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The Ruins of a Faded Life

Along the echoes, past the icy shores. Dreams of a longing going unrequited. You made your bets and came up short. Here he is, the golden child. Seeking bitterness out of the ruins of a faded life. Bowing to the music from another temple. He dreams of iconic nights in a sheen of paper dust. Watch the film roll and watch it all burn. Anxiety forms in the secret shadows, the faucet drips of a secret amnesia etching out familiar words to the former sacred mind. Disintegrating memories of compassion in a lifeless world. Business comes, business calls. Tomorrow's vendetta is last week's sense of dread. But hop in to think out for solutions in the week ahead. If death was the answer, it would have been too good. After all, how fortunate it is for me to want anything at all.

Reign of Tormentors (No Life Back)

In an effort, what was it for? An open dream, that became empty! Demoralised by a ceaseless attack. When it becomes clearer that we're no nearer to making this better. Idealists can only go so far when perfectionists get overzealous.  There's no life back anymore. There's no heart. There's no desire. There's no dream, there's no ideal. There's no life back anymore. Impotent rage is all there is misdirected at every stage. Doctors won't make you feel better. Take your medicine before they decide to change it. Underestimate every single thing because they who play god, calls the shots.  Meditative music cures the buyer's lifetime remorse. Create an ambience that fuels a secret shelter. But this isn't definitive and it shouldn't really last as such. Forever moving the goalposts in an effort to save their skin but not yours. It doesn't matter if you try to talk about it, your words will be easily manipulated. After all you can't even be s...

Life In The Dark

Don't reflect on the past they said. It won't help you along the way. Damages your health. Images are a perfect time capsule. A slight of hand to remember when the mind and the body are no longer in sync. You may be here today, but the memory that hurt you years ago still rattles with thorns with every turn. I don't know where to go, I don't know how you feel. The empathies of charlatans to sell their wares under snake skin oil. Another tension in the light of past glories. If the supposed best years of your life weren't all that great, what use will the rest of it be? You had to deal with a stalker which turned out to be your own memory but she was there - that's so you! If the light goes out, live life in the dark. Your denial will pay the price.

Mental Disintegration

You may know it all in the scene. The familiar drain that washes over your skin. I wondered why I live in dread when I feel as though I'm harassed at every turn. The mental disintegration was perfect. I could've cried like a child. You knew my weakness and exploited it after every loss. Financial gain - it's always the same. Do we need to live in pain? The pills punch and kick. How come I missed a trick or two knowing you'd hide all there is.  Haunted by flashbacks. 20 years of horrors. A controlling interest and a silly little boy who's ruined your projections. The mental disintegration was perfect. I could've died as I dialled. I lived in bahnhofs and dined on cheap chicken and pasta. Where journeys go on pure voices if projections are to be believed. The time was spent - did you receive or deceive? Years alone and nestle through forests, woodlands and chimes. Remembrance is cruel but the torment is insatiable. You created replicas to dine on the feast of bad ...

Memory (It all seems so childish)

Worn down. A man mired in treacle.  You may remind me when my eyes sting and the light keeps them closed.  Was there any difference when the pain disappears but you can't breathe? The thought of a love denied reminds me of a broken heart. Stronger medication required dedication in the certain knowledge You would have revelled in constant conflict. She is not to be denied even in denial. The fireworks destroy my mental façade, Even when I'm close to regret. The only memories you cherish are the ones of private fantasies Your bones wither in the memory of it all Muscle memory relinquishes at the thought That you would enjoy destroying a person in love. 1, 2, 3, 4  The psychological beatings that he's taken 5, 6, 7, 8 So many believe that he's faking 9, 10, 11, 12 He isn't breaking, he's broken Here's a token of our esteem. It all seems so childish

Syndicate To Medicate (Something Has To In The End)

Shadows and whispers in time. Replicating every move that I've made in a lifetime of regret. Meditating from the grooves of sorrow that perhaps I should have forgotten. Tomorrow is another day to make the circumstances change in physiological demands. And what is your command? Breathing is almost equal to the task but the pathways are empty. It's tempting to see what would have happened had we decided not to break down to a husk of a shell. Bloated from the lies I feed myself on. Whether they're mine or not doesn't matter. They're all part and parcel of the same thing I wanted to be a part of. But like some cartoon villain my plans were thwarted even if they were not evil at all.  Antagonised arguments only exacerbate feelings. They've been left ragged and raw for years. A syndicate to medicate. I don't know where these things lie anymore. I don't know what's good for me, I just know that you'll make it worse if you had continued your way.  The h...

Impersonal Response

Frequence and destruction. The damage is complete. The resources are endless from the trails of human reproduce. Shadows of light become a source of paranoia. Pain seeping into the eyes. Photophobic realities. Impersonal response, the dream lingers on. You're my nightmare. I can still recall memories with pinpoint accuracy. A micromanaged shell of human hostility. Cult developments on dehumanised platforms. Your health is my money and time's not worth wasting if it can be economised. Impersonal response, the dream lingers on. You're my nightmare. Spirulina tea with red fennel and ginseng supplements. Carbon footprints that would shame environmentalists. If he's ineffective, play the jilted lover and abuse him with out-of-hours texts describing all he did wrong. Impersonal response, the dream lingers on. You're my nightmare. A nightmare that lingers on in my damaged state.