Time

Time

Time waits for beast nor man
In his time he will be forced to see
That his soul wanders the thin line
Of The moonlight's utter reality.

In time's nakedness the moon's glare
Filters the menacing gaze through space
And the werewolf evolves complete
And the man dissolves in its place.

Blood soaked nights filled with glory
Mud drained mornings from a demon''s hunt
He is the monster all seek at the full
But beware of his bite and his grunt.

A spell has ripped this creature into stalking
And he smells human feasts on the rise
But all he cannot do becomes his folly
For it is the werewolf in him, he will despise.

The tree cinder with letters of full light
And the beast from within contorts
But the man fights and he cannot stop it
Because his after bite life has been at sorts.

Distinguishing right from wrong never gives him way
But he tries to find his humanity within
As the demon seed and hunter of need
He is carefree but he knows not where he''s been.

Now as this changeling of the moon ignites
His fury and pain becomes his battle
But the man once was a sparkle in the eye
That now holds him to this hellish rattle.

The man tries but cannot escape his fear
Of one day running into a deadly snag
As he roams the night air and whispers
The names of his victims his memory lags.

To this, oh beast of the night come forth
And bring upon your troubled heart as grounds
For the beginning of your mystic voyage
Seeking the knowledge and truth renowned.

The Stranger

The Stranger

As he stalks his next of prey the beast
Licks his chops and dreams of the taste,
The feel, the rations, of human blood.

He seeks with his killer intent the victim
Of his agnostic decent picking on the perfect,
The pretty, the futile, of his perfect vision.

Monstrous he prowls through the night
With a sense of passion taking his prey to the end,
The realm, and the beginning of a sated breathe.

His eyes shine brilliant green and his native body
Ripples with effect throughout the blackness,
The Darkened life, the undergrowth of humanity.

Fur threatens his skin as it has many nights before
And the werewolf becomes almost to the point,
The transportation, the finishing of a well-made product.

Muscles flex with desires beyond any other being
And this creature begins his night as the fiend,
The monster, the blessed beast of the full moon.

A slave to this nonsense and he cannot make it out
For the man has dissipated through the travels,
The time, and the killing of other souls lonely as he.

Transformation coming along slow and exceptionally sure
Werewolf, where are you and will you be coming for me,
For my mother, for my father or are you satisfied with recent kills?

No longer a man, Now nothing but unstoppable beast
Oh, wolf will you creep along so silently waiting,
Preying, and hoping to begin your quest tonight?

Now he must search for what he does not know
But when he finds his answers he will take the time,
The kill, the life of the next mortal man he falls upon.

So, let this be a warning,lock your doors and beware
Be very ware of things that go bump in the night,
The cold, the dark for he could be waiting for you.

The Stalking

Copyright: 2/14/96
The Stalking

Muscles ripple and the coarse hair smooths
As the tiger fluently, breathlessly moves
Stalking his prey, ready to pounce
Undomesticated, every single ounce
Leisurely he saunters with every bit of grace
His prey unknowing, frozen into place
Green eyes slit and penetrate
Every uncanny motion, jaws agape
Stalking is just part of the cat's game
Prey flips and feels no pain.

Quiet and the undertaking too soon
The prey falls silently, cry of the loon
Teeth slash and gnarl his victim
Lashing and its life's blood turns dim
Boiling and pulsating it's surreal
The tiger comes in for the kill
Struggling stops and the unfortunate prey dies
The tiger drags it home, there it lies
The stalking begins and promptly ends
The tiger, king of the jungle, is knowing and never bends.

The Soldier

Copyright: 2/18/96
The Soldier

Soldier of fortune, hired killer
Realizing certain demise beyond hope
Stalks his prey in the dark moonlight
Unhappy fortune with the nerves of steel.

A hit-man for the undisputed military
Gets his man no matter what happens
Encompassing wrong doing makes it right
Unloading all the weapons he can carry.

He's a loner, no family to speak of
Get's his kicks out of mass murder
Does anyone really understand him?
Does he come from hell or above?

In a time again, in a city before
Life goes on as the city slumbers
Dregs of humanity roaming the streets
The pumping heart beats blood to the core.

Men, women and children running scared
Scraping together ends meeting
Chaos and cunning rape the young
Fight the warrior if you dare.

The soldier is the watcher of men
Innocent and feeling lie face down
Redemption claims them and he wins
Living the life forever in doubtful sin.

Life as we know it comes to a halt
The soldier takes revenge quickly
The world, a ball of fire, burns bright
To the soldier hero we exalt.

His fortune seeks no one man
He thrives on life blood and meat
If he rules hand and foot past
For now he runs worldly doing what he can.

The soldier breaks for no known plea
The soldier destroys the land's evil
The soldier fights for our own rights
The soldier enters and locks the key.

Soldier fortune contempt's the young
Soldier fortune takes the only spirit
Soldier fortune breaks all the laws
Soldier fortune rules and he's done.

The Serpent

Copyright:2/19/98
The Serpent

All knowing
All seeing
All is forgiven.

So negative
So wrong
So much for freedom.

Made a slave in His likeness
Forced out of my home
The garden blooms insanity
Fruit bearing, all is just.

Made to lie down on my belly
Slithering from place to place
Sand is rough and yet smooth
Life could be better, life in hell.

Taken my arms and legs away
Rolling down heaven's fallen hillside
Rocks are thrown as I'm cast out
Living life's edge in the agonizing gray.

Cast out and down
To the very depths
Hell's my domain
Watch the sinners drown.

Cast aside and asunder
Religious stranglehold
The inferno burns here
Watch the sinners plunder.

An angel of hell - All knowing
Blind angel of hate - All seeing
Treacherous angel of fate - All is forgiven.

A man in sheep's clothes - So negative
A man preaching God - So wrong
Deciphel man gives a nod - So much for freedom.

The Price Of Stardom

The Price of Stardom
Copyright: Demented Thinking Producitons 1998

Sally  Kincaid was a beautiful woman. Her dark red hair draped down across her  small, milky shoulders. Sally adorned herself with lavish facials and  massages, treating her beauty to the finer things in life. Once a week  it was an expense she endured, but it was all for the best. Sally could  afford it, she could afford anything, she was rich even beyond her own  belief. She was a Kincaid and the very name bred wealth and prosperity.

