Feel the bile at the back of my throat.
Upon this air I might yet choke.

Cough up the violence, I don’t want it to stew.
Bored of the downtime, sending me askew.
Confused and fuzzy, is how I feel this day.
Someone hit me with adrenaline, before I drift away.

Feel the bile at the back of my throat.
Upon this air I might yet choke.

Disgust is the taste, and I want it to go.
Feel all the buildup, don’t want a part in the show.
Give me relief, I’ll wriggle far and free.
If I do not escape this cell, it’ll become my eternity.

Feel the bile at the back of my throat.
Upon this air I might yet choke.

Hand on the sink, pressure is building.
Whatever lies within, I need it to be wilting.
For my patience is down to a strand of wire.
If this goes on much longer I may soon turn to fire.

Feel the bile at the back of my throat.
Upon this air I might yet choke.

Or is this my overreaction?
Have I allowed to much infraction?
A circumventing of my persona.
Because of the mention of rona.

I don’t know and it feels wrong to say.
Think about now I need to split it from me.

Feel the bile at the back of my throat.
Upon this air I might yet choke.

Look at my face in the mirror with frame.
I see concern is emblazoned by fame.
For upon these shores I never wished to tread.
Honestly all I want is to return to a warm bed.
As my senses are weak and my body is sore.
If I continue to push I may be reduced to gore.
But leave me to recuperate, you refuse to agree.
And so I have to push on in suffocating misery.

My heart is asunder; torn and stuffed with clay.
If only your mind could fathom how to obey.
For these are not unreasonable things that I ask.
Unlike you I cannot continue to bask,
Lay in the heat under the scrutiny of a martyr.
When for my time I should not need to barter.
So this order to pay for what should be my right,
I cannot square away with a commandment to fight.

Beat in my ears is draining me to decay.
Please, all I ask is you simply go far away.
Cause I need some time to reforge my form.
How I exist now is not anything close to a norm.
These are the words I bark into flawless glass.
Giving not a damn if I sound a tad crass.
As dor too long treachery has remained in place.
Until I am fixed, life will remain a shattered disgrace.

Its a little concerning,
With all of your burning,
Sealed by a yearning.
Darkness treads!

Fashion and fiction.
Here comes affliction.
Woven interdiction.
Pass the pale!

Siphon the system.
But never Christen.
Broken by this’n.
Reap and sow!

Heresy for bitching.
Society’s twitching.
Content with snitching.
Fold to frame!

Rapture your capture.
Call a dispatcher.
End with new fracture.
Vent your spleen!

Polish to gleaming.
Are you still dreaming?
Desperate while screaming.
Dishonest threads!

Batter and use.
Step toward abuse.
Too much to prove.
Hasten an end!

Trimming lives like you would fingernails.
No hesitation is entailed.
Cutting deep and shrugging long.
A line of thinking doused in wrong.
But never do thoughts of forgiveness rise.
Spread far and wide is how you despise.
Venom soaked rag to silence a mass.
To the throat will be delivered a killing slash.

Yet in better days you chose to sing.
From beauty you did always bring;
A note of passion and a mountain of purity.
All of which you condemned to obscurity.

Filing hearts like you smooth skin.
This is your only way to win.
Juxtapose used to mask the crimes.
Surround the corpses with fresh limes.
Then burn the evidence to dust.
No soul do you wish to trust.
And so the slaughter rumbles on.
One day soon all life will be dead and gone.

Yet in better days you chose to sing.
From beauty you did always bring;
A note of passion and a mountain of purity.
All of which you condemned to obscurity.

Twist a tale wrought in hallowed endless dread.
What lies in the swamp is but your eternal bed.
Headless entropy you wield as a voice.
Betraying every soul by taking their choice.
Only to wind them in reeds and cast them to the pit.
Your every fibre is a sabotage culprit.

Yet in better days you chose to sing.
From beauty you did always bring;
A note of passion and a mountain of purity.
All of which you condemned to obscurity.

Silent disgrace woven amongst tales of treachery and theft.
That which survives might only be a section of some convoluted test.
Vie for power to see if that turns out to be true or false.
Picture perfect is how it seems we failed to check the pulse.
Grafted poachers along the winding mountain trail of curse.
Bled dry what should have been a bountiful purse.

Pariah,
My messiah.
Built from blood and stone.
Devoid of a real home.
Tortured by the heavens,
While left with no one…
But those named solace and melancholy!

Scattered thoughts salvaged and bonded into a single shape.
No thought was given to whether such actions were most unkind.
Until plagues came to wittle away what did remain.
Turning mountains to ash and forests to spouts of flame.
Robbed the territories of what was never on offer.
Paid out the debts with an empty falsified coffer.

Pariah,
My messiah.
Built from blood and stone.
Devoid of a real home.
Tortured by the heavens,
While left with no one…
But those named solace and melancholy!

Veracity has been sold not bought.
Each fresh page is written, blood sport.
It’s why with howls we screech for peace.
For right here is where Orion fashioned our grief.

Pariah,
My messiah.
Built from blood and stone.
Devoid of a real home.
Tortured by the heavens,
While left with no one…
But solace and melancholy.

