Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Look into the Reaper’s eye
he’s looking back at you.
Gaze into my blackened heart
see the evil that men do.
Walk out into the blistering sun
let it parch your skin.
Count the wickedness,
do not call me friend
for I have seen heaven’s gate
closed to all my sin,
touched the sky with wrinkled hands
forced it to cry.
Do not morn my final days
I am quite prepared to die.

Wrap my coffin in black tar
cover it with a traitor’s veil.
Plant me six feet deep
let my soul burn in hell.
Keep my evil trapped within
the cursed soil where I rot.
Let my legacy die with me
remember me not.
Do not trust sweet memories
I assure you they mislead.
Worship not false pretense
or follow the demon’s creed.
Best to keep your mind behind
doors safely shut
because my traitorous soul
deserve no regret.

Look into the reaper’s eye
he’s looking back at you
Do not think redemption is
a reward for the things you do.
Life holds no blessings
every friend a thorn.
Every hope a bloody skirt
threadbare and torn.
Do not think you hold the key
the lock has done been picked.
Every treasure robbed by fate
destiny has been tricked.
You will come to understand
darkness is the light.
You will learn in good time
wickedness is might.
If you live righteously
it will be your Judas kiss.
If I did not warn you
I would be remiss.

Now I reap the fields I’ve sown
a crop of thorny weeds.
Every memory that I touch
only makes me bleed.
Hear my sordid tale,
listen closely to why
I say dreams are made of dust
blown into innocent eyes.
Beware of the Reaper’s stare
he watches and waits.
You’re just another soul
to be laid upon his plate.
Death is the only certainty
the only matter of fact.
Do not worship life blindly
for it will cut you little slack.
Worry not when blood runs dry
coffin’s nails in time will rust.
Memories will fade
in time all we are is dust.
5-10-06

do not take life for granted, live it to the fullest. Just thoughts

love lots

Yeah ann that and don't take it too serious, its just life. thank you for the comment it is appreciated. "C"

Let my Chindi free to escape to the void
After all these years I am still alive, cut me loose let me fly
It was hard for me to read your poem because the cigarette smoke kept getting in my eyes, coffin nails and the demon’s weed.

Smoke them if you got um
It is perfectly legal
LSMFT

Thanks the poem, just goofin with it.

I appreciate the inspiration.

I always take poetry like this seriously. I suppose I feed on negativity. I think poetry is a blood sport. Too many poets are martyrs to their work.

I like poetry that is not addressed to occupant, I forget what wise poet said that.

I think it was excellent work I am not knocking it.
Everything a GO for me these days. Everything a jam, language confusion and jam. There is no sarcasm in my appreciation of the inspiration

thanks again.
one edit here C

I think I like the word Flux better than Void. Maybe same thing, I will have to ask a Zen Buddhist. Maybe better yet a Navajo medicine man.

that the love that is coming out without your permisson is hard to contain
it seems like you want to hide it
that it makes you vulnerable?
at any rate i liked the way you wrote it
i am a wierdo that knows, not thinks that we are alot more than dust
your writing kind of indicates that it is full of alot of elements
beyond our control
kind of exciting yeah?

Still trucking, there are some who would say my poetry is the martyr, lmao, thank you for the comments and yes I was in a dark mood when I wrote this.
Thanks CS, I too beleive we are much more than dust and I know we take life much too seriously. Appreciate the comments. "C"