Sally  arose early, excited about the possibilities of another day in the  comfort and complete pampering she had been receiving every since she  was a little girl living in that big mansion on Timber Lane. It was a  beautiful place with great huge oak trees lining the long pebbled  driveway and more roses a person could count everywhere. The roses, of  course, were her mother’s idea. She loved them so, and Sally tended to  think they were rather nice herself. The old mansion on Timber Lane was  especially pretty in the summer time. They had a huge pond to swim in  with the ducks lining the sides, taking their sweet time drinking and  eating on the lush vegetation surrounding the pond.

Sally  brushed her lovely long hair 100 times this morning in front of her  mirror on the make-up table as she did every morning like clockwork.  Gazing into the ancient mirror with gold inlays, Sally marveled at her  spectacular beauty and puckered her lips in a pretend Marilyn Monroe  kiss. Vanity, Sally felt, was one of her strong points, and to this day  no one has disputed it.

She’d  gaze in the mirror for hours if she didn’t have such a busy schedule  these days. A gorgeous model like her has numerous photo shoots,  layouts, and commercials planned for months to come jumbling up her  schedule to the brink.

Smiling  to herself as she carefully put on her backless black dress Sally  remembered being a young girl of twelve enrolling in every beauty  pageant that was offered. Quite frequently she won first prize. Sally  gazed up at her many trophies littering the shelves in her room and  smiled.

Talent  was another strong point of Sally’s. She was an accomplished violinist  and that, as well, came with certain responsibilities just like the  modeling career. Next month she had been invited to play with the  London Symphony Orchestra, and because of her stardom and talent she  would respectfully accept their gracious offer to fly her first class  to England all expenses paid and play for a few songs. Sally was quite  excited about this prospect and talked about it in length with other  friends and family. How she refuses such an honor? She could not let  her public and fans down, after all they awaited her every move all  over the world with bated breath. The only thing that concerned her was  flying. Sally did not like to fly. It terrified her if the truth be  known. Planes are small and cumbersome and have been known to catch on  fire from time to time. And if there was anything she hated the most,  it was fire. It burned and hurt so bad... Sally shook her head clearing  the thoughts rummaging around within. No, Sally Kincaid was an  honorable woman and she would go to England and serve her public with  her enormous presence. But, the fire... Sally violently shook her head  back and forth shaking the vision from her mind’s eye, “Best not to  think of that, darling,” Sally said to herself.

Sally  sat back down at her dressing table and blinked for a moment. She had  no knowledge of how she came to be standing at that point in time, but  there she was standing there in the middle of the room in a coiled  position. “Well, that was strange, darling,” Sally spoke to herself  again.  Shaking her head she began to apply her make-up  evenly and carefully. Starting with the eyes Sally mused, “Must look  natural. That’s good for your public, darling, always look natural.”  Sally administered the rest of her make-up quickly.

Once  finished, Sally looked at her watch and realized it was almost time for  Ruthledge to bring her the big breakfast she’d had ordered. She always  took breakfast in her room now that she was a star. Sally never knew  when a adoring fan would pop up and want an autograph, so a few years  back she took to having breakfast in the quiet of her own bedroom.

Taking  one last noticeable lasting look in the mirror, Sally began to turn  away when out of the corner of her eye she noticed an ugly flaw in the  mirror itself. Sally stepped closer to get a better look and the flaw  shifted around the edges and into the middle. It seemed to sway and  melt before her eyes. Sally stood agape as she helplessly watched the  mirror perform its transition. Quickly closing her eyes and wishing it  away, Sally took a deep breath slowly counting to ten. “One, Two,  Three...” Sally mumbled incoherently, “Four, Five, Six...,” Sally’s  voice intensified and began to tremble ever so slightly, “Seven, Eight,  Nine, Ten!” Sally slowly opened her eyes and looked, hoping, praying  the appendage was gone. It was and Sally breathed a sigh of relief.  “It’s got to be all this pressure I’m under. I must have Ruthledge take  a look at that mirror. My mind is just playing tricks on me,” Sally  said with more assurance than she truly felt.

The  huge steel door to her room unlatched with an uneven clanking sound  giving away to a high pitched squealing. If Sally noticed she certainly  did not jump or react in any way. Sally always kept her room locked  tightly against any of her public who may want to pry into her private  life. Even though she loved her fans, she did not want them barging  into her room and parading around asking all sorts of questions while  she was trying to dress or make herself beautiful. It was just plain  rude, and one thing Sally Kincaid did not like was rudeness.

The  cumbersome door skidded to a halt and Ruthledge appeared from behind  like a man on trail. “Oh Ruthledge, it’s so good to see you, darling!”  Sally exclaimed, “I’m absolutely famished. What did you bring me this  morning, dear?” The man gave Sally a puzzled look and confessed, “I’m  not Ruthledge, Miss Kincaid.” Sally glared at the man and for a moment  he wasn’t sure what she would do. A big bright smile came over her face  and she politely said, “Well, sure you are, darling. You wear the same  thing every day. It’s the same white uniform I picked out for you three  years ago at the department store, don’t you remember?” Without  allowing the man a chance to answer, Sally turned her attention to her  plate signaling that the conversation was closed. It was the only way  she could do it. With help these days you just had to be abrupt, they  never knew when to go away. The young man rolled his eyes in disgust  and quietly left the tiny box-like white room.

Sally  ate slowly chewing each bite 32 times and savoring the wonderful flavor  of each morsel. She put down her fork in a robotic fashion after every  bite and fiddled with the napkin she always placed in her lap. Manners  were another strong point of Sally’s. Sally always demonstrated good  manners every since she was a tiny child. She always ate with her  elbows off the table, she always picked the correct fork, spoon and  knife, and she chewed with her mouth closed. She was so perfect even  God smiled down on her and said, “Wow! That is a perfect specimen!”  Whisking away the last bite, Sally checked her watch again. “Oh dear,”  she gasped, “I have a meeting with my agent in 10 minutes, I’m going to  be late!” Sally quickly gathered her purse and gloves, checked her face  one more time in the mirror and left her tiny room to greet her public  on the way to see Mr. Stevenson her brilliant agent.

