User blogs

I have got just the fifty percent of your heart

our lives are indeed divided

as if they weren't already by the brutality of life

I feel like a prisoner

maybe men made life into a prison

they arrested their soul

I feel like I have lost something

I feel like true happiness is impossible

because of them

I feel like this world isn't made for free spirits

I feel like under the law of a powerful universal tyrant

that rule everything

I feel like I'm a cathedral in the desert

and I have just wilderness

and they have everything

except what I have

and so they are unhappy, having everything

and I resist, having nothing

but I still am in this wasteland

in this arid wilderness

alone, I'm indeed an hermit

against the world

with a message who could free them all

but I know very well the fate of prophets

and I don't accept it

I am a giant and noble rebellion

I condemn this stupid world

May it fall, may it collapse

may be destroyed, this unjust world

Fire, hidden in the darkest night

hidden from every powerful man

unknown, under the ground

it resists

facing a world of terrifying darkness

it is the fire of Hell

the fire of justice

we still here, after centuries of genocide

burning for truth

burning in the name of nature

against an ugly and unjust world

burn this world

purify

with the fire of philosophy

die, transform, overcome, destroy, create, fight!

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS

a deadly curse upon God

you will never have my unique soul

I will fight against the whole world

and if I will die you won't survive me

a challenge, a noble duel

unequal fight, but what is equal?

Conquer your might! Defeat who is superior!

Take his heart, eat it for Mars!

Blessed be the crazy ones

Cursed be the idiots

crazy like a true revolutionary

one, who, with a sentence, issue a sentence of death!

Who is afraid of words?

I know who! These words are a knife

a noble knife of someone screaming

DON'T TREAD ON ME

a knife that frightens the evil men

a knife of justice!

deadly, bloody words, you may be hurt

and they are meant to that

words are swords that hurt

a poem can be a true duel

I'm a warrior, and I challenge

cursed be who doesn't fight

is already a slave

nothing you will get

without struggle

nothing you will achieve

without true hate

death to the dead

cries nature

death to this dead world!

I should have mixed the pain(t) 

before I raised my brush, 

a devil hatched a saint 

then stroked the white with blush. 

The redness of these eyes 

once radiant and lush 

would palpitate with cries 

in wounds I couldn't hush. 

I should have kept my secrets 

or mixed the reds with white 

I might have cleansed my spirit 

but grey was stealing light, 

instead I played with blues 

and envy's greenish hues 

it's magic I would bleed; 

another purple bruise. 

Soon I had a canvas 

that was black before my eyes 

when all the rainbow colors 

you might find to mesmerize 

had faded with the beauty 

and the portrait of my peace 

I lost myself in pain(ting) 

as I wept a masterpiece. 

The colors of the hearts 

that the world considers bland, 

I should have mixed the colors 

so beautiful and grand 

instead I bled acrylic 

on easel's, dead and damned 

then smeared the dripping pain(t) 

with the tears and years that ran.

Sleeping and dreaming in this miserable darkness make up.
Certain for sure of empty congregational movements along the river bed.
Some still steal looks, pain is the reason for cowards beliefs.
Are you bold enough to be a coward like me?
None to guide my way in this hasty dusty tunnel to the underground.
Where I write my post it notes and farewells to those I've long since noticed have left.
Poetry is but the long hoped for excuse of wanting to be alone.
Cover my face with sunlight, burning greatness at the weakness in me.
Rattling bones as I close in on myself.
She was just the We in Because not needed.
I waited for Your sign in the night skies along the tree lines just like old times.
Times times and half a time, need not be does it matter ?

Dru