The Fall Of Balthazar Rochester

I wasn’t born for war or to serve at its feet.
My life was meant to be success not defeat.
That was until corruption rolled in to town.
Upon its head sat the black barbed crown.
Hands skeletal just like his smile.
While his eyes did nothing but haunt and revile.
For man he was not though he wore such a veil.
And when he talked his voice proved he was not frail.
Cause acidic vitriol is all which spewed from his gob.
All while he cursed each and every poor adult sod.
Made them writhe with a flick of his wrist.
Until finally one eighty all their heads did twist.
From then to now I recall all those screams.
Muted and cut short as were their dreams.
And since that day I have endured.
Turned all that madness into something not flawed.
Which is why I stand atop his dead form.
Bathed in glory now that he is lifeless and gone.
Yet for adoration I did not rise against.
Rather it was for I was incensed.
Determined to put an end to the misery in which he drenched.
And still not enough to make him feel quenched.
For he was a demon in the sickest of skin.
Thankfully in the end he fell to my blade, Pin.

Finality In Throes

Trapped, locked up, nullified.
No longer can I hold my bride.
Memories fading like my eyes.
Soon I’ll meet the great divide.

If only tales were parallel with truth.
Then maybe I might once more drink proof.
But alas such is not so.
And its far too late to go.
For hours are whittled.
Bones have become brittle.
So leave me here to hear my death song.
I welcome my end but hope for my enemies Armageddon.

Weakened, dispelled, nullified.
Let those bastard drown in high tide.
Hope has dwindled unlike their cries.
Welcome autocrats to the downfall of your pride.

If only tales were parallel with truth.
Then maybe I might once more drink proof.
But alas such is not so.
And its far too late to go.
For hours are whittled.
Bones have become brittle.
So leave me here to hear my death song.
I welcome my end but hope for my enemies Armageddon.

Putrid festering force they call divinity.
Stripped out sense and unbridled civility.
Replaced by devotion to an unjust set of hands.
The kind that occupy themselves with scams.
Wrenching life from those deemed unworthy.
All while turning innocence to perversity.
That’s why this flood cannot come soon enough.
For under it their bodies will be wholly crushed.

If only tales had been parallel with truth.
Then maybe I might have drunken proof.
But alas such was not so.
And its far too late to now go.
For hours are whittled away.
Bones have become brittle wholly.
So leave me here to hear my death song.
I welcome my end but smile at Armageddon.

Choices Not Everyone Are So Lucky To Possess

Duty bound to defend my home.
And whoever may now sit upon its throne.
Its been so long since I left that I haven’t the foggiest.
All I wish is that they are true.
Prepared to protect and serve right through.
Its all I ask while I’m at war.
Cause for a tyrant I could not pour…
My soul into even a single battle.
For that would be most unjust.
Yet if I did my heart would be crushed.
As my home has been free for a thousand years.
To learn that’s been broken would reduce me to tears.
Turn warm blood colder than ice.
Saying I’d be sundered would not even suffice.
But such has not reached where I am.
So I conclude that my home still does stand.
And that is why I continue to battle.
Ensure my kin will never suffer the shackle.
I’ve seen it before and it is no kind of life.
Many would rather meet the point of a knife.
I think too that would be me.
Which is why I am illuminated to be educated and free.

Unravelling

Walk in the wisps out beyond the bay.
What in this world remains for me!
Calculate trajectory then take suffering away.
Not where I am supposed to be!

These circles are shedding but I am not wedding.
Give pay to fools who writhe in shallow waters.
For down in the depths where crooks cannot swim.
There are nightmares that are forever hunting.
Are these mere stories or fact turned to tale?
No way of knowing as moonlight once more does sail.

Crawl through canvas until paint is fresh.
Zero to hero is the truest of test!
Face pressed up against that rusted old mesh.
For the wicked and cursed there is no rest!

These circles are shedding but I am not wedding.
Give pay to fools who writhe in shallow waters.
For down in the depths where crooks cannot swim.
There are nightmares that are forever hunting.
Are these mere stories or fact turned to tale?
No way of knowing as moonlight once more does sail.

Unintelligible.
No more miracle.
Infection spreading.
Befouling the bedding.
Town turns to ruin.
Then county turns to ash.
Within a year the continent may crash.
Be left as a relic,
Ruin for generations to come.
That is if a few souls survive this massacre run.

No More Games (We Won’t Play Anymore)

All you want is more dominion.
Forever giving your own opinion.
Pushing on others beliefs that are yours.
Make it sound like all that matters is your cause.
But without allies you won’t get through.
Instead your adversaries will be coming for you.

So make a choice.
Stand or flee.
Will you be fighting rather than cowering freely?
I doubt your conviction that you claim to hold.
Pretty sure you’d rather be alive in the cold.

Judgement is rendered for crimes you commit.
To be honest you are full of it.
Not a solitary word you speak is true.
These are all the ravings from a current point of view.
Changes like the wind and thats why you fail.
If you picked a path then maybe you might prevail.

Choose a route.
Don your suit.
Rather than flip flop like a brainless newt.
Writhing in public like some kind of fool.
The sort that is nothing without people to use as a tool.

Head in the clouds.
No one is proud.
You are a stain.
Always to blame.
Rotten and rude.
Obsessed with whats lewd.
Drunken and disorderly.
Mistakes more than quarterly.