As  she glided down the white, immaculate hallway she greeted her public  enthusiastically with smiles, hugs and autographs. Sally was usually  quick to explain she was in a hurry for an important meeting with Mr.  Stevenson and she could not spend the time with them that she would  like right now, but later she would sit with them and talk. For the  most part, most of them understood her busy schedule with the exception of Miloh Tillston. Miloh was a dear, sweet friend whom she cherished  beyond any other. He was a smart man, and just like her he was a star  too. Sally relished in his tales of what goes on during the filming of  the action movies he acts in. Miloh is a regular rough and tough Arnold  Schwarzenegger, but cute and handsome just like Mel Gibson. Sally adored  Miloh with all her heart, and if she wasn’t so busy with contracts and  endless photo shoots she would settle down and marry Miloh or at least  have a fling with him. But, for now she had a groundbreaking meeting to  get to. Miloh escorted her down the sterile white corridor while they  discussed both of their careers and the importance that they above all  remain friends no matter what.

As  Sally approached Mr. Stevenson’s door the reminiscent butterflies  scrambled around in her stomach. Every time right before their twice a  week meetings the same sense of dread crept up and gave Sally a nasty  bout of nausea. Taking a deep breath to relieve it as much as possible,  Sally rapped lightly on the door and without waiting for a reply barged  in and sat across from Mr. Stevenson on a black leather couch.

Mr.  Stevenson sat behind his desk glancing through a rather large file  making notes on the sides. Without looking up Stevenson said, “How are  we doing today, Sally?” Sally fidgeted for a moment and said nothing.  She rubbed the edges of her purse while intently watching Mr. Stevenson  write the last bit of notes he had and put down his pen on the desk  next to the file. “Well?” He said, prodding. Stevenson waited for a  reply as Sally squirmed slightly as if in deep thought. After a long  pause and overwhelming silence, Sally replied, “Ruthledge came by this  morning with my breakfast.” Stevenson’s bushy eyebrows rose in  disbelief, “Did he now?”

“Yes, and he insisted he wasn’t Rutledge all. Isn’t that the funniest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Indeed  it is.” Stevenson replied as he began jotting down notes again on the  enormous file sitting opened on his desk. “He rolled his eyes around  when he left. I had my back to him and he thinks that I did not see,  but I know. I felt it,” Sally interjected excitedly. “Of course, you  did.”

“I’m not stupid you know.”

“Oh,  I know Miss Kincaid. You’re quite a smart one aren’t you?” Ignoring the  sarcasm in Stevenson’s voice Sally began to rattle almost so quickly  that Stevenson had to really listen without telling her to slow down.  “Not like some of my public, you know.” Stevenson scrawled a few notes,  briefly looked up and commented, “No, not at all like them, are you?”  Sally kept babbling as if she never heard Stevenson’s comment, “Some  them just stare blankly at me as if they are in awe of my beauty. They  know a star when they see one.”

Stevenson  quickly scribbled a few more notes and bluntly said, “I’m sure they do.  Now let’s get down to business. How do you feel today, Miss Kincaid?” A  long silence hung in the air before Sally began answering, “Well...  This morning there was a flaw in my mirror, or at least I thought there  was, but I closed my eyes and counted to ten and my wonderful face was  staring back at me again.”   “Um...Hmm.” “It’s funny,”  Sally continued without paying any attention to Stevenson’s thoughtful  response, “...How one’s mind can play tricks on them, isn’t it?” Sally  smiled big and bright with a little chuckle to sell the uncomfortable  feeling overwhelming her while she talked about the mishap with the  jaded mirror. Mr. Stevenson put his pen down and looked at Sally for a  long moment before answering, “Yes it is. Does your mind often play  these...uh...tricks on you?” Sally laughed openly and out loud, “Now,  Mr. Stevenson, you know my mind is as sharp as a tack!” Stevenson  regarded Sally for a moment with slight surprise and before she  realized it was surprise he looked at her with he bent his head back  down to his notes and began scrawling furiously again. “Tell me, Sally,  has your mirror ever...uh...faltered like this before?”  Sally  fidgeted with her purse strap and said with a big pasted on smile she  had to work at to force on her face, “Well, yes, but I don’t see the  importance in really telling you. I mean, it’s such a little thing, you  know.”   “Well, nothing in this business is little,  Sally.” Sally laughed and slapped her knee hard, “Don’t I know it!  That’s what I keep telling Miloh.” Deep in though again Stevenson  replied with a, “Um...Hmm.” Sally’s smile faltered a little as she  said, “Other than that, I feel fine. I’ve many, many things going for  me, thanks to you, Mr. Stevenson.”

“Oh,  How so, Sally.” Stevenson replied with a raised eyebrow. “Well, there’s  that photo shoot. Oh, and that wonderful layout. And, the best of all,  that big commercial coming up next month! I owe it all to you, Mr.  Stevenson. I couldn’t of done it without you! You’re a wonderful agent  and I just love you to pieces for it!” Stevenson regarded with extreme  sympathy for a moment before he frowned and finally answered, “Miss  Kincaid, do you know where you are?” Sally’s broad smile fell from her  face and threw clinched teeth she countered, “Sure I do. I’m in your  office talking about my job.”

“No, I mean overall, do you know where you are?”