Paradise is but a memory on the horizon.
Stare too long and you’ll go blind from trying.
But out in the wilds you might have a chance.
Here is the decree…
Bond it with the end of happenstance.

Pilfered and looted by the endless scheme.
Whatever they promised was never even a dream.
Twisted words formed of rotting lies.
You are the sacrifice…
Is what they hope to yell to the skies.

Pantheons built on the bones of helpers.
So many souls have turned into scalpers.
Damaged goods feeding innocent young.
Cry for disaster…
Hopefully soon the tragedy will be undone.

Putrid with outcomes which don’t quite align.
Some ramblings about the number being nine.
What is this madness birthed from the blue.
Sick of the savagery…
Soon monsters will be marching through.

Idolised by the heathens in the scriptures and scrolls.
Claims that absolutions will be found in hot coals.
Dive in the trenches and hope for a saviour.
Stabbed in the solace…
Surrounded by incoherent torture behaviour.

Bribed from the mast to be damned in the fog.
Days all consumed with choking upon lethal smog.
Itch in the chest which refuses to fade.
Hear all the pleas…
None will free us from being betrayed.

From the light of the dark sodden moon.
Rise with the ashes to take on the spoon.
Metamorphis without a right to behold.
Before much longer I shall turn to gold.

Statues laugh and angles taunt,
All of the voices help to haunt.
Fire the trumpets and foil the theories,
What aligns best is only conspiracies.

Weighted down into the caverns of sky.
A place where people ask nothing but why.
Yet there are no answers out on waves.
Don’t think this is how a universe behaves.

Statues laugh and angles taunt,
All of the voices help to haunt.
Fire the trumpets and foil the theories,
What aligns best is only conspiracies.

Wafers of calamity stitched into stone.
Threads from the melancholy; oh how they moan.
Protesting communion deep behind enemy lines.
Acknowledge and possess the moments in fines.
But never wither and wave.
Bring about turning the page.
Doomed to the masses of blackened swans.
Reattaching what has been defined as wrongs.
For no peace is eternal when signed in blood.
Prepare and hold on for the impending flood.
Butchered with rocks and battered to bruises.
Too many of the gathered contain short fuses.
And speaking in riddles breeds only brokers.
Inclinced to destroy with a field of scorching pokers.

Statues laugh and angles taunt,
All of the voices help to haunt.
Fire the trumpets and foil the theories,
What aligns best is only conspiracies.

Screams in my head that don’t wanna quit.
What I would give for some peace for a bit.
Raging and rolling the voices go round in my head.
So many sometimes I want to crawl back in bed.
But admitting defeat fills me with guilt.
Don’t want to be left here simply to wilt.
And so I feel stuck, paralysed and unsure,
While also feeling as though I am doing poor.
Failing the tests which I’ve set for myself.
Have I made them an unwinnable test?
Wish I could say but try as I might…
Everyday is a fresh period to fight.
Prevail or fail are equally haunting.
What I would give to put an end to what’s daunting.
Though waving a wand will result in no magic cast.
Another fallacy that has been left in the past.
Hate to say but its reality and true.
Felt far more at home when I was a kid with a view.

Someone please silence that ring.
Can’t stand any more of the thing.
Ask me to explain but I know I can’t.
Something about it results in a spark.
More paralysing than you can imagine.
Fight or flight, I can make no decision.

Torture and terror, thats what I feel.
No I’m not willing to make some sordid deal.
Terms are my own or I’ll turn to dirt.
For some reason the sounds makes me hurt.
So no more advice cause it isn’t blame.
Just ringtones leave me in pain.

Do almost anything to escape from the din.
Feels like a nightmare I’m forever trapped in.
And doing it more or increases the drain.
Worried that I might collapse my weary brain.
Now let me be and switch to silent.
Only way I feel I can be compliant.

Physical shudder of which I’m aware.
Of course I’d rather toward me you do not stare.
But thinking of other things is not a fix.
Ask me again and I might just eclipse.
Fade out to scream in my mind.
To me this treatment is most unkind.

Someone please silence that ring.
Can’t stand any more of the thing.
Ask me to explain but I know I can’t.
Something about it results in a spark.
More paralysing than you can imagine.
Fight or flight, I can make no decision.

Not sure how I got here or whats in my head.
What I can say is that it demands I’m bled.
Itching right beneath that gives birth to fog.
Each and every day is a permanent slog.
And I can change all my thinking but it still remains.
Never does the creeping stay out my brains.

I feel the familiarity.
Save me, save me;
There’s no escape for me.

Reason has been lost to the emotion inside.
If I could if would explain and provide.
For this crawl is not something to envy.
What it does is prevents and blocks me.
Still medication is not a worthy out I feel.
For I adore the parts which did not congeal.

I feel the familiarity.
Save me, save me;
There’s no escape for me.

Calm sparks for as long as I’m on the outside.
Don’t think this is fueled by some twisted pride.
And if I step into the torrent it’s deafening.
Mind overwhelmed I need to retreat.
Remaining will only see me get beat.
Don’t want to end up torn, shattered and incomplete.

I feel the familiarity.
Save me, save me;
There’s no escape for me.