He Who Continues to Struggle Toward the Light, His Spirit Will Never Be Defeated

The light; concrete or abstract
Somehow we find ways to subtract,
Extract the heart beating inside.

Held down by a chosen destiny like the path had been set long ago.

And now when I’m looking in the eyes
Of others there’s a pestilence growing inside.
I’m just asking where does the heart reside
Now? Cast the die and take a ride
Through the bountiful gardens of decadents.

The day when it rains I wonder if it’s like a cadence or is it like an emptiness.

Are we living inside a trance?
Move by move we dance
Along to the melancholy tune.

I’m asking for a different kind of light coming from inside.

I ain’t looking for an ecclesiastical view, much less an optimistic one, just something to tell me that you feel. It feels like I’m surrounded by hollow men.

Abominations without a heart
But plenty of matches to start
A fire upon the fields of Eden.
What is this that we’ re feeding?

Ego, self pride, self-worth; neuroses plaguing the conscience and warping the outlook on life. Like a fish we took the hook for a little bait. So tell me where is the light now?

Did we snuff it out?
With a puff the candle went out.candle-blown-out

The Fracture: An Alchemist’s Greatest Tools — A Grimoire and Curiosity (Part 1 of 7)

“Have you ever just stared out into the distance? Out there is something unknown but it’s known by the wind. The howls, the cold, the birds, the whispers, the storms, the seeds, the wanderlust. If the unknown calls then surely we should heed it.” These are the words said by a stranger on his way through my village.

These words they resonate in my mind. A man traveling by himself through dangerous lands yet he remains cheerful. I wonder if I could do the same. The stagnant state of this village leaves a pungent taste in my mouth. No news from the outside reaches here and the villagers find solace in the isolation. Do I? Lately the man’s words romance my thirst for something new.

I walk to the edge of town where I met the man. The place is unusual for most travelers. A ravine the village elder calls the entrance to the Burrow of Despair. Tales speak of men losing their minds in the ravine and finding a door hidden beneath thorns. Neither does the door exist or the thorns but the hallucination is much more vivid than reality. One man rescued from the ravine was unable to function at all.

The older villagers say he never escaped the ravine. I never met him nor do I wish to find truth in such a tragedy. Out of mercy or perhaps selfishness they put him to rest. We warned the traveler about these states of altered reality but he pressed on. I wonder how. His footsteps, the only pair on the soil, show a leisurely stroll.

“What was it? If I could ask about his confidence in traveling. Or return the book he dropped right here.” I ramble on.

I traced the cover with my hand. A skillful engraving meets my fingertips and I feel warmth radiating from it. Should I read the book? He may never return. Or I could show it to the elder because all those old people in the Council have strict rules on outside knowledge. No I can’t let them get rid of the book. I place the book back in my pocket and head back to my house.Typography-Change-The-World-Mahatma-Gandhi-Quotes-1920x1080

Dark Hearts

The hardest bark and thinnest blade of grass;
Reality and dreams – caught on the shoals
Of a sea where the known and unknown
Wage war. A pendulum swinging back and fro.
Caught in the tides to which we never let go
And we become slaves to. We who own
The world actually own nothing. Fools,
Proving themselves with wealth and brass.

A darkness grows from this discrepancy.
These deeds corrupt the primal forces
Born ages before humanity. Destruction.
Is this a law of motion or simply karma?

The Dragacian people were not ready.
Fanatical beasts pour out at a steady,
Unnerving rate. Again, they were not ready.

Hatred it seeps into our hearts filling it black,
The day comes when the dawn will no longer break,
we forget who we are and who they are. A war begins.
We could walk away. Why don’t we? We could.
The differences between us never justify.
To take is to steal for we weren’t given this earth.
Question what you were told. They lied.
The world allows us to be here.

If we betray the kindness how can we say it’s unfair?
Let’s walk away. The march forward we can’t share.
sabdry

I ~ The Vestige of the Fade

I awake to the echo of clockwork. After rubbing my eyes I look around. Above me hangs a giant clock. It floats in a place where nothing else other than darkness exists. The time reaches midnight.

The darkness splits in half with light. White light like a spear pierces through this lonely chamber. I step toward the divide. An infant’s cry, a solemn gasp, and the ticking of a clock sound as I approach.

“Child, you have returned. The place you are is the first and last place your existence came to be. From the heights of freedom to the depths of sorrow you fell. Here, you can forget for you’ve become faded.” echoes an omnidirectional and gentle voice.

Cracks of light spread until everything clears up. I fall to my knees and gasp at the sight. Charred ground that black vines grow from goes from horizon to horizon. A mob of people with a dark gray eyes walks around aimlessly. I feel a coldness in their gaze.

One woman grabs my arm. Despair, loneliness, and captivity surge from her weak touch. I pull away suddenly. The mob turns toward me. My mind screams to run but, my body freezes in fear. Stupidly I think about the state of the human condition as they overpower me and tear at my flesh with overgrown nails.

“Damaged. . .” I spit out that single word with a little blood, “Anger and hate vents from broken and lost hearts. Are you looking for a new beginning? I know I am.”