“Overall,  I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Stevenson.” Stevenson spread his  hands out over his desk, “Overall! Outside this office, the entire  complex you live in now. Do you know where you really are, Sally?”  Sally looked at Stevenson for a moment completely dumbfounded, “Well, I  live in an apartment complex not too far from here. I share it with  some of my adoring fans and my dear, sweet friend Miloh. They all adore  me, even though they say nothing I know in here,” Sally points to her  heart with her hand, “I know, I see it in their eyes,” Sally’s voice  began to trembled as she continued, “I receive a facial and a massage  once a week and I share coffee and conversation about his and my  stardom with Miloh on many occasions during the week.” Stevenson cut  her off with a wave of his hand, “Miss Kincaid...Sally, Look I know  it’s hard for you, but you do not live in an apartment complex, this is  a hospital. Miloh is not an actor; he’s a patient just like you with a  certain amount of problems. These people here are not you fans, most of  them don’t even know who they are nor do they care. You’ve been through  an awful lot,” Stevenson’s voice softened as he continued, “You’ve been  through a lot in your life, Sally. The fire was really bad. Do you  remember the fire that killed your parents, Sally?” Sally’s face  reddened as the crocodile tears began to stream down her swollen face  racing to her neck and she mumbled, “I..., Don’t like fire,” quietly.  “Well, I would suspect not given your circumstances, Sally.” Stevenson  soothed calmly, “Look, Sally you suffered a great deal in the past 15  years. I realize it’s hard for you to come to grips with what you have  lost, but I know deep down inside you know the real truth, and you have  to dig down and remember the bad things to move on to the good ones,  don’t you?” Bigger tears rolled down Sally’s cheeks as she remembered  small flashbacks from that fatal night 15 years ago. The screams, the  flames, oh, God the pain. It hurt so bad. Sally remembered the final  inhuman sounding screams escaping from her parents’ bedroom as they  died in the flames. Sally remembered the third degree burns that  roasted 90 percent of her body including her beautiful face. Her hands  flew up to her face, “Oh God, my face, my beautiful face!” Sally broke  out into a whole new line of sobs. “They were good to me, you know.  Daddy worked so hard to get the money to buy my gowns for the pageants,  and momma sewed and stitched together the other ones we couldn’t  afford.” Stevenson nodded in agreement, but said nothing as Sally  continued, “They didn’t deserve to die! I didn’t deserve this face or  this body! Why! Why did this happen to me! I looked so...so...so  beautiful!” Sally’s body racked with sobs as she completely broke down.  Stevenson flipped a switch on his desk silently signaling the nurse for  her assistance, within seconds a tiny black haired nurse named Nancy  Brighton appeared, “Yes, doctor?”

“Make  sure Miss Kincaid makes it back to her room safely and give her this  medication from the pharmacy,” Stevenson quickly scrawled a  prescription out and handed it to Nancy Brighton, “Now, Sally, the  quicker you face what really happened and began to deal with it the  faster you will heal and you will one day go out into the real world  and do something meaningful to society. But, first you must stop this  fantasy land or else you will staying here for a long time to come,  okay?” Still sobbing uncontrollably, Sally eeked out an, “Okay, DR,  Stevenson,” in compliance and went with the nurse back to her white  room with one pristine hospital bed, one simple nightstand, and one  padded chair.

Sally  Kincaid sat for hours after rocking in her chair seeing her perfect  mirror and her perfect face in a perfectly good insane asylum.

The Pond

The Pond
Copyright - 02/12/98

A frog springs from the lily pad
A steady breeze blows from the north
The frog leaps again making tiny waves
As they sweetly caresses the white lilies
A frog eyes a fly closely
Perceiving its every stuttered move
A fly buzzes nonchalantly into a frog's view
The frog slaps the fly with its leathery tongue
A fly is ingested
A fly knows no more.

A frog bounces to a weather-beaten rock
A toad appears at the pond's far end
The pond ripples signifying the toad's presence
The frog feels un-alone and sanctified
A toad smiles and releases a deep sigh
Nerves wreck the frog's very fiber
As the toad moves gracefully forward
The frog looks left then right
A frog meets demise quickly
A toad keeps score.

A toad prides himself on his cunning ability
A fish swims silently beneath
The toad leaps happily back and forth
The fish awaits patiently with bated breath
A toad senses things amiss in his great pond
A toad sweats and fastidiously peers about unsure
The fish swirls to the pond's surface
The toad becomes uneasy and jittery
In one fatal bite the fish takes the toad
A toad knows no more.

A fish relaxes as cool water flows over its gills
Swimming without care, he is now king
A man sits on a log skipping stones into the pond
The fish pays no attention
A man drops a fishing line into the quaint little pond
And even though the fish is sated
The fish is tempted by his fresh new find
The fish paddles groggily in obvious debate
A fish takes the bait
Man evens the score.

A man sits on the edge of the famed pond
Beaming about his new catch of the day
The man sits unafraid and un-alert
The man realizes not his fate
A lion surveys the scene from a close distance
A lion licks his lips watching
The man cooks his own kill
A lion begins his quiet climb
The lion attacks, the man feels no pain
A man knows no more.

A lion suns himself on a large rock at the end of the pond
A poisonous snake drifts silently through the water
The lion licks himself satisfied
The poisonous snake slithers in closer
A lion closes his eyes for a long awaited nap
A lion lightly dozes in the sunlight
The snake moves to the same rock sharing the sun
A lion turns his head looking for the intruder
The snake lashes out his deadly poison
A poisonous snake settles the score.

A poisonous snake's tongue whips back and forth
The lion has stopped twitching for some time
A poisonous snake coils beside the lion
A man walks evenly through the underbrush
The snake bides his time
The man approaches carefully seeing the snake
The poisonous snake moves slightly for a better sunspot
A man wields his hunting knife in the air
A snake strikes too late
Man betters the score.

The Moon Of Doom

The Moon of Doom
Written - 01/23/00

On this dreary night he roams through the empty streets
And he knows not his impending doom for he only believes
That he can live forever, but he is sure to see his fate
From his hiding place in the shadows near and far
Of this night he can say that love and time has faded away.

The beast within knows the untimely bounds of death
And life is just a stones throw away from his past
As he is now the hunted one lurking in the alleys
But does he know his life is at stake this moonlit night
And why does he hide when he is the aggressor and full with pride.

For he knows his time is short and he cannot make humans forget
His deeds of the past, for they do not understand his yearning
They do not understand his triumph, his pain, his agony
And they will strike him down in his hour or complete need
For the humans only see what they want and know where he should be.

This beast of night, oh how does he run when humans know the secrets?
Yet he stands true and fights when cornered and remembers very little
But this beast of the night will die before dawn from the relentless
And reckless misunderstanding of human ideas and thoughts
This beast deserves the finality of death, but can he yet preserve.

Alas, the wolf tracks his prey and cannot help himself as he feeds
On the weakness of death and the clueless importance’s of life
Oh, woe to you, the human who dares trap him and cross him
Woe to those who have kept him and how he flexes and pounces
Will the beast take human captives or will he himself live?

The Lovers Dance

Copyright - 3/8/00
The Lover’s Dance

He leaps into a shroud of darkness
As he defies his abysmal counterpart
No light, no fear shall comfort him
Bonded by the blood that beats in him still
The pure blood of evil
The dismal blood of afterlife.

This overbearing Lord and black
Shroud suffocate his immortal thirst
No happiness, no love becomes him
Yet the thoughts and patterns concern him
The thoughts of intimacy
The forgotten thoughts of killing.

