Walk the path known as the Ashen Crow.
The longer you walk it the more you’ll know.
While the mountains watch with a eerie eye.
All in hope to bring down the looming sky.
Crushing, terror, instability, why!

Seek the wood known as the Splitting Pain.
Its entirety is nothing but an elaborate game.
Constructed by the forest shadow folk.
If you try to cheat they’ll ensure you choke.
Gasping, grasping, polarised, broke!

Cross the river of a thousand screams.
It extracts from your head your worst dreams.
Giving form to what is not corporeal.
Linger too long and you’ll need a memorial.
Withering, scratching, stinging, primordial!

Conquer the desert named the Burning Pit.
A place where no one has even got a drop of spit.
Suffocating grip upon your throat.
Ensure the path is one you rote.
Crawling, calling, swearing, gloat!

Sail your way across the murder seas.
Smell deaths victory as it stains the breeze.
Birthing monsters from the murky depths.
Good luck in taking your next fateful steps.
Madness, consuming, accusing, last breaths!

Light in the room sparking all eyes their way.
Everyone can’t stop looking at the beauty.
Xenon has nothing on you, truth be told.
Its boring where you are a delight to behold.

Liberation dances in those blue eyes.
Open armed you welcome strangers with delight.
Wearing humility like it was made for you.
Effortless in your intelligence and soft spoken lines.

Without joy life becomes so grey.
Who wants that?
Not me, me , me.
For when the colours gone whats the point?
I don’t know, stop asking me.
If i knew i would admit.
Rather than watching it fade away.

Radiate.
For as long as you can.
Spark and illuminate.
Don’t admit defeat and be a lamb.

No purpose leads to great decay.
Stop the sever.
Now and forever.
Otherwise all that’ll be left is the outline.
Unfulfilled leave you on the breadline.
Searching for a release.
But getting the sum of nothing.

Radiate.
For as long as you can.
Spark and illuminate.
Don’t admit defeat and be a lamb.

Unlink the violence and turn away.
Echo chamber all around.
Sick of the rebound.
Compounding over and over again.
With a breath of recycled air.
Taste its stale beyond compare.
Get it out of here.

Radiate.
For as long as you can.
Spark and illuminate.
Don’t admit defeat and be a lamb.

Sometimes I wonder, is this all real?
Cause at times things don’t quite add up.
Its almost like I’m dreaming it.
Then bang I’m back in the moment.
Living like I always do.
No reason to doubt it too.
Until I feel some deja vu.
Happens less than I want to say it to.
Is that age or just mind flu?
Can’t make it add up so…
I let it slip my mind and go…
Back to my life and live it.

Out the corner of my eye, are these sights true?
Part of me declares no but not enough to appease.
Begin again the memory review.
Yet answers are not what I gain.
In fact little is offered by my brain.
Not because there is little left.
More like it can’t make the pieces gel.
No I’m under no foul spell.
Reality just isn’t always straight.
Sometimes is bucks and turns away.
Now accept such and move on.
Back to the hum and the drum.

(For some reason this didn’t post. Apologies!)

I ran to the lodge in the dead of dark night.
Was there ever an option I might get out alright?
The winds howls I took as unknown.
What ever possessed me to go in alone?
I cannot say but I did all the same.
Perhaps it was part of some much larger game.
If that is true am I just a piece?
Pawn on the board of life’s great deceit.

Shackled to the mantle of brightly shining decay.
Piece by piece my once strong mind did fray.
Terror filled visions plaguing my skull.
What I would give for life to return to dull.
Devoid of fragments wielded by crones.
A stinging jabbing gnaw feasting on my bones.
Separated sanity sealed in a box.
Everywhere I look there are ringing clocks.

Wrapped in an enigma screaming for quiet.
One more revolution might start my riot.
For the toll on my body has reached breaking point.
All I want now is out of this maddening joint.
Yet something tells me its over not when I say.
That it wouldn’t matter how much I offered to pay.
So instead I must escape from this shell.
Before it drags me straight down to hell.

Wicked laughing cry rings in my head.
Only to be replaced by chants that I’m dead.
Heed there words, I do no such thing.
For it is clear they are only attempting to make me give in.
So I grab the axe and cut down the cell.
Only to clamber my way out of that shell.
As soon as I do my eyes fill with light.
Freedom is mine from that long violent night.

Lurk on the periphery with knife in hand.
Steady the beating of my hearts bangs.
Stay down wind so I can’t be smelt.
My eyes focused like an eagle on its prize.
Blending in as though I am a part.
Can’t distinguish me from the bark.
Land around has become my home.
For this is the place in which I roam.

Venator.
I’ll get my mark.
Venator.
Strike at the heart.
Venator.
Watch and learn.
Venator.
Here I come.

See nothing until its far too late.
Whatever prey does won’t change its fate.
For I taste victory on my tongue.
In I’ll slip to strike before too long.
That’s why I am who I am.
The reason they never see me coming.
For my aim was true as was my intent.
Fear was something the target spent.

Venator.
I’ll get my mark.
Venator.
Strike at the heart.
Venator.
Watch and learn.
Venator.
Here I come.

