The Day is Night

Then take your suicide! Do it else the light of the day and swarm of the angels should come down, and holy fire will sanctify your life with light!

But then, you do not dare I see, you dare not take the last remains of your cowardliness and complaining to the ends of its meaning: then it is clear to me that you lack conviction even in your own words!

You wriggle about and mock life for its unfailing nature and hardiness, all the while still clinging, still holding onto the glimmer of light that douses your dreams at night with illusions of reckoning!

But to which side do you hold to then? For it cannot be that life is hard yet also holds reckoning? Is it in your own mind again that you have separated what cannot be separated?

Then you see, it is your lot to uphold both, and in each take its due course while in wait for the next bout of the cycle. So cast aside your longing eyes! Because in the dark you’ll wish for sunlight, and in the sunlight wish for dark! But why not laugh when the sun is gone, and rejoice when the hour has come, and the night has faded and the day has faded, and all that’s left is what you’ve become.

Who

you speak but you do not know where
you hear but you cannot listen
you walk about the air and still you cannot shine because you are unwise and do not know what is in your mind
when you turn to grievances and you look to see if there’s no more remorse
you cannot hear that the angels cry and there is another life

when words have filled the country and the men no longer take to mourning
when the women start to cry but do not know what their tears are holding
when everything is always lies but never speaking truth that hides in eager eyes
that is what will take me to buried treasures that hides under the ocean tides
when words are meaningless and we do not know what to make of them

that is why we have been told
that sleepless nights don’t amount to gold
that though the sun must shine and birds must fly
never has the air been so burnt and dry
that is why our hearts conceal and our minds are lost and cannot see

never has there been a time like this
never has there been a sickness spread so thick
never has there been a such a man
who in his selfishness digs his own rotten lies
never has there been a life that takes its own life and calls it pride

when you turn to grievances and you look to see if there’s no more remorse
that is what will take me to buried treasures that hides under the ocean tides
never has the air been so burnt and dry
who in his selfishness digs his own rotten lies
and all that’s heard is a mirror’s cry.

Life

If you took each man and women, and lined them up next to their graves
And asked them then, what would they say?

Well, for most they’ll probably take to denying and crying
Saying why have you brought me here, and when can we leave?

And you’ll see for most then, they’ll take to escaping
And denying to answer, anything of value.

Still others will look at their grave
And take to looking at it in dismay

They’ll take to thinking
But never enough to find an answer

So they too will eventually falter
and return to their ways.

Some men perhaps will take to crying
And to these I think, there’s more Truth left than not

For perhaps they see something that is worth crying
Or else they’ve thought just now, that time is what’s dying.

But we are mortal, weak humans whom roam this Earth
And we cannot bear to stand when we’d rather be hurt

Stagnant to the last, painful to every grasp
But still we will not move, else we start causing our own pain.

But what is pain to a man who is already dead?
And what is grief to a man who’s laid to rest?

Ample time has been allotted to each and every one.
And to figure out a way to spend is required of all living beings.

So stare at your grave to contemplate madness
But then look at your present and think not of what’s after

Just take the feeling that comes from the grave
And pour your heart into doing what’s opposite of that place.

Then maybe some men and women will have nothing to say
But will simply turn, and start walking away.

The World

Oh but how hollow I have seen myself
And the mirror deceives as it gleams my reflections off the walls

But it is only me.
It is only me.

Darling, what that I have past the time where I had once loved.
And in this I have landed somewhere far away
Far far into the beyonds of plains that your minds-eye could never go beyond.

I have seen it!
I have captured it…

But where do you sleep now?
Is it not in the same way as you have before?
But then why do I struggle?
Why do I pine for something that does not exist?

My dear, my dear,

But you see that I am who I have always been!
That much I have seen, that much I must see.
For I am the madman that stalks,
and never leaves

Gestalt

Walked into river
River much too cold

Cold is bad
made me think to want warmth.

Fire is warm
then hand get closer

Hot is bad
made me think no good at all.

Met a good man
he gave many gifts (wine and food)

Gifts are good
made me think to do the same.

I gave gifts (wine and food)
people angry, say I try to please too much

Gifts are bad
I will not give as much.

Good and evil
both the same

Will you dare, to make this claim?

The Cold

To all I can see
I am unclean
bathing in waters
I shall never leave

Let the cold waters
run through my soul
and find fire within
does it douse it out — no.

Moving on fire
walking on ice
The simplest bridge
towards passion and vice

Told me your hour
was still yet to come
what have we done
but squandered our lonely —
bear with the pain I see, the ocean waves will never cease
And here I know what’s in my soul
It’s nothing I will ever be

So broken and shattered
I’m waiting for you
So making it past me
Is something I knew

And what’s more for me, the evening of death
And where do we stand in loneliness.

Hm

Shine a light, my waking moment
Closing light, a dawning time.

In angels wings I rode to heaven
And in the battlefield, they stood and fought

My abandoned values, I watched as they starved themselves, maimed the others, spoke, and loved, and spilt their blood, as I left their lands, cast above.

Could I not see? Could I not but hear the muses sing? Oh but there are no muses, I have been deceived! Who called out that this is where the miracle speaks?

Who calls out? The air my dear. And I have left my values, fighting as I stare.