He runs through tomb after tomb
Searching for his longingly lost love
No life, no forgetfulness shall obey
He longs to suffer for his mate in battle
He suffers for her
He rudely suffers for life itself.

The intoxicating glow of his vibrant
Violet eyes seizing her captive glance
No sounds, no pity as he sweeps her
A lover’s dance of truth and honesty beguiles him
A dance of insight
A brutal dance of new life.

A lumbering 500 years past into
Darkened evil now made whole and bright
No beginnings, no ends to this dreadful mean
Her grasps turn to polite sighs and his heart swells still
Her gasps broken and unfounded
Her sighs grip his heart.

The potent but faint beating of
Her tiny heart quells his hunger
No outside world abated, no importance of glandular
She succumbs to his power and becomes the thirst
The thirst of love
The new thirst of life.

This overbearing Lord once so
Shrouded in utter insightful darkness
No emptiness, no time for love
Has now forgiven life and stepped forth into light
Into the light of love
Into the bleak light of a lover’s dance.

The Lost Angel

Copyright: 2/20/98
The Lost Angel

I fell to earth
You know me.

My wings fled disabled
Am I free?

My knees are scabbed
Can't you see?

What of death and hell
I can be...

Your leader, your brother, your mother, your father.

The fire burns in my soul
What is this?

Contemplating my deliverance
Hit and miss.

I can no longer fly here
I just hiss.

I shall rise again and rule
In chaotic bliss.

As your mother, your sister, your friend, your leader.

There will come a time
When I fight back
No reason or rhyme
I will attack.

But be so aware
Of my discriminating wrath
Revenge of hell's stare
Burning and you'll crash.

(chorus)

The lost angel, lost no more
Do my bidding, be my whore
The lost angel, with scabs and sores
My servants settle the score.

The Looking Glass

Written: 11/16/90
copyright 1991 Demented Thinking Productions
The Looking Glass

Inevitable predictions of space and time
A dream of the nightmare to follow
Realizing the serge of pain in my mind
Knowing one less exists on my planet sorrow.

Dreaming around the witching hour, half past
Floating thru darkness on a road once there
Reaching below me something just within my grasp
Above all control is lost no pain to bare.

(pre-chorus)

Waking- Bad dreams haunt my brain
Reality- Premonitions remain
Knowing- Death has taken his victim
Finding- Out- the future is grim.

(chorus)

Observe verity unfold in front of my eyes
Unable to stop this madness
Aware while watching my loved ones die
The all seeing eye in the looking glass.

A woman lies on her death bed weak from disease
Her man by her side while she sleeps
He whispers softly, "Don't leave me, please."
She gives up the ghost while he weeps.

Envision riding man and predicting his fate
Discovering later of his brutal homicide
Tried to warn him, but now it's too late
Now he rides clouds on his Harley in the sky.

(repeat pre-chorus)

(repeat chorus)

(bridge)

The power of knowing in advance what's to be
Has been bestowed upon only me
No way to stop it knowing they are going to die
Words I know quite well, here they lie
Growing feelings of darkness on the rise
Clairvoyant predictions of their demise
Dreaming death emotional scars run deep
The salt shifts through while I sleep.

(chorus #2)

The all seeing eye in the looking glass
That's what I am and always will be
The all seeing eye in the looking glass
Look into the future death is all I see.

No need for a crystal ball when you're the all seeing eye in the looking glass.

The Knave

Copyright: 3/10/98
The Knave

I'll see you in hell
Where we all reside
Give your soul to the spell
And let it ride.

Don't be afraid
Don't be stupid
You may be spared
For what you did.

Vengeance will take you
To your grave
You'll play the fool
The joker, the knave.

Don't look ahead
Don't look for answers
You'll be dead
For your cancer.

If you think you've beat me and I'm down
Think again, because I'm still around
If you think ignoring me will make me go away
Check yourself, I'm stronger today.

The Hunger

Copyright: 2/19/98
The Hunger

In the darkness, the flight is refreshing
A first kill for a man with will
Wings glide over cities slums
A first time for a man seeking crime.

Cannot be stopped
Blood drives him
Whisper of the moon
On the brink, the rim.

Blood surges through his veins, enticing
A second victim he claims future grim
Exhilarating and pulsating so alive
A second one he takes it's done.

Cannot be stopped
Thirst gives into hunger
Blood is gold and dug
He fly's out in a blur.

Insatiable, but rare
The hunger you find it at night
Feeding leaving us bare
Never give in without a fight.

Blood lust, but clean
The hunger unifies him as time
Feeding leaving unseen
Robbed the casket, an undead crime.

The Curse

Copyright:11\2\98
The Curse

I see inside
But you don't know
I know you lied
And it's time to go.

I see the truth
But you don't care
The point is mute
Now you just stare.

(pre-chorus)

As the sun reflects the night
Time shifts and salts the opening
Robbed me of the power of right
Only death can it bring.

As you sit and reflect past life
Time takes it's toll and ages you
Robbed and stumbling on the edge of a knife
Death regrets nothing, starts anew.

(chorus)

The curse
Now you will kneel
The curse
A time to kill.

Wickedness breeds
Deep from within
Planting seeds
Living with my sin.

Hatred must drive
Insanity to the brink
Somehow alive
Straighten the kink.

(repeat pre-chorus)

(repeat chorus)

(bridge)

In the night I fade from the light of day
As your life lies at my stained feet
I sink my teeth in and you're betrayed
Killing power bestowed in everyone I greet.

(repeat pre-chorus)

(repeat chorus)

The Crow's Nest

Copyright: 3/10/2000
The Crows Nest

A black bird of great potential flies through the midnight air
Wandering and scoping for the demon's lair
As he happens upon the roost of life lost in dusk
He nears the fatal atrocities and stills the hush.

Large and unbridled he flies unwavering into the sky
And rests upon a man about to die
The crow who sees all and lives in heart and mind
Begins his survey of life and death behind.

Spirits engage in treason and rust from the grave
And men draw fear from the people he once saved
This bird of prey with definitive ways
Brings us our most cherished days.

A messenger of light and the blackest dark
Tails the lovers, friends, and family making a mark
The crow who foes endure in moments of agony
Will succumb to none in the vision of his tragedy.

