Stood on the shore and watched waves hit the bay.
Before too long it was reaching for me.
Slick as black but somehow twice as deep.
Venomous and virile as if chattering sharp teeth.
Heard this before never had I.
However every day since that sound has assaulted my mind.
Nightmares and day terrors swim in my head.
Eventually came the voices baying for me to be dead.

Unravelling, can’t let go.
One more hit before I must so.
Consumption, your are a leech.
Don’t say a word,
I don’t wish to hear you preach.

Rapping on torment is a thrilling but devious ride.
Stings almost as much as the rending of pride.
Though none of it will ever be quite as foul…
As that day I shattered like glass versus a sharp beaked owl.
The screeches were sumptous until they were not.
Sounds I can never seem to be without.
Staggering scriptures I committed to ash.
Pity it was too late to fix that poor hand that I cast.

Unravelling, can’t let go.
One more hit before I must so.
Consumption, your are a leech.
Don’t say a word,
I don’t wish to hear you preach.

For you I have an anthem.
Not a package filled with contagion.
Whether you get the point or not…
Doesn’t matter for naught.

You see this is an ode to the forgotten.
Downtrodden they’ve been left as rotten.
Names banished to some dusty books.
No longer any of them get envious looks.
For they are our…

Disposable heroes and this is their song.
It sure ain’t grand after, all they’ve done.

Shallow graves, sheds filled with pain.
One too many bullet to the brain.
Rampaging dread that rouses them at night.
Pity for them there’s nothing left to fight.

For they…
Are the broken and battered.
Bruised in mind and body shattered.
Prevailing sense of, what’s the point?
No longer do the crowd anoint.
Rather they’ve been tossed, dethroned.
Their days left shallow and alone.

Disposable heroes and this is their song.
It sure ain’t grand after, all they’ve done.

But this is the truth and it ain’t even long.
They were once names, simply didn’t carry on.
Some say its cause the world moved forth.
To be honest it was a fad.
And like all of them they’re forgotten once they’re dead.
So one more time lets resurrect days gone by.
Shout it loud, maybe even cry.
As afterall it can do no harm…
To show some gratitude in this disposable hero song.

Am I the only one who wishes for change to come?
To see the days turn from grey to something.
Cut out the hum drum which has been allowed to flourish.
For things as such will never manage to nourish.
Yet what I see are the same old schemes.
Men in suits with smiles that do gleam.
Fake and false like the tales of yore.
Down these maniacals, I say once more.
Though still they wander and roam with hope.
They plan to steal what they thus far have fumbled to choke.
To you and me its known as choice.

In their eyes its a word most sick.
Should be carved and cast into a deep pit.
But ’til now they have not prevailed.
Merciful I believe it is that they’ve failed.
Still how long on that can we rely?
I cannot say and do not wish to try.
For some day things will suffer monumental shift.
Truthfully I don’t want to see them again a grip.
Which is why we must angle things a new way.
Otherwise who knows what might unfold.
Other than to say our lives would not be so gold.

Flip a coin over knuckles.
Air around is filled with chuckles.
Chatter on a soft cool breeze.
Never wish to forego times like these.
For in the end peace is best.
Plant that flag but get plenty of rest.
Cause times are changing and waters are murky.
Don’t assume all will be positivity.
By that I mean; hope for joy, prepare for pain.
Some fools always want to play a game.
Not the sort that tends to be fun.
However don’t dwell on that for too long.
Instead smile, laugh and leap with energy and glee.
For after all life is meant to bring you joy.
So live your way and be the best you that you can be.

Petrified by my malcontent piece.
For too long I have been the beast.
Siphoning and carving brutality.
One foul look will not alter trajectory.

Down, in the lair of rotting thorn hatred.
Light will not shine no matter the wanting.
For, my heart is shriveled and my eyes are black.
It would be better to say I’m what should be feared; got that?

Washed up, has been are the calls.
Cut like a knife, will be how I stop y’all.
Fractured hairline failures in the mass.
Wave fareful as lethal floods crash.

Down, in the lair of rotting thorn hatred.
Light will not shine no matter the wanting.
For, my heart is shriveled and my eyes are black.
It would be better to say I’m what should be feared; got that?

But you don’t see a twisted menace.
Heart of gold, your touch is sensitive.
I do not trust, I do not get; why are you offering respect?
Its a con, its a lie.
It is neither I’m just fractured dry.
Retreat is my final defence.
Cornered I have to face this.
Kindness is not something I know too well.
Sad to say I lashed out and drove you away.

