Highway Lights in Your Eyes

Like the salt melts the slug,
The highway lights in your eyes
Shrivels my fretful nerves and its shrieks.
Forgive my tongue
But my frantic words are of homeless despair
And everything that I angrily mutter
Is born from a wounded childhood freak

I am a bowing Satan to your muddy flesh,
And my tears of guilt peels my fire to flake
So I weep behind my wicked words and deeds.
Forgive my tongue
But they pitied my weakness
And drenched my cheeks into bloody petals
And my flesh with blasphemous bleach

I will give death its third and final kiss,
In the name of the highway lights in your eyes
And your curled up Godly scene.
Forgive my tongue
But it is concealed beneath your gleaming shadow
And it stutters its poetry
In the name of this poet's unworthy speech.

The Boy and The Shadow

The faint fluorescent lights on a Friday night,
In between the alleys of chattered whispers
The night gave its dress to a little boy,
So he skipped his way home
And gave a smile that eased his fear of twilight

As the time struck its song of slumber
And after the sun bled its light to death
On the Dom of the hill
A concrete shadow slithered amongst the rusty poles
And the wind blew away his presence to rustling leaves

Like a fag, the boy's smile was fettered into flicker
His novice eyes spoke of his silenced mouth
And on the gates of the cemetery
The shadow stabbed the boy's innocence
While God's might chose to hide within a praying cloud

The boy did not comprehend, condemn or complain
For his thirst was drenched with the shadow's climaxed dirt
And as the shadow withered with the night
And the cloud called the slaves to pray
The boy cried not his pain, but his shadowless fear of a Godless twilight

And as the boy's sorrow set sail with the years, he sighed:
"It is indeed our blood that ties me to your fate
But I turned that blood into water
And as for my innocence
I skipped my way home until I found it and I smiled
And I still smile"

Love

Morning stars and mystical roses
And the lady with the bastard child cried
"Our glory compares nothing to that of the dark eyed child
For they shine even greater than that crucified gesture to sin and God"
And so the lady burned herself in shame

And a Shepherd came along
With broken chains and bleeding stigmata
And as the wine dripped through his thirsty lips, he prayed
"Lord, by all means I let thy faith depart
For this child is the son and the father"

And in the holy land
The Wailing Wall crumbled
The temples grew dim
And the Euphrates wore its black dress
Sewed by the crying ink of the Holy Scriptures

And up above the seventh heaven
The throne was no more
The angels and their king kneeled down to the child
And the lord stood still
His words had betrayed him

And with the dominating color of his ominous eyes
The child conquered a crippled poet's mind
And with his weeping pious heart
The child cured the poet's teenage disease

And so, the poet's pen wrote with blasphemous blood
"I wrote of pain, but to you I'll write of love
Forgive my brain for it is vague
And my words are unworthy to your light
But I lost the battle with God
And my religion is now you"

Dear E

Dear E,
The pain was written within his temptation
And in the middle of the night
The eyeliner cried the dry tears he shed
And the eyes were not blind
But he thought he wept the truth into oblivion

Dear E,
I had never seen his demon until the night you arrived
The night you took a glimpse and left
He saw you not,
But your essence knocked his door at the reversed hour of Christ
And so it gave birth to the demon I had once saw in me

Dear E,
The purple child turned into a crimson Christ
And at dawn,
The Man of sorrows curled himself up to peace
And so he made his vows,
"I shall marry the fire without its heat"

Dear E,
I speak of the night where the eyes were blind
Not the night where the eyes chose not to see
I speak of his intoxicated night on Frige
Where in the name of the ides of March
The mind betrayed the heart

Dear E,
Abominate his friends his enemies
Take away his delusional empire in paradise
Eat out his knowledge
Obliterate his creativity and kill his poetry
For he can only shoot masterpieces in the dark

Dear E,
Indeed, the poet's pride is sickening
And it blazed his heavens down to a liquefied sorrow
But I thought the love has no eyes

Dear E,
The night where the eyes could deniably see
I ran to kiss your forehead a goodbye curse in the name of love
A curse that will keep you away from everyone but the poet

Dear E,
I worry about the poet
For he is damned with his goodbye curse
And the blood on his hands are of your color
And only your arrival can clear him of his deed.