Where are you, O valiant knight,
riding on your quest?
Capturing your deadly foe,
your metal for to test...

O'r the mountains lies the dragon,
secure within its lair.
It's gloating over victory...
it ate the maiden fair!

And so you mount your steed,
silver glinting from your spurs,
sally off to slay it...
avenge the death of her!

Oh! Is not this dragon beautiful?
Yes! An AWESOME prize!
With crystal wings and citron scales
and sapphires for eyes!

Emeralds on its sloping breast
rubies are its claws
fangs of alabaster
line it's fiery maw...

Perfumed incense, spicy smoke,
from its mouth a butane flame...
Once you've tried the dragon once
it is hell to tame!

Have you your armor fast secured?
Does the visor block your view?
You may chase the dragon
or it could be chasing YOU.

When will you turn and rend it?
Tear the ***** APART?
Strap your lance to your steed
and pierce it to its HEART?

Now, if you are victorious
you still must have a care...
for its blood is virulent
that cup you must not share!

You could quick behead it.
Mount it on your wall.
But it could poison you instead...
my! How the mighty fall!

So ride off in the sunset.
Leave the dragon where it fell.
It will slowly rust away...

and blow back into HELL.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/19/2015

I went to the window
I saw your soul of night
there was no flicker of a flame
no redeeming light

I went to the window
the dragons that I saw
had red, green and glowing eyes
were hideously flawed

I went to the window
I watched, but didn't care
that you struggled every day
that you were in despair

I went to the window
I saw you in the glass
but I didn't pray for you
I thought, "this, too, shall pass..."

I went to the window
and thought with a frown
"this person of iniquity
is surely going down..."

I went to the window
oh, what did I see?
that window was a mirror

the person there was ME.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/14/2015

a butterfly caked with dust
a cathedral black as rust
an **** of satanic lust
but who, O fool, can you entrust?

you prance and sneer, put on a frown
call Believing people stupid clowns
in moors with bogs to drag you down
a place of darkness where you drown.

Marilyn Manson had his kicks
devil's music, Satan's licks
laugh, say Jesus is for hicks
ignore the goads, ignore the ******.

we're all worked up? in a stew?
while you scream like skewered shrews?
kohl your eyes with blackest goo
party's in hell?

THE JOKE'S ON YOU.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/13/2015

I wish to write of softer things
Hands shake, hate in my veins.
Pen pressed to paper,
Red ink, scribbling empty words

Repeating, repeating, repeating
Hate, hate, hate

Heart weighed by tons
Baggage, carried, gathered, found
Books scattered across the floor
Unfinished, left open.

Struggling, I cannot
Bring myself to... move on
Close them, my library
Clean house, write a new story.

One day, these words,
Will find meaning, create hope.
Cleanse the monster, the one
Torturing  my restless soul.

Tilt my world upside down
Take me to the fair
Cotton candy almost gone
Clowns do not care

Put me on the wooden horse
Spin me round and round
Up, down, turn it off
Carousel, I am bound

Get me off this wounded ride
No more stop and go
Blurry vision sinking in
Say it isn't so

Tortured mind, black my heart
Cancel out this game
Carousel is not fun
Nothing left to blame

three woke this morning

to empty beds
empty sails
and empty days

one woke with certainty
one woke in turmoil
and one woke with tortured hope

...and that may make all the difference.

... compare war stories
and overanalyze the depth of your scars...