purgatory
All life is penance,
trial for the sin of entropy,
the fuel of life is menace,
the living need the dead to feed.
living on the top soil,
means the fight to stay above,
fleeting joy and constant toil,
and constant sinking in the mud.
there is only transfer in death,
though dying holds a sting,
for living is just theft,
from every dying thing.
but stealing life is truth,
for every day there’s less.
and if stealing is the price of breath,
than it’s stealing that is best.
So while
eat the world (needs work)
I want to eat the world,
to swallow whole the fat,
to pound my form into the clay,
grind opposition flat.
I want to see the heights,
and lay the giants low,
to stand inside the mighty river,
and then reverse its flow.
I want to build a an obelisk,
ten million miles high,
then I want to jump,
and dominate the sky.
I want to bend the earth,
to harness magma flow,
to channel mighty power
for forming fates below.
and when I do these things
When my mass spans all divides,
I’ll laugh at all mortality,
and look Gods in the eye.
Lesser beings will quake,
as I thunder by,
all enemies I make,
ruthlessly pacified.
sitting golden with my queen,
atop an ivory throne
pondering the power,
possessed by me alone.
I do not care the damage done
nor how high are the stakes,
I’ll never rest nor feel content
my destiny awaits.
Paradise
In quiet desperation,
watching seeping life force glow,
leaking excess passion,
joining greater flows.
Weep for your apocalypse,
your unconstructed reich,
weep for all your selfishness,
weep for uncaused strife.
instead sit in incandesce,
wage slave at the heel,
you wanted domination,
but you’re broken on the wheel.
but in that tragic breaking
a baleful truth unveils
there’s misery in greatness
there’s joy among the fails.
rejoice in tiny roles,
your spark amongst the sun,
and watch the greater molecules
sacrifice their hydrogen.
while you, a tiny weakling,
show know your woman’s arms
hear your children’s laughing tinkling
and stand happy while disarmed
No comments:
Post a Comment