Howl from the deep.
All tremble like sheep.
What are these calls?
Ringing from within the vast lost halls.

Wind down these corridors filled with naught but webs.
Creepy crawlies skitter across every surface.
I know this place by reputation and that it was stained by death.
What I do not know is if ghouls will haunt my head.
But still I risk madness!

Creaks and groans call out from somewhere close by.
Are they manifestations or real, I can’t decide.
Either way I push forward further into these depths.
Banishing not so successfully the thoughts inside my head.
Will this be my tomb!

Seeing a light ahead I feel my chest tighten as I breathe.
Dancing with a gentle motion I approach real slow.
Heartbeat in my ears I fear every soundscape flow.
But when I reach the candle light there is nothing to fear.
Instead a wolf pup sits shivering until I draw near.
These moans were not some spectre returning to curse the living.
They were from this young one lost and seeking something.
Where its mother could have been I simply do not know.
But when I knelt beside the pup it leapt to me with a welcome crow.
From then on I had a friend always by my side.
Stark was and always has been a companion for life.
And those once feared halls now have been redeemed.
Proof that the past does not decide what’s yet to be.

Art at your fingertips sounds so cool.
Until you realise its just a tool.
For there is no finesse or artistry in entering random words and themes.
Everyone can do it but that misses the point.
Cause if all partake then individuality is aborted.
It becomes lines on a screen.
Deletes all of the meaning.
Could mean everything or nothing at all.
You can’t ask the creator cause they’re a tool.
Software written to make a buck.
People who see all others as shmucks.
In truth for many its a scam way to get rich.
Not a product to evolve and compliment.
If these words hurt then you are part of the disease.
Don’t want to work and improve until it comes with relative ease.
No, you just want to brag about what you didn’t do.
Take credit for stolen property that’s been remixed by you.
Yes that is what it truly is.
Theft of someone else’s talent.

Piece by piece I was put together.
Made from parts that were just left over.
Not my choice to be this way.
Its why some consider me a monster when they see me.
But does your appearance define who you are?
No! Its simply your outer shell configuration.

Polished to a shine I thought could not be.
My parts are superior than what I wished to see.
For so long I accepted I was ugly.
Truth of the matter is I needed some visual therapy.
Still does this appearance define who I am?
No! Its simply my outer shell configuration.

Sandblasted until I am all smooth.
Now everyone wants to be part of my groove.
Cheering my name as I walk by.
Waving oh so vigorously as if I am a deity from the sky.
Yet does my appearance define all I am?
No! But now its a true representation of what I’ve always been.

Comments made in the afterglow.
No, no I don’t know.
If where we’re headed is where we should go.
These are decisions that continue though.
With a head of iron and a chest of will.
Please not again will there be blood to spill.
As the hours switches to one past late.
I do so wish that won’t become our state.
Of serving only to disagree.
Building upon what used to be.
Leaving sense in a shallow grave.
Pretending we are all brave.
For I haven’t seen conviction in so long.
Instead there only seems to be more wrong.
With a hand of blood offered as a bargaining tool.
Its become too clear we are all just fools.
Dancing round a grave unmarked.
One soon that will contain our hearts.
Its a pit we all dug for free.
Sold our souls to fuel more misery.
So don’t pretend we are not the root.
Belief in that has since gone mute.
Revelation is something we threw to the curb.
Watch it end just so we can observe.
In a foreign frame with twisted mind.
Don’t quite remember when we were mankind.
That is dead, as are we and so we sit with this afterglow mentality.

Working five for two sounds like we’re getting screwed.
Pile up high papers until it becomes a mountain side.
So many tasks that you need to complete.
In the end you might have to work 9 days a week!

Where is the balance?
For too long and its wearing thin.
Something has gotta be changing.

Fifty years and you might get some time to enjoy your labours.
Though more likely you’ll be crippled by your days here.
Cause corporate greed has reached breaking point.
All they wanna do is keep taking your life!

Where is the balance?
For too long and its wearing thin.
Something has gotta be changing.

You might think us lazy or difficult to deal with.
Truth is we can’t keep accelerating our engagements.
We have one life and you don’t own it.
Get out our way or might will become vacant!
For our time is not owned by you.
We’re an employee and you need us too.
Remember that next time you try to exploit.
Otherwise perhaps we’ll leave this joint.
Watch you crumble like a tower of cards.
Cause all you’ve built are empires of use.
And we’re sick and tired of the abuse!

Where is the balance?
For too long and its wearing thin.
Something will soon be changing.

