisters
who can stop us?
not the man in white, nor the smelly pig,
fuck you, wig wearing bastards too, reeking of filth

why push your ideals upon the individuals
in the grind, no room left to squeal
how difficult is it to make things equal
live without pressure
happiness amongst all peoples

 but alas this ideal is unreal
the reality speaks louder than all else
and evil is everywhere

lurking between you and I
hidden, like the fabricated ideals of our foundation,
beneath white lies
ever so comfortable with our demise

Moving Forward

In need of a course of action, been sitting in the same place for quite some time. Where does the search begin? Well that all depends on where the path is going. A question, one can only guess at the answer, where the only reasonable direction is straight on. First, before all else begins, to take the first step, onto a path. Perhaps it truly does not matter which, but the action of physically and spiritually, stepping upon something.

Growth in measures: Love

Sitting down, writing a story. Full of what?
Have I come to a greater understanding of what lays before me? My eyes at last opened to what opportunity lays in the palm of my hand? Why do I keep tripping upon my own fears? Each time I stumble, his hand lifts me from the abyss of my own perilous tomb. I keep throwing my self down the hole, but what is the last shard of glass which pushes me over the edge? I will not stop fighting the madness but I want to embrace understanding of it all. Though the thoughts come and go, sadness does not, an unwanted visitor in the middle of the night. Like a bat hanging from the rafters, but the barn is full of cattle, every which one of them wide awake in terror.

What can exist after the world is over? I have found a love, like truly none other. Even if these words are full of naive hunger I care not, what is right and true will be so no matter what. Its difficult to see past what lies beneath our masks. Who really sees your soul? And for those that do, are they happy with what is before them? The unsatisfied can continue on, walking in search of everything. But what is now and what is happening is something so pure. so fucking chemical. so full of sunshine. The stars are beginning to implode with each passing second, a chain reaction of magma filled lemon drops, raining down upon the heart of the sun.

A New Beginning

January 2, 2012

The first of the year has come and gone.
A fiery hell lies before us.