Changes

The mind is adept at its own pretence
When a foreseeable ending claws at its sense
Rapid spate of change is hard to allow
Crystal clear thoughts deviate from the brow
An uncontrolled destined moment in time
Perspectives of honesty bring up the divine
Amnesiac spaces previous and after
Brings the transition not nearer nor faster

Change sparks defence to raise fully clad
Denial, like a sane man humouring the mad
A rapid such ending wretches the soul
Pulls what we possess to never let go
Our sleepless gut instinct repulses the last
Repelling an echo of struggles near past
For even the efficient an ending feels strange
A limbo state not desiring to change

An unconscious unknown steadily beckons
Lifetime of intake, although its just seconds
Confusion is ripe though doesn’t persist
Without endings your presence wouldn’t exist
On ponder a moment which presents a choice
An alternate view to retain a lost voice
Reflect to proceed, an perceptive mind wins
Determine an ending, is where a new first begins.

Stitches

When asleep

It’s peace as in death

No dreams or feeling

Nothing.

Surgery sends the mind

To limbo

Breathing though vacant in thought.

Split second coma

Opens the conscious

Letting the present seep out

Keeping pain away.

Fate in surgeons hands

The fear dying in silent mystery

Surrender myself to a higher power

I am yours to mend or destroy.

Awoken by strangers after long hours

Wiping free the blood from stains

Of the stitches which tell the story

Why metal was wrapped around veins.

Look

I see images
Far away from personal space
Hiding in the shadows.
The corner of my eye
Feels movement,
Natural reflexes spin wildly,
On sighted
A shape
Transforms with haste
Back to benign.

Something insidious is watching
Rousing my senses
Alerting my suspicions.
Paranoia becomes a suspect
Though clean living proves
The mind is all powerful and complex
When left to wander freely
And without forced encouragement.

When will the process erupt
From viewing shapes
To hearing voices,
I’m scared I’ll answer
Scared of its suggestions
Of convincing me to believe
They exist in life not just my reality.
I see images elevate back from the dead
Convincing my mind
It’s not just, all in my head

Ascending

Colluding to time and age
Acting Complicit, dimming the rage,
The fist of anger and damnation
Slamming down, smashing shame
With frustration,
No sleep interrupts constant processing
Of survival,
Plan A plays out to normality and failure
Premature death subscribes maps to the mind,
Once written that’s where pain lies,
Blood behind the eyes
Talking blind,

Mumble of a foreign language
Where demons understand the cry
Of a fallen Angel,
No more to question why,
Give in lawfully to the bonds
That seek havens of wrist and foot,
Just change my love, easier to submerge
With the thorns,
Accept crown of horns,
Release pain, succumb to relief,
Let eyes view stars that dance in the mist,
Sleep my dear, and life will seep
Like falling blood purifying the wrist.

My Generation

Between the lines the whispers seek solice
Gratitude of time to be heard,
Only believers feel the undercurrent,
A background humm instigating alternatives
Revealing variations of living,
Walking to rather then standing still,

As a species we live sad
Of the impending eventuality who awaits us,
Our conscious pulls to fearing wait of death,
Dragging down certain minds
Forcing own hands
Bringing forward their premature demise,
Listen to the unconscious reasoning
That deduces this gift should be praised,

We have no say in birth or death
Our only control succeeds as we grow
A Choice to dictate character with emotion,
The advice buried in our soul lays active
Expanding the mind reveals the signs,
Live life blinded in black and white
Or thrive in the wonderment that breathes,
Between the lines.

Doppelganger

Out of body experiences doubt my existence
Feeling in limbo, questioning propaganda
Choices agreed but not remembered
Losing sanity slowly to a doppelganger

Familiar face reflects my smile
Eyes deep of black radiating trouble
Words speaks my voice to society’s nods
I’m the only conscience, seeing this flawed double

Mind stays guarded from being watched
In my dreams his courage grows to speak
Explains my character will be invaded
Though if he bleeds I bleed

Only in the mirror I can ask for mercy
The answer sincerely will be the same
That my tainted fracture soul will soon vanish
And only my demon, will remain.