Down, in the lair of rotting thorn hatred.
Light will not shine no matter the wanting.
For, my heart is shriveled and my eyes are black.
It would be better to say I’m what should be feared; now I’ve assured that.

Damning the totems to realm in endless abyss.
That which is forged here may soon be remiss.
Should the waves keep a churning and the skies tear past wide.
Breeding of torture fashions the stormiest ride.

Sail for me under empty moon.
Blood is my failing.
I gaze for the loon.
Pitch in the motion as the ship she does roll.
Battered in by whats slow.

Haul up the skins and race to the edge.
Bargain for treasures that won’t buy a single bed.
For oceans are a calling and those you should heed.
No other locale will you feel peace and at ease.

Sail for horizon and dawn of new day.
Cannons are loaded.
Deaths on its way.
Yet for the masses do these tales not sit true.
For they are jaded beyond feeling too.

Pester my crew and a long walk you’ll take.
Off of the plank that will seal your fate.
Not a word spoken of where you might ultimately fall.
For fear is a gripping crippling call.

Set off the journey to conquer the seas.
Mermaids and ghost are talking all the time to me.
Yet madness is seldom unless consuming the salt.
If that is what you’re doing I’ll spare you more fault.

A shot from my flintlock.
A blade through the chest.
All options are better than withering to death.
So heed my words as fractured as they are.
Or drown in the depths of merciless liar.

I am callous;
Feed me with malice.
For names won’t break me.
I built a realm off negativity.
Forged from pain inflicted.
Never will i be constricted.
For this place is of my own making.
Continue all you like with your hating.
Different isn’t wrong, no matter what you’re spitting.

I am king callous;
Position formed with that same malice.
Palace erected in my mind and name.
For me what you do is less than a game.
Pitiful you think you matter at all.
Throughout i will remain standing tall.
For you know zip about who i am.
Think me the weirdo that needs banishing.
Get bent; i will remain who and what i have always been.

King of the callous;
Palace constructed from pain, suffering, ridicule and malice.
Confusion writhing right beneath your surface.
Judgement on me is superfluous.
I know you’re haunted and tormented.
The stench on you is cemented.
Smiles are all you’re get; so evil.
I am more than simply primeval.
Bathe in your insecuirty as i excel with absolute glory!

Prevail;
I’ll never fail.
Say my name, my title.
I am inevitable.

King callous;
Fed, fueled, born from malice.
High atop my throne;
Palace all of my own.

Strike the match; light the fire.
Awaken every kind of desire.
Light to dark including the grey.
Don’t let any of it fade away.

Add to the mix; stoke the flames.
Extinguish anyone who tries to shame.
Snap the cord, set them adrift.
They won’t really be missed.

Roaring blaze; drink in the lust.
Rising from the ashes is a must.
Born to madness with renewed passion.
If you have to make the world crash down.

Weave addiction; make them bay.
Before long you will be all they say.
So heed no warnings from false prophets.
For such entities are simple puppets.

You are you; all you need to be.
Unique in your entirety.
Smile and wink; make them swoon.
Haters will stalk, so make them fume.

Malicious maggots eating the poor.
Right, left, right; punch!
Prepare for war.

Money grabbing, mesmerised by the flow.
To say I’m sick of this cycle would be an understatement though.

Wretched hives of scum and filth.
Surround to crush our hopes of peace and health.
For conflict and theft are not what we crave.
Sadly their are no superheroes to save our days!

Putrid pack of spineless scabs.
Feeling the sting means you’ll soon be laid out on slabs.

Maladjusted egos fuelled by their mouths.
Being like them should make no one proud.
For they are the disease that rots us from within.
These realms in which they grew are places they should’ve never been.

Alas the greedy are rarely too bright.
If once they were they have long lost the fight.
Rather now they are husks with pure lust.
And in them, no you should never put an ounce of trust.

Malicious maggots eating the poor.
Right, left, right; punch!
Prepare for war.

Putrid pack of spineless scabs.
Feeling the sting means you’ll soon be laid out on slabs.

Sparodic snivelling worms known as man.
Busy scrubbing blood from their hands.
Guiltier than sin when it comes home to roost.
From these atrocities hell well get quite the boost.
Maybe Samael will even call for the halls,
To be stuffed to bursting for a feast upon thralls.
Or perhaps the debaunchery will sink even lower.
People be devoured like grass meeting mower.

Injected heresy from vial into eye.
A result of how easy they do tend to die.
Barely a challenge is what so many minions oft say.
Especially from those who tend to kneel down and pray.
For never before have they tried to be devout.
Until of course fear of Armageddon makes them shout.
At which point greed has turned into pleas.
Those same masses blanked by the deaf ears of butchery.