I’ve heard the rhetoric that comes with the dogma.
How you can bow and do as they’ve told ya.
But that isn’t peace or freedom to me.
Sounds more like oppression times by three.
And its the same no matter where you go.
Galaxy wide this empires a shitshow!

Troopers patrol with their weapons in hand.
Ready to dispel justice where innocents stand.
Yet so many think that this is the way.
Looks more like tyranny if you were to ask me.
Nobody does cause they are all too afraid.
Worried a visit will see their family slayed!

From a world with twin suns to a city wide planet.
What looms over head is not our true senate.
Peace was replaced by threats to conform.
Most of the time you’ll wish you’d never been born.
As propaganda drones everywhere that you go.
Demanding allegiance to a man we don’t know!

We are victims by choice and our cowardice.
If freedom was missed then we would rise against this.
But safety and security has become our shield.
Even if they are fallacy that isn’t ideal.
For utter dominance and power is said to be what surrounds.
Step out of line and those destroyer cannons soon sound!

Pick apart reasons that you put forth.
Forever after a citizen without a cause.
I know staying in one place makes you weep.
Before too long you fear you’d become a sheep.

Roots are not compromising.
Pressure does not always thrive in…

Build these walls, arm your defences.
Time to see this phoenix rise with grey intentions!

So speak but know you must also listen.
Upon these stones some will Christian.
Mark set days that never stay still.
Yet somehow these are all events over which we should spill…

Blood on the ground.
Leashed like a hound.
Kept in rhythm and in check.
You like them are all suspect.
Yet here you stand.

Why not be the one who does command?
Rather than be a puppet.
Tell these zealots to simply, shut it!

Roots are not compromising.
Pressure does not always thrive in…
War!
Cut it off and let it go raw.
It is not needed any more.

Sick of the falter and of the scene.
Time to vent out your spleen.

For too long you’ve wanted hell, fire and damnation.
No thought for what that might entail.
Homicidal focus you refuse to curtail.
Ambition strapped across your back.
Sights set on crushing those who…

Do not agree.
Turning on thee.
Determined and free.

With all this sick observation.
Breeding hate alongside temptation.

War in full swing and you are smiling too wide.
Clear this marriage of destruction puts stars in your eyes.
Yet all those bodies mean nothing to you.
For you have added to them too.
Its why you’re filled with pride!

Experimental fix that carries no weight.
All you aim to do is contaminate.
Force your lies that you call truths,
Over the top of others points of view.

Do not agree.
Turning on thee.
Determined and free.

With all this sick observation.
Breeding hate alongside temptation.

Paved with gold wearing a smile of green.
Clearly you are naive beyond the supreme.
Unable to fathom as diktats come for you.
Frightened until you are but a living statue.

Juggling moments with a quiet cry.
All around you these people are willing to spy.
Sell you out and box you up.
Every neighbour would rat you out to get the contents of your cup.
Drain it dry then move on.
No remorse lingers under their sun.
Pity is reserved for the weak and woeful.
Hence why they default to being spiteful.
With a hint of cyanide sown beneath thick skin.
They are forever your soon to be desolation.

Count those crows.
Its all a lie.
Don’t conform and pretend,

That crucifixion is where you wish to be.
While witches and warlocks vie among the pines.
You learn how cruel others can truly be.
Everyone sees your innocence turn to heresy.

No longer do these streets shine so bright.
Your face is twisted especially in the dead of night.
They got their wishes but now they retreat.
No longer will you suffer a defeat.
Armed for war and prepared for worse.
You will show them how you are now a curse.
Tear through homes like a maelstrom.
Resistance will be a failed form of income.
As their crooked cities crumble beneath your fists.
Those ruins enveloped by debris cloud mists.

Washed out golden stretches in every direction.
Broken only by dark voids where ground is cracking.
Parched and starved of life but me.
I trudge across these undulations weakly.
Beating sun cooking me out of my skin.
Dehydrated and stumbling.

Worn down so I am unable to stand.
This surface is baked, boring and infuriatingly bland.
Burns across my hands from its touch.
Been going for a while but it’ll soon be too much.
Pace slowing to barely even a crawl.
Death knocking like a clarion call.

Then skies darken and rain pours.
Relief as I collapse like a corpse.
Smiling and laughing as the sands turn wet.
Never would I have bet.

When again I feel I can move once more.
The sight I find is nothing like it was before.
For there are colourful blooms all around.
Through those dark cracks they found,
A way to burst forth and open up.
Creating a view worth almost perishing for.