Deepest souls renown with honor and glory
As the crow sheepishly perches upon me
The crows nest is lively and full
Pouring the outcast out from this pool.

As midnight falls and the demons strike from their graves
The crow begins with a whooping bray
He descends upon the fearful with blackened eyes
And for now the apparitions will say their goodbyes.

The cemetery settles and all is calm but not lost
It's the crow’s nest captured in the middle of the toss
The emancipated his followers again on this night
To be free of the doom and death's cold bite.

The Child

The Child
Copyright - 2/1/96

The child sits undisturbed in a corner
Quiet and alone
No man or woman to care
Small and weak
The child sits in a corner
Leaves without a sound.

The child cries silently to himself
Feeling down and belittled
No one to care or watch
Cold and in solitude
The child cries silently to himself
Abused almost killed.

Degrading circumstances
Unreal love to bare
Reality enhances
Life in the demon's lair.

The child sobs costly in the dark
In his crumpled bed
No love sharing with his elders
Lost child gone
The child sobs costly
In his own head.

The child hides behind real tears
Alone inside
Parental guidance means nothing
Lost love gone
The child hides behind his tears
Time to abide.

Unusual love approval
Nothing to surrender
Life void and null
Unhappy package sender.

The child weeps
While he sleeps
Soul to keep
Scars run deep.

The Blood I Crave

Copyright - 2000
The Blood I Crave

Into the night I fly above the trees
And grace unsightly beginnings
He watches from his perch, afar
And dreams me into substance
For he, like I are one in the same
And his heart pumps so strong
I forgive my life of sin for he.

He is the wind and the stars
And I meld into his everlasting arms
He waits for me on the other side
And bares all mental consequences
As I lead him away and look deep inside
And his love shines through the grave
Filtering the open painful scars.

Of life and love we share together
And our blood runs deeper than streams
He learns from me as I from him
And in part our reality sets the sun
As he takes my hand in his
And caresses my inner strength
With his alibi of love and forbidden care.

The blood I crave becomes from only him
And the moon and universe wrap around
As we delve into emotional needing
And pleasing him begins foremost
I know he allows me the blood I crave
And he leaves me the blood I crave
He will protect me from my inner sins.

Stricken

Copyright: 8/8/98
Stricken

The man, surely in panic screams with terror
Horror and sublime interest grip his awaiting soul
The beast has come to devour
The feast begins here.

As its teeth gnash and peel at his flesh he sighs
Time has abruptly come to a horrid end
The thing is stalking in the night
The man is stricken.

In definitely, the man struggles against his attacker
And he feels the sensation of trickling blood from his pores
The close is upon him
The beast evokes his habit.

With sheer horrifying will, the man manages to grab hold
To its horn with some inner strength he new not of possessing
The light is coming
The hour in time of need.

It rears its ugly head and pursues the man, reveling in capture
And with every step, the man bogs down in trenched soot
The end is near
The man is stricken.

Clawing frantically to anything of particular hold the man weeps
For he knows not what is chasing him, but with certainty knows his fate
The man's struggle finished
The man stretches a dying hand.

As the man prays for darkness to take him and for this horror to stop
He realizes his folly and breathes easily for it is not his life
But that of a dream.
The man is stricken.

Skin Art

Copyright:2/16/96
Skin Art

Color or black-green
It doesn't matter
Get a peace sign
Or the mad hatter.

The sun is blazing
But you don't notice
Can you take the pain?
Take a risk.

Check the art for flaws
If you absolutely can
Get one on your arm
Break the hourglass of sand.

Paint your left leg
If you really dare
Feel the jittering needle
Tattoo something rare.

Go under the needle
Whenever you want
Big or small
Pain's a ghost haunt.

Tat your back or chest
Simulate a monster
Or get a goofy teddy bear
Coming from the dumpster.

If you can take the pain
If you're prepared for black rain
If you need a little swaying
Or a tattoo without paying.

You can find a place easy
Not too dark too sleazy
They will do what you please
And bring you to your knees.

Silent Rage

Silent Rage
Copyright - 1/25/96

Racism darkens our clouded doorways
Black and white
Men thriving on flesh and blood
Black and white.

Silently a man rages against wrongs
The human race
Taken to the streets surprising effects
The human race.

God made us all, we tear it apart
Together as one
Time to stop, get on the right track
Together as one.

Race is instilled in every man, woman and child
No way of living
Society deemed we should hate
No way of living.

Putting everything aside now
For better or worse
Kick it in the ass and send it away
For better or worse.

Silent Rage

Written: 5/22/95
Copyright Demented Thinking Productions 1998
Silent Rage

An ordinary man sits alone, his head in his hands
Waiting for justice from his racial reprimand
Black and white fight like cats and dogs
Spinning in circles we can't seem to beat the fog.

We're thrown together to deal with the hate
But we drift apart and seal our only fate
Alliance should rush and pulse in our veins
Remove the mask and only madness remains.

(pre-chorus)

What does it take to get along?
Can't you see prejudice is wrong?
When do we start to work together?
And make it through this stormy weather.

(chorus)

When hatred feeds the fire
Man becomes a lair
When people notice skin color
Silent rage recovers.

People are the same with the same feelings
Our own future a game, risk we're dealing
No one can see our world crumbling around us
Our last words ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Streets are corrupt with violence and drugs
Warming to the enemy our graves are dug
Now in our fighting existence pain only remains
How did our lives get so insane?

(pre-chorus)

What does it take to see eye to eye?
Now all that remains are lies
How many young lives do we sacrifice?
What disaster do we entice?

(chorus)

(bridge)

Silent rage
Into the cage
Men are created equal
Harkening the call
Silent rage
Trapped in a maze
See your fellow man
Lend him a hand.

(pre-chorus)-2nd

(chorus)

Sighting

Copyright: 2/2/96
Sighting

It lands in an open corn field full of promise
Strange and unusual fits, the ship sent galaxies kiss
Foreign heads, hands, and bodies hit and miss
A small door closes with a hiss
Footsteps walk unsure amongst the grit
Falling down into the abyss
The smoke is amiss
Chaos is bliss
World eclipsed
Sighting.

