masks of blind and fool

it is, by far, our greatest desire
to live and die by a rule of fire,
to love all of our hurting foes
and ease all their restless woes.

how grand our names shall be
if our goodness others can see,
if we fail to commit a mistake
our wickedness will never wake.

worry not that weary heart,
it might never be torn apart,
it can not withstand danger
nor the love of a caring stranger.

lest we speak of distant lands,
death is carried by sparking sands,
death is a void we need not fear
for someday we'll call it dear.

empty promises they have made,
but then they ran and never paid,
but it is no matter we pretend
while we curse that vile friend.

how we like the puppet girl
and her legs that twist and twirl,
and her voice calling by name
doesn't feel at all like shame.

may our lives be full and long
while the mask is never wrong,
while we stand above them all
on the edge of a paper thin wall.

no beauty in a beast

there once was a beast,
an ugly beast of a man,
terrifying to the bone
and he lived all alone.

people would scream
calling him a monster,
so he decided to flee
to his castle by the sea.

during the thunderstorms
he could not sleep,
he'd stare the looking-glass
as time couldn't pass.

the wind whooshed,
he sat and listened
to that ancient song,
kept playing for so long.

there was no answer,
nobody to question,
but he'd cry out why
into the storm in the sky.

a strange man emerged,
before the dusty mirror,
each night again
as he grew insane.

then silence came
with intent to last,
the words were cruel
and the man no fool.

he gazed at the man
and he knew him,
but just couldn't see
that the beast was he.

when the lady came
he sent her away,
because a beast he was
and scare is what he does.

an atrocious being
all of them made him
and a planted guilt
in him was built.

but he was no demon,
let me assure you,
even if unpleasant
in the past and present.

no truer beasts exist,
all them scattered around,
as friends that pretend
and stab you in the end.

a dream of a dream

i had a horrid vision of my demise,
my flesh was torched and ripped,
my bones were sold as a hunter's prize
so only void would fill my crypt.

they sent reapers in angel's wings
to stop terror from taking me over
as i'd watch them crooked beings
disguised as my one true lover.

my neck was punctured fiercely
by their ragged wicked claws,
my organs were torn scarcely
and no one recognized who i was.

as i gasped for one more breath
there was only one of whom i thought
and it was enough to savor death
before my shards began to rot.

i remember holding a smile
mocking what was bestowed upon me
without a chance to go to trial
and perform my humiliating plea.

my heart was carefully spared
to suffocate for times on end,
to be pointed at and stared
and into the flames of hell descend.

still i carried my lover's eye
caged in my fading memory,
so i could just ask her why
she'd punish me with treachery.

then i woke to a painful grudge
and kissed my lover's cheek,
because i loved her just too much
i killed her. i am weak.

the moral of my story

in my life, i made but one mistake that i regret so.
that of being born, of course.