Kashbugg

Oh what a magnificent year My heart is shivering in fear Of life's furious, bloody spear And I know the end is near Superior, pointless violence My world cut with vehemence Slices the cadaver of human corpulence To pay back our very own fraudulence Why would I cry over our loss? My face is struck with emboss Not blemished by teary gloss Though I don't believe in faithfull dross This day is not worse than the last Time goes by incredibly fast No use to break down in the past Who stays back stays as an outcast My heart is shivering in fear My world cut with vehemence Why would I cry over our loss? No use to break down in the past Though I

I thought about writing a poem About an endless mountain That we have to climb A brilliant simile for life You would have been rushing Exploring every hidden cove Before getting struck by nature It would have been melancholic beauty But life was a road You were far away Nature's fist was a truck My mind is empty I don't want to write But my heart has to just be careful on your next climb We will all miss you

Buy fancy clothes To hide who I really am Am I average? You go left, I don't Anxiety lurks inside So, where should I go? You seem so careless Why can't I let things run free? Haunted by demons Don't know who I am But I don't want to be you Just let me run free Just work a life long? And die at age seventy? I won't accept that

Loneliness . . . I long for the quill To use it as a drill And steal Time the kill . . . One drop of ink My life's on the brink One final blink . . . The liquid divides From nocturnal tides Ascends she and guides . . . Me away from the light Her dark body's shining bright As she holds me tight . . . I attempt to respond 'Cause I am grateful beyond Limits and oh, so fond . . . But my tender embrace Squishes her gracious face So I hug the empty space . . . Left with a dry quill I decide to spill Another liquid in the rill . . . Another goddess For someone struck with loneliness . . . ______________

You call yourself a knight A knight of truth to be precise Still longing for the light But lies are your only devise Never a knight Forever a bard Trapped in the worlds you create Unable to accept verity But willing to offer your dictate And to pollute clarity Never a prophet Forever a poet Pretend to be a mighty eagle But without your fancy feathers You are not all that lethal Looking like a pigeons elders Never a seeker Forever a creeper A poet A liar

Silence on a wide open field Souls filled up with expectations Clash into their frightened opposers The organist sits down And solemnly plays the first tune Accompanied by a rising sun Intense sounds leave the organs pipes To hurl up in the sky Before spreading on the porous ground A symphony of steel and fire That tears our minds to pieces And rips the limbs apart The cruel organist has returned For another day of carnage We can not help but cry Out of fear Of misery Of hate Of admiration For the distant monsters perfection

I once stole the sun To replace the cold with warmth Watch the bright disk smile I give you a ride If you live outside the norm And serve as my food I spread out desire Wish for you to fall in love And live out your quirks I gave you my all Now watch me laugh forever Nothing else is left

The balky beggar is begging And I grant him my blessing His hat fills up with kindness So he soaks up the brightness I go to work I pass the beggar I repeat the process Two balky beggars are begging And I grant them my blessing Their hats fill up with kindness So they soak up the brightness I go to work I pass the beggars I repeat the process Three balky beggars are begging I am not in the mood for a blessing Their moanful eyes spot my rotten soul I never sympathized with them as a whole I go to work Hateful looks strike me My mask begins to crumble My leprous skin shines through I am an outcast in their view They still hide behind ide

Iceberg Lettuce Conspiracies Red pepper Entropy Almonds Trust issues Enchiladas Apathy Wine Original sins Rum Loss Dates Honey, don't forget the sugar and despair!

Thin and firm as a needle Is the peak I stand on. Below me all is equal. All the lives are long foregone. Above the towers clockwork I portray the lonely guard. Within my minds obscure murk Rests my spirit, battle-scarred, Basking on the bonfire flames Inside a rotten castle. It is bound with rusty chains And weakened from the battle. Whenever I leave my sheep To visit the bloodshed ruins, Of what once was a tough keep, And restore them with prudence I stop for the tattered man Who once was my will to fight. He recovers where it all began. Next to the flame's restricted might. He sends out a piercing glance And the arrow grazes my head T