Lazer fire loss of life and limb it never ceases
Aliens take control of the world there's no peace
No red blooded Americans left, death on increase
Healthy and strong aliens invade, attack bees
Nowhere to run we must flee
Aliens cower a new lease
Be gone, come please
A weapons seize
World teased
Sighting.

Seize Control

Copyright:2/14/96
Seize Control

They try to take our first amendment
Rights we seriously try to defend
The right to bare arms is important
The government strikes us with stupidity
Getting rid of guns is not the answer
Criminals find theirs on the black market
Do they know?
Do they care?

The plain percentages show the criminals
Have the upper hand in all of this
How do we defend ourselves?
At the hands of the misguided
Crime will still yield unyielding weapons
Criminals will go free without a fight
Do they know?
Do they care?

Politicians look to control average citizens
We have rights and we stand by them
Criminals have the judicial ears bent
Getting rid of guns won't solve anything
The criminal will just find another means
A knife, pipe, baseball bat or bare hands
Where do they go?
Tell me where.

If Americans stop and look at statistics
New York has one of the highest rates
Guns have been banned there
And criminals still run rampant
They have just as many problems as before
And there is no cure in sight
Is it so?
How do we know?

American people should demand their rights
To bare arms and not give up
Crime will find another way to plunder
And we will be cast asunder
If we don't stop the stupidity now
Things will be barren
How do we stop it?
And take away the black market.

Seething

Seething
Written - 05/20/00

Oh, you dark and vile creature how I hunt your existence
As I find you I know you shall be unfortunate and willing
As I find the answers to my beloved's death I will
Seek your mane as payment and get my revenge worth
For the ghost of evil cannot, will not live forever
And I will hunt you ''til the day I meet my maker
Oh, you ignorant fool how I pity your fruitless attempts
And I give you everlasting life through the slight of death.

Oh, you evil bastard demon of the dead of night
I will not succumb to your life in my contempt
And I will hunt you and your children ''til they die
Upon your death I am the truth you seek and the power
You will not devour my strength, I now live it out
In front of your dying breathless rags and my rage
Envelopes your virile consciousness and I know
Oh, you unbeliever of the silver night of lies, take your final breath.

Oh, you shallow troubled fiend, you shall bow to my feet
As a human I will see you bleed and the time is soon
You have made your last hunt and your last kill
My reality takes your thin shred of life and decomposes it
Until you are therefore drained of your last right to the night
I shall rule your clan and end their sorrow in time
But, for not my love I will vow to you that dying is near
And the silver that protrudes from my weapon remarks your name.

Oh, you infantile unworthy monster I have watched you so
And I know your travel better than you for you are indefinitely
A immortal creature of habit and I will not be forsaken from my
Mortal task as I know the taste of revenge is so sweet
And for my beloved I make you sure of my intentions
As for you ending the insane game of moonlit nights
Woe to you beast and be clear that your time here
Has depleted into a nonexistent future of the same.

Seclusion

Copyright by Demented Thinking Productions 1998
Seclusion

Space is blandly empty, bleak and devout of time and understanding. Time escapes the normal bound in space, and emptiness configures the reality of stars rushing past a portal window in the deep black void of nothingness. But, Space is not without faults of it's own. The blackness which encases those who dare to unleash it's brutal powers always call to the unaware and the young at heart. For Steve Donovan, a self proclaimed human arms dealer operating within the confines of the Gamma Sector galaxies away from his home planet of earth, misunderstandings and emptiness plague his every day life with their inconsistencies. No doubt humans are the weaker life form in the offset Gamma Sector where most humans, if they are smart, take heed and stay away from the thousands of alien races waiting to rage their vengeance upon humanoid heads, but Steve preferred his seclusion and privacy. The Gamma Sector, for Steve, provided all the privacy he needed and dared to hunger for. Space was the only place he could think straight. The enormous glowing stars guided his travels and he was as happy as any arms dealer would be while constantly looking over his shoulder. His life was a dangerous one, but a profitable one as well. Steve made friends just as easily as he made enemies. He was a loner and liked it that way. But, for Steve Donovan perhaps the biggest scare of his mortal life happened along unexpectedly about 8 months ago.

Donovan sailed the Gamma Sector every day of his adult life. He choose the area because it was the most profitable. Alien races would not be accustomed to seeing eye to eye and pulling together as a whole, therefore they fought like cats and dogs, and Steve capitalized on their shortcomings. For years Steve sold weapons to both sides of the track without as so much of a hint of being caught. His customers were happy with their purchases. The guns worked and solved the problems, that was all they cared about.

Steve knew every hole, space rift, and anomaly like the back of his hand and he usually traveled alone because it was cheaper in two respects. One, he did not have to pay an extra crewman to do the work he could do on his own and two, he never had to worry about a disgruntled employee selling him out to the opposition. In Steve's opinion, bringing along an extra mouth to feed was bad business. Eight months ago Steve navigated the outer regions of the Signauch Cluster which was a cluster of ten warring planets nestled deep within the northernmost hemisphere of the Gamma Sector. Tired from flying for three days straight on nothing but high quantities of caffeine and a little miracle drug called the "little yellow missiles," which if you took enough of them they "shot" you into space, Steve decided to lay over at a small little known planet named Syberius 4 just hidden  in the back of the cluster. He usually found the outermost remote planet to grab some rest and relaxation, so he could peacefully shake off the weariness of his travels without worrying about time constraints, over populated crowds, and the usual unwelcoming attitudes toward newcomers and foreign traders. Steve left his small barely runnable ship at the space dock in the city of Cacus deep within the depths of  Syberius 4 and found himself guided to a small pub known as, The Garden Lily, coined after the 21st century pubs which graced England's countryside’s on Earth. As Steve plopped his aching bones on a bar stool at the far end of the bar he ordered the house specialty entitled, Lily's Secret. What exactly the secret was, Steve was unsure and did not really care, but he assumed the secret was the drink tasted horrible until the forth or fifth swallow and by that time you were drunk and did not care what it tasted like. By the sixth or seventh sip, you became a dilapidated, run-down drunk who knew it all and should be put to rest. Steve was working on his sixth slurp and on knowing every little mystery the universe held in the palms of its hands.