Brick to the head.
Better off dead.
Should be confined to your cell of a bed.
For you are trouble without reprieve.
Which is why we all just wish you would leave!

Demon Icon

Demon icon of cleansing fire.
Ifrit! Ifrit!
Your strength will never expire.

Heralded beast from the blackest tomes.
Forgotten by the masses when they fell to bones.
Yet that loss did not stop myth from ever becoming true.
For it was fated that you would rise anew.
Scorch this rot from every corner of the land.
You are the one true firebrand!

Demon icon of cleansing fire.
Ifrit! Ifrit!
Your strength will never expire.

Impossible entity that should not be.
Born back into this world to wipe out such barbarity.
With a reign of flame that cannot be matched.
It burns so hot that it can’t be dispatched.
Which is why you are seen as a symbol of hope.
Born to make the unworthy choke.

Demon icon of cleansing fire.
Ifrit! Ifrit!
Your strength will never expire.

Endless might stacked into forever form.
Lets see them stand against you when they glimpse you storm…
Forth and tear a hole right through our crumbling sky.
Raise their greed filled capital with a single cry.
For they were fools who could not see…
That hellfire would bring an end to their insanity.

Demon icon of cleansing fire.
Ifrit! Ifrit!
Your strength will never expire.

Final Fantasy

Dreamed so long you have fallen to ash.
Its a one way ticket in which you go crash.
This is truth not some elaborate lie.
And all of it while some psycho is screaming, die!
Can you hear the monsters as they bang at your doors?
They take what they want regardless of your laws.
With a hypocritical withered smile.
Strip away any chance at a lifestyle.
For what is your boon is their envy.
Rain down with this final fantasy.

Warped by acid tongues dripping with glee.
They claim their actions will help set you free.
If you believe that you’ll trust any who lives.
Just don’t be surprised when their support gives.
Sends you to the depths of emberless crows.
That darkened pit where only death grows.
For these are crimes of brutality.
Dripping with signs of infidelity.
With harlots armed and ready to kill.
Fnal fantasy ends with a blood spill.

Wretched and ruined for those in their prime.
Now that they are forced down into grime.
For civilians are pawns to be exploited and used.
Ignoring how their rights are being abused.
They are cattle to help lure in the wolves.
All so your lackies can execute the desperate woth tools.
Using no remorse or sense of mercy.
So we will skip right to curse me.
Seperating kings bodies from heads.
Final fantasy died in their beds.

Dreamscapes

I fell into a reverie.
It was the start of what was meant to be.
Spinning skies and singing stars.
In these places there are no bars.
Just whatever I dream will come to pass.
No meteoric catastrophe crash.
A place where I am always happy.
Not having to defend myself against people oh so crappy.
What a relief, change of pace.
To not to have to deal with any who are two faced.
It becomes a burden that bores to bear.
Unlike these spaces of fantastical affair.
Where chickens chat and food is a plenty.
I have more than enough for lifetimes times twenty.
A state of being that you can barely grasp.
And in all these rays I can forever bask.
Kick back and enjoy the ride.
Not feel my brain become extra fried.
Oh what a place is this reverie.
A set of realms where my mind is truly free.

No Return To Eden

Tendrils wrapped around my heart.
Feel the crushing of my ribs start.
Eyes slide closed and I imagine…
I see that paradise which I am seeking.
Serene perfection withoit any flaws.
I taste the unfetid air and pause.
Drink in the feelings it births in me.
Return to Eden, for its where I wish to be.

But it went down in flames.
Shredded by madness and obsession.
For dominion was the pursuit.
And in real life there is no reboot.

Serpents dance as if filled with joy.
Did the animal kingdom know this was a ploy?
Who’s to say for we cannot know.
Unravelled and demolished by our hand.
What remains are but the crumbled stones of sand.
Mockery of what might have been.
If only butchery had not been our thing.
Alas our paradise has fallen and died.
For such a loss we all have felt that pain alive.

It went down in flames.
Shredded by madness and obsession.
For dominion was the pursuit.
And in real life there is no reboot.

Divergent

Politeness has become a mask for pain.
Suck it up and hit reset on this rigged little game.
If you think I’m lying test your luck.
Though don’t be surprised when you’re hit by a truck.
Fed to crows yet made to watch.
Remembered as little more than a blotch.
For days of heroism have long since passed.
Now everyone just wants to put eachother on blast.

Insincerity is the pinnacle interaction.
If you try anything else you’ll engagement will be a fraction.
Sad state of affairs when hate is king.
Who would’ve thought that would ever be a thing?
Not me for I reckoned we’d burst into ash.
Go out in a spitting flash.
Alas such an end was not meant to be.
Its why we’re fading out in contorted misery.

Fanned the flames until they bit.
Kicked up the dust and filled our eyes with grit.
What a way to go down with the ship.
Not even a finger left with some grip.
Rather we sold out souls to the lowest bidder.
Fitting then we’ve been labelled quitter.
After all bitterness has becone our star.
We even gave it the title of eternal tsar.

Cracked deep, split through.
Internal fault, spitting glue.
Unravel hard, shatter fast.
No future here, fractured past.

Politeness has become a mask for pain.
Suck it up and hit reset on this rigged little game.
If you think I’m lying test your luck.
Though don’t be surprised when you’re hit by a truck.
Fed to crows yet made to watch.
Remembered as little more than a blotch.
For days of heroism have long since passed.
Now everyone just wants to put eachother on blast.