They mindlessly attack me. I feel myself sinking beneath the tide of their bodies. All the emotions gnaw at my heels to keep me stuck here. I cry and scream for help while knowing it’s just in vain. Eventually my body grows numb to the pain.

I dig my nails into the charred ground and pull myself through the mob. My arms collapse from exhaustion. The shadows of their tangled bodies swallow me up whole. I try to remember better times before now because I can no longer feel anything. One memory finds its way among these dark times.

A day where my heart aches but my eyes could no longer cry. My best friend, another kid apprentice in a small town known for its superb smiths, argues with military officers about prices. They call him a greedy kid but they are wrong. He works hard trying to get medicine for kids in an orphanage.

He looks at the villagers who turn away from him. And I, his friend, walk away to work on my craft. After a few hours I run to his family home knocking on the door. No one answers. I decide to sit on their stairs until they return. Before I notice the suns begins setting bringing with itself a cold April shower. Cold and shivering I wait.

I open the door around midnight. He sits there on his knees in a pool of tears. The candles cast a shadow over him but I reach out to touch his shoulder. My thoughts race and no words come out. He pushes me away.

“Where did you go! They, no. . .no one believed me. Those kids are dying! And the military offers nothing while expecting cheaper prices for their duty. They called me a petty thief. No one spoke of my innocence as they called me guilty. Look at what silence does!” he raises bandaged hands missing a few fingers.

“I’m sorry but what could us kids change? They could’ve killed you.” I speak without hesitation and bite my tongue after.

“Get out.” he pushes me back.

That day’s mistake still eats away at my conscience. Thoughts like what-ifs gnash and tear. A wound forms from looking back while knowing I can never change the past. It keeps me awake at night. And my senses return with the old heartache.

“I fucked up back then. I know that. Yet from failure I still dare wish to succeed.” I shout with my whole heart.

“To feel pain is the cost to feel anything at all but don’t become obsessed with it. Learn to grow with every step. And with any luck this darkness, a horde of tainted hearts, will never be. Cure the blight.” everything blurs out of focus.

Shards of a Fallen Paradise

Ever wonder about the nature

Of ethics? Changing with a feature

Called society and without departure.

Well, a isle in an ocean made of memories

Dared to see a new dawn of all the reveries

From which life gains purpose for stories.

 

A Dionysian Kingdom chasing freedom and highs.

At first the denizens talked, expressed, and loved

Without barriers but, jealousy and greed seeped in.

It does everywhere. We often fail to see this truth.

 

Bliss. Do we hide from the obscene or face it headlong?

Truthfully, I hope you never see all these haunting horrors

And can be free from these curses. To know human errors

Is to know your own / Maybe the pain makes us strong.

Among the Sun and the Shade: Intro

They say disregard those that are weird and to accept those that are different. When their charade is exposed the journey begins. We’re sailing into a jungle where a bright Sun burns anyone outside. Most will steer away from this land of tribulation and seek refuge in the shade, but I can’t anymore. The Sun burns away the veil. . .

 

VON (Hope)

“Vigilantes? We’re much worse. Just a demon
Clawing at the world’s innards. We’re anarchy.”
“That’s a band of thieves. Circulate the ill blood,
Feed your greed, toss out scraps from where you stood.”
“To survive takes will, to thrive takes a salary.
We’re all meat but some can become sovereign.”

The day comes when we reflect back. Did we do right?
Far after the fight, way beyond sight; a waning light.

There are possibilities, some harder to envision
Than the rest, that everyone can reach. Few race
Through life but a faster way often ends sooner.
I climb above the streets by wet, cold, slick bricks.

Rain drips from my saturated strands of hair,
Musty air fills my chest, I exhale my breath.
Others carry on through each drop. To stare
At their beautiful bittersweet world, Macbeth.

 

To Be True to Yourself

Everyone wants a place to belong
And a chance at happiness. Imagine,
What will people do without either?
They wage physical and psychological war.

I cross through the sea of their rage
In an exodus from their golden age.
Oh is my heart right? I keep breathing,
It’s all I can do. Yeah, no escaping.

The fact is I’d fight for the right
Of that opinion you hold so tight.
We have to stand up and fight.

Our enemies use our own morals against us.
To divide us. Why do we hate what makes us us?
See there’s a point where others manipulate us
For their own benefit. They don’t care about us.

Try to remember:
We have both a heart and a mind, to love and to understand.
Adversity-Quotes-50.jpg

Echoing voices pass by, yet it’s silent.

Fear keeping them from communicating
As exhaust fumes polluting the air between.
A perpetuating system like the withering
Of a flower. The masses are gathering.
Words lost in all the frequencies unseen.
Does anyone see bleeding hearts desiccating?

Yeah, I’m listening and seeing the truth.
My hands sift through their tears like sand
And I fall to a humbler state.

“Why? Why do we all turn
On others when life gets tough?
They need some love when it’s rough.
Can we change? Or do we burn?”

I’m unready for that cremation.
The sand cannot just be ashes
Of dreams and lives now lost.

Nothing is wrong about dreaming, living, being you;
It isn’t right to dramatize struggles when others bleed.
We have to be better. I’ll be there and I’ll offer my hand
When someone hurts because life can be so cruel.