The MAJI

These misguided efforts to overcome or change
An outcome is no more than a balancing act.
But who else would? The riddle of existence.

When others stand in your way clear the path,
Be them stronger, richer, or holier. Hell hath
No fury stronger than what hearts run on.
Not coal or oil. Blood and hope, life’s contagion.

I don’t bow and never will,
If power matters so much you’re unfit
To rule and you too must fade.

If the meek will ever rise we’re artifacts of an age
Long dead in terms of practicality. The war we wage
Never ends because we chase glory, our damage.

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The MAJI: Soldiers without a creed

The Halls of Time

What was once illuminated falls
Into shadows now. Fate calls
Back everything to these halls.

The choices all lead back to here, have no fear.
We have been here before and so we return
To the ethereal. Dynamic goes static. Changing
Medium by which we perceive all of existence.

Unable to return the same we exemplify all we know.
Destination doesn’t matter. Our memories aren’t snow.

They don’t melt away. Good and bad we face the truth
Of space time yet remain oblivious about higher planes.
I’ll show you the halls of time where nothing ever dies. . .
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The Eternal Dream

Glyphs; symmetrical alchemical radicals
Of matter and energy. Inside this DNA
We can see the simple base of existence.

The eternal dream calls to each of us by name
Yet, do we even hear it? Heads hung in shame.

Take a moment, calm down, and listen. Feel the tide,
Time slipping on by and life’s clockwork mechanisms
Ticking as gears turn. We are glyphs etched into clay.
Evolution or transmutation? The questions we all relay.

Give me a moment longer to etch who we are into the code
Of the Universe. Never forget the way it was. Just don’t erode. . .
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The Resonance of Particles Unknown

Nothing to everything, a concept born of flaws
That will always deviate from understanding.
Shatter the glass panes and dare to dream
When the answer-less questions stack up.

Somewhere between the particles in you
And those in me is a single one that vibrates
To a frequency we’ll never know. And so few
Are these seconds before this life dissipates.

Do they know how hard they make it? Passing
Through thresholds of charge. What is missing?

Energy transcends matter. The forms we take
May differ yet if you listen there’s a resonance
Like a familiar melody. Under moonlight dance
Because we know everything else is just fake.

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What’s real? The connection.

Caught Between Lethe and Phlegethon ~ Prologue

After a long and tiring journey I find myself somewhere between, between where dreams are born and choices are made. The events of my life stand in front of me like an illusion of endless mirrors but I know better. Every choice I wrought to life with my callous, shaking hands remains reminiscent of who I am. My heart beats and I listen to the melody because that’s life. Those steps I follow in stride toward a new tomorrow echo in my ears still.

Although the concept of days ends, I chase after the dawn even now. I rejoice in the willingness to continue. Why do I hold so dearly to hope like it’s instinct? My sense of self remains but there’s something off. The mirror keeps me lost between dawn and dusk. What ifs in life given brilliant illumination in the form of a mirror.

Anger, the sensation of rushing blood and chemicals, tells me I can never be those what ifs the mirror shows. I touch the smooth surface. The lives better and worse feel absent of all heart. Senseless existences could never comprehend existing. What comes of me if I accept these false lives? People should sacrifice some for greater things. I can’t do that even if it’s the right thing because all I understand is what I’ve done. There’s no going back.

I shatter the mirror with my bare fists. The glass digs deep into my knuckles, blood drips from the cuts, and a plume of glass fragments and dust remains. My rejection of possible outcomes only solidifies when I can no longer see the paths. I step on every fragment reflecting a happier me that could never be. Maybe a different me takes the other paths but I never will. Time only allows a single path. There’s a higher consciousness where I can see every option, know everything, and be a better man.

The question remains:
Will I still be me when I reach that point?

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The Defiled Heart

The darkness inside lashes at my memories
In an attempt to steal who I am. It’s the mark
Burned into my flesh awaking my inner demons.

My wrath, lust, and pride slithering under my skin;
A burn that never goes away. Will they ever win?
I swallow my unsettled doubts, like pills with gin.

We don’t choose the fights we’re tossed into. Survive,
That’s what our hearts scream. Is that why I still strive?

Dark and cold black flames judge my heart to a feather.
I failed. Know that I’m not giving in. There’s a day that
I gotta see with these eyes and feel with these hands.
My wretched fate repeats day by day yet, I smile.

They call me Ariex Nightblade. I watched wars,
Witnessed genocide, killed a friend; I left
The Royal Protectorate to heal these scars.
This curse I took on instead of being ever so bereft.

My brother Synji bears the other mark.
The endarkened; the illuminated.
We serve two roles in a grand tragedy.

I need to survive. . .reject fate ordained.

sa;bdry

The Mists: An Innovation of Faith and Science

“The tragic world we live in held me for a while.
All tragedies must eventually end. And I smile.”

Drenched in sorrow she poured the gasoline
Over her church clothes. A lit cigarette burned
Her world to only ashes. Her friends begged
For answers but they know the dead never tell.

What came of her after that departure? Forget
Everything you know and let me create the set.

A beautiful collection of memories, the cultivation
Of the lives we live. Beings made of the Universe
Experience vastly different memories. To collect
Data a dimension exists beyond space and time.
When this voyager found her material body inefficient
Every memory transferred over. Her consciousness
Awoke in an unknown yet comforting place. On a boat
Floating over calm waters at dawn she finally sleeps.

When she awakes there’s herself she must face
Until her metaphysical wounds heal. It’s no race
Because life’s never easy and has no set pace.

sa;bdry
The idea that the Universe is God and organisms exist as his senses.

A Flower of Shattered Glass

What can be seen in this distant reverie? My heart
And hands failing to reach. The reality is so chilling
Like I’ve been dead or I was a corpse from the start.

Dreams given our breath can raise the dead. Only so far
Can this way take us and at a point we must take an oar.

Who would defy the flow, clear these vines, and remain?

I walk my own path. All I’m trying to do is live a life
I can believe in. No side taken even under a knife.

I’ve been broken and lost in the madness but I’ll walk
Forward in solidarity with my friends. We know what’s
At risk. That’s why we stand up even when we’re afraid.
No one can break what’s already been broken long ago.

Among shattered glass I see petals. There’s so much more
Than what has been lost in pursuit of everything we swore.

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The form may be lost but the dream remains.