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Before the fall

Though we’ve claimed to tame
the rebellious flame,
are we really that strong?
Are we really not wrong?

And we carve our names into the stone
as though we somehow could have known
how long we would rule…
Lord, we were such fools.

From dust we’re born
and to dust we’ll die,
though we lord o’ the oceans
and command the vast skies.

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Daemon

We are those who go bump in the night:
the shadows on the wall, the small child’s fright.
We’ll terrorize you to our delight
before swallowing up the last of the light.

We are the shades who hunt the line
between our world and that of thine.
On sweetest sins we nightly dine,
a desecration quite divine.

We have lived long through the ages
and lurked between your fables’ pages.
We’ve supped upon your finest sages
and shouldered your worst warriors’ rages.

The time has come; your end is nigh
as our wings blot out the sky.

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Zombie

You’re stumble, mumble fumbling,
so messed up that you’re tumbling
down heights and hills and high ways –
but please steer clear of my ways.

Your noxious scent’s quite petulant,
your manners aren’t quite heaven-sent,
and your broken bones are jonesin’
with gangrene fermentosin’.

Your slack-jawed face that lacks awe
has seen the wrong side of a hacksaw
and you lost your ear right over ‘ere
and I think I can see your derriere…

Well…I’ll do God’s work and put you down
with a bullet right upon your crown.

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Dear Diary

Today I posted something on the internet again
and all my friends laughed
and hit the “like” button
except for the fakes and haters
who reblogged it with mean comments
about how I should leave my parents basement
and go outside and get a tan
but they’re just jealous
of how awesome I am.

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Tiamat

Rain…fall…
Slow~ly~
If only you’d stop,
if on~ly.

Rain…fall…
Dee~per~
Chilling my bones,
you creep~er.

Rain..fall..
Qui~cker.
The wetter the roads,
the sli~cker.

Rain..fall..
Down~ down.
Flooding the rivers,
drowning the town.

Rain. Fall.
To~night.
Swallow the world
and swallow~ the light.

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After the thundercrack

You’re so bold:
like a raven in the night;
like a candle out of sight.

You’re so cold:
like the shadow of a life;
like the flashing of a knife.

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Craven country

Why do they call us “consumers”
instead of valued “customers?”
Are we supposed to be gluttons
who are being raised for mutton?

Are we nothing more than sheep
that the wealthy like to keep
penned up in a golden cage,
indigent even in our rage?

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Ring around the Roses

 

While the music plays
its rich and baritone notes
life is a grand thing.

Then “without warning”
the music suddenly stops
and we all fall down.