The Little King,
Who ruled here for thirteen years,
Now reigns in the undiscovered country.
Restrictions keep him in the freezer,
Where he's
Lying in steak.

I've seen the future and now bear witness to what I've always known

Your love will be the death of me

And after they've buried my body, long and low, deep and dim
My spirit will rise to write verse again

I shall burst forth from this atmosphere
Far beyond this temporal sphere
To pen your name into eternity

©Jason Cole

when darkness falls upon my death
this heart is reaped
head laid to rest
do not weep
nor steep regret
you mustn't grieve a hollow chest

the calling of a soul to shed
all mortal sheaths
and specious breath
divinely deemed
a doom beset
by shadows of a hollow chest

as darkness breathes within our breast
our spirit clings
to walls of death
envisioning
a light bereft
imprisoned by a hollow chest

there's a certain song that's wept
within the halls
of sacrament
grief begone
and faith beget
freedom from a hollow chest

© Jason Cole

I am the very first drop of rain bringing the  storm
Let them tell you not that it's all  for nothing, I died for my home
my blood wasn't shed in vain, say not I went through needless pain
I died for the desperate impoverished and the hungry
for that young lad walking out his twentieth interview eyes deep in ocean tears
for that father nursing a broken backbone as his employer couldn't provide gears
laid off after his accident without a system to assist in seeking for compensation
for the child trekking seven miles to sit on a tree trunk and receive pitiful education
for my friend's inlaw who lost her baby, the few midwives at the hospital were swamped...
for a generation that haven't kissed the soft sweet lips of liberty
I died to overcome a leadership marred by corruption and greed
for the meager earnings and high interest rates on loans that are a basic need...
Did you see the yellow membrane of my affectionate brain scattered?
that is for the future of this young nation defiled and tattered,
an attempt to place an oxygen pump of reason when it really mattered
yes, I weeped when I was chocked and battered
but I died so that tomorrow can live to see what yesterday denied the moment
let them not disclose my memories in a grotesque manner for torment
for I am the ****** seed for the beautiful flower of our revolution
hoping to seed a unique country at harmony with her people
and the faith that even the most brutal of tyranny meets its dissolution
I am the red of our flag, my prayer is embedded deep in our fairy anthem
for albeit not all of us can be butchers not all of us are Chicken.
I am the optimistic crested crane flying on the long pole of great expectation
that someday this will all be but a nostalgic memory that does sicken.
My thick blood flows through those left in the struggle to bring true equality
so quit grieving, I am a sacrifice for fear, hurt and misery to stop being our true cost of living
I did not die for nothing if anything I died for everything
I died "For God and my country".