Displacement

This world is so much noise.
As girls are girls, boys are boys.
This feeling eats away at my heart, preventing sleep.
As I spend long nights with eyes open in silent weep.

I cannot bear the pain much longer.
Although I know I cannot be any wronger.
We drew the lines of our terms in open, washed-out sand.
Craning our heads as we listen to our personal favorite band.

Dotting my eyes with the panacea of their red.
Thinking the very worst our feelings can dread.
Pulsing waves of nausea encircle my weary body.
When and why did our love become ever so shoddy?

I've no one but myself to fall back on in this dark time.
Hoping it won't be long until our plans once more intertwine.
The resounding words of revival are now a rarity.
So much that every night I'm unable to achieve absolute clarity.

This Wanderer

This wanderer is very far away from his old home.
He obtained vast amounts of time.
This wanderer sought neither word nor tome.
And so continues his endless climb.

This wanderer persists and never quits.
Believed he wants it all to end.
This wanderer is at the end of his wits.
Thus can he only wander once again.

This wanderer hopes with every fiber of his being.
He prays that everything will be fine.
This wanderer sung every song there is to sing.
Waiting long days for this to unwind.

This wanderer will always continue to wander.
Never coming to a complete and final stop.
This wanderer will always continue to ponder.
Rubbing beads of sweat with no last drop.

Lost Extraterrestrial

In the control room the world's quite a view.
I see vibrant deserts from a sky oh-so-blue.
The people down below are fighting.
Is violence really all that inviting?

There are many people with many weapons.
They've been fighting since last night at eleven.
My people watch in bewilderment of such rage.
We wonder if this planet is at a 3rd world stage.

With such primitive technology blood is shed.
Quite unlike our own world where crime is dead.
Though we came with absolute peace in mind.
It's probably better we leave this world behind.

Our society has no place for humans so savage.
Where thirty thousand deaths are mere average.
It's been years since I've returned to my hearth.
Today I wonder whatever became of planet Earth?

White Chalk

At the limit of my sobriety,
Removal of simple variety,
I can hear the bells faintly in the distance.
Entertaining the Reaper at the final instance.

I fight to contain the corruption within.
Begging for the mercy from those I sin.
Ding dong, the boat floats across the River Styx.
Ding dong, it has now arrived just for sad kicks.

Swallowing and drowning in shallow sorrow,
Hoping I'll get pulled out for air tomorrow,
Hacks and slashes mark my tattered self.
As I return the tools of labor to the wooden shelf.

Wretched Adams pay for their own Hell.
Yet these days I can only hear the same bell.
While I sit here and do nothing but talk,
Others happily proclaim love in white chalk.

The Way The World Ends

Blessed be the knights of old
Into the fires to which you behold
Original standard for the prophet's word.
Waste away mammal, reptile, and pretty bird.

Fixation is the new sign of remembrance.
Despite our own slightest bit of evidence.
It all falls apart in the blink of an eye.
And so we all know Revelation is nigh.

Stopped all modern warfare and fighting.
Stopped all feral shooting and biting.
We've forgotten our purpose beyond amends.
And that is exactly the way the world ends.