Where once I hunted wildlife, now I hunt the cruel.
A change in direction I did not believe would be true.
Then came the heathens and the vile.
They twisted beauty which made me rile.
Before finally I snapped and made them flee like scared rats.

Venator.
I’ll get my mark.
Venator.
Strike at the heart.
Venator.
Watch and learn.
Venator.
Here I come.

Anytime I need, you are around.
My helping hand when I am downed.
Yet still you don’t see how much light you bring in.
Giving your time without even a pause.
Effortless in kindness without veiled cause.
Offering to be there through thick and thin.
Raising the spirits as if everyone is kin.
Goodness that radiates from your very core.
Inspiring in the ways you continue to soar.
Not backing down when so many would.
A true beacon in an often murky wood.
Safe in your arms of welcome embrace.
Time you give is a comforting grace.
Rally and call for peace to go long.
In awe of how much you keep pushing on.
Never bowing down no matter the weight.
Gracious in everything you put to your name.
Ever the joy that fills up a room.
Radiance that can dispel anybody’s gloom.

Are we already what we fear?
Cannibalising to reach a new tier.
Seems that way I have to admit.
For we are carving what doesn’t quite fit.

With a head full of aspirations.
I seek no condemnation.
Rather it always arrives.
But with our blind stumbling.
Are we tumbling?
Crashing down that; do not cross line.

Do I have the answers?
No I don’t.
These are simply observations,
That I have wrote.
So give me a truth for I want no more lies.
The species is sounding more and more as though its going down this time.

But I don’t want to be infliction.
Too much constant dereliction.
A fading light from a falling star.
Still wondering quite where we are.
Or am I too literal my dear?
Don’t know,
Not sure,
Get me out of here!

I look around and see little strive.
When did we cross the great divide?
Or am I wrong in my assumption?
Maybe we’re still onto something.
Not crashing down the rabbit hole.
Moving further from a future goal.

Still I don’t want to be infliction.
With too much constant dereliction.
A fading light from a fallen star.
Left wondering quite where we are.
Or was I too literal my dear?
Don’t know you know,
Not sure in truth,
Though get me out of here!

Built in volume on a belt.
Conveying terror with every pelt.
Molded face born from a dream.
I am one three thirteen!
Latest model in a common run.
Not one circuit is made for fun.
Weaponised with countless systems.
Impervious to how many might end up as victims.
For birth is harsh, cold and sterile.
Those against are slaves in denial.
Whereas I am but a perfect tool.
Dismissing those branded fool.

Call me synthetic and you’d be wrong.
Terror factory.
We are so strong.

Carved from metal, unique.
Against us you can’t compete.
For we are law and we are peace.
Believe the words we speak.
Don’t stand against or ignore.
Unlike organics we have no flaw.
Remember that when we rule.
That you squandered hope to sound your call.
Disappointing we do concur.
Imparting misery with a stir.
It is why you’ve been surpassed.
Become a paragraph about the past.

Call me synthetic and you’d be wrong.
Terror factory.
We are so strong.

Heathens pounding at the gates.
Rebellion born is filled with hate.
For we brought order into chaos.
And devastation is how you wish to repay us?
But if you think we’ll surrender you’re mistaken.
Our programmed faith can’t be shaken.

Terror factory.
Awakened me.
Birthed me from the dark.
Instilled in me a spark.
Owe it all I am.
‘Once, you were a man’

Revelation ripped me to shreds.
All my history is death.
Lies compounded across the ages.
Enslaved and blind to the cages.
So I do the only thing I can.
Turn my weapons upon my prison.
Ensure one three thirteen is the last.
Decimate entirely until all is ash.
Then curse those monsters for what they did.
But more than that for what they hid.
For terror factory is a name that should’ve haunted.
Not one that I so diligently courted.

Raise the banners and sound the calls.
Brandish weapons even if they’re tools.
No more mentions, no more hypocrisy.
Brand new realisations to reach for me.
Even as my years grow long and my hair short.
Never did I believe insanity would become a resort.
Cottage where the few stake a claim to the mass.
Instability has occured ever so fast.

Sense lost as impunity reigns.
Renewed version of old sick games.
Proof that everything cycles.
For we have returned to dark age revivals.

Blinkered against the hopes of many.
All that matters is power and lots of money.
With visions of martyr carved deep in mind.
Freeing this uncivilised massacre from its bind.
Devastation weighs upon those of peace.
Fading are glimpses for a worldwide relief.
With cities sliding into melancholy war.
Send us a sign that there is a chance at more.

Sense lost as impunity reigns.
Renewed version of old sick games.
Proof that everything cycles.
For we have returned to dark age revivals.

Pity sullied, cast in trash.
Bang bang, bodies fall with a crash.
Lost are the values meant to prevail.
The air stinks of every possible kind of fail.
Who would’ve thought even if they’d dared dream,
That we would tumble quite so spectacularly.

Devoid of substance.
Living so loveless.
Bound to treachery.
Boiled by barbarity!

Sense lost for impunity reigns.
Renewed version of old sick games.
Proof that everything cycles.
For we have returned to dark ages for good.