If  Steve blew off a little steam it didn't make any difference. He had a 4 day lay over in Cacus while he waited for the Border Wars to cease with the signing of the peace agreement between the Syberiums and the Denauchians. Both chancellors from their perspective sides would sign the treaty tomorrow morning at 0900 hours and all would be rosy between the two warring peoples. Steve wanted to relax and think about what he would do now and who he would sell his highly regarded weapons to. In the next four days his precious cargo would be loaded and he would be on his way out of this sector entirely looking for new clients to wage arms on.

As he sipped nonchalantly on his secretive drink which was beginning to taste pretty good by now, Steve watched a dart game in the corner of the bar between a Syberium named Forghe and a Denauchian named Methus. It was an apparent friendly game and Steve watched with some detached, bemused curiosity as Forghe accused Methus of stepping over the line on his winning dart tagging the center bull dead on, and taking the pile of monetary Sulker Chips the two adversaries promptly bet. Both Forgthe, a biochemical engineer, and Methus, a strong Denauchian warrior, stood toe to toe for at least ten full minutes arguing over the point as if neither had any other forms of money left in the vast universe. Steve, like a few other passive admirers watched thoughtfully as the two aliens called each other and certain members of their families everything in the book. Steve waited until the argument seemed to be getting out of hand and interjected in a soft spoken voice while staring at his emptying glass, "He wasn't over the line. You're upset, Forgthe, because he's a Denauchian and on top of being a better dart player than you, he's beat you fair and square."

The tiny, homely bar fell to a dead silence as both aliens regarded Steve with distrust and contempt. No one moved for what seemed like years as both aliens glared at Steve in anger. Figuring he had opened up one hell of a can of worms, Steve decided to finish it and spoke quietly again, "Why don't you throw the turn over, shake hands and kiss and make up?" Forgthe and Methus eyed each other seemingly contemplating Steve's advice. Slowly turning their attention back to Steve Methus rasped, "And what do you know of darts, human?" Methus drug out the word human like it was foul and disgusting. Steve shuddered, "Here we go," he muttered to himself under his breath. Forgthe sauntered over to Steve's bar stool, grabbed the back of the chair firmly and whipped Steve around to face him in a split second. Claiming in a loud boisterous voice Forgthe announced, "The human will now demonstrate the correct way to play darts!" Again the word human was spit upon and Steve began to see his folly wishing he would just silently slip out of the chair and disappear somewhere away from this confrontation. His heart sped up and his brain worked quickly trying to figure a way out of this craziness.

The bar was still and silent and Steve knew a fight was unavoidable at this point. Steve never backed down from a fight even when he was stupid and drunk like he was now, and he certainly wasn't going to slip away just when things got hot and interesting. Forgthe's nose just about touched the tip of  Steve's and his breath smelled like rotten eggs baked all day out on the heat of Mars' dusty surface. Steve could physically see Forgthe's skin oozing a light green secretion from his pores signifying his rage and anger. The stench was unbearable and Steve had to get away from the Syberium. He was choking on the alien's scent and the more Forgthe eyed Steve the madder he seemed to get. Steve noted this and replied, "Oh, are we a little mad, Forgthe? You need a human to tell you how to play?" That was it. Steve sailed over the bar counter and by the time he hit the glass shredded floor he realized Forgthe was stronger than he gave him credit for, not to mention he was glad to be away from the foul smelling alien before he puked in his face.

Brushing himself off while calculating the best plight of defense, Steve looked about the dimly lit room for a weapon within reach. Finding none and, for the moment in his drunken stupor, forgetting about his knife he always carried just for these unexpected occasions, Steve leaped over the bar and put up his fists ready for the blow, but not knowing from which direction it would come. Just as he planted his feet firmly on the ground and took his first swing at Forgthe the blow came from behind. Methus clocked him a good one, right up side the head. As he slipped into the abysmal darkness sure to come Steve kicked himself for not knowing where Methus was. As the lights went totally out Steve heard Methus say, "Let's get this human scum out of our bar!"

Six long hours later, Steve Donovan awoke in his own cramped quarters aboard his little ship, Fresca, and rubbed his eyes slowly. His head hurt from the knockout blow and everything else ached from the hangover he was working on. He wiped his brow and  massaged his temples as he fumbled for his cigarettes. His cabin was eerily dark with the exception of the small headboard light securely fastened to the top of his bed. The insignificant light blinded him and he blinked as he searched the most obscure corners of the quaint little chamber. Everything was in its rightful place. Nothing was missing.

The pictures of his family hung on the left-hand wall right where he'd tacked them. All of his books were piled in an organized mess atop his hardwood desk he had picked up in the Delta Sector while running guns for a Moscian investor. But, something was amiss. He didn't know what yet, but something was definitely not right with this picture. Steve sat up quickly and as always hit his head on the overhead light reminding him of the forming headache from the crack to the back of the head he took from Methus. His head spun, and the evenings events swam to and fro within his muddled brain fraying his balance. Waiting for the excruciating pain to cease and his thoughts to clear enough for him to figure out what exactly happened to him, Steve touched the lump on the back of his head and let out a little yelp. Trying his hand at standing, Steve slumped back into the bed like melted butter. "Oh, my head," Steve moaned as he got his bearings. Steve leaned against the headboard waiting for the wave of nausea and dizziness to subside. No matter what he did he could not get comfortable and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew there was something he should of figured out by now.

Staring out the small port hole in his cabin, one of the only windows on the tiny ship, it came to him. He wasn't in space dock any longer. Somehow, Steve was adrift out in the vast wasteland of space or worse someone else was aboard his ship piloting it to God knows where. A fleeting thought practically brandished Steve right between the eyes. What if my shipment has been tarnished or somehow compromised? Steve hopped up a little too quickly and as he physically shook off the dizziness threatening to overwhelm him again, he headed for the automatic cabin door walking in a zig zag pattern with some certainty. As he approached the door it swished open and another horrible thought occurred to him. What if he was lost in a unforgiving region of space he had not yet chartered? Quickly dismissing this thought, a chill ran up and down his spine acknowledging his terror.

Shaking the cobwebs from his muddled mind, Steve proceeded out the cabin door carefully drawing his old fashioned hunting knife and crept down the Fresca's empty corridors he had felt comfortably alone in until this very moment. Right now, he wished like hell he had picked up the 16 year old boy passenger running away from home on Terinauch. At least he'd have some one to share this insanity with and to talk to. He'd settle for anyone at this point and if it was a 16 year old kid, then so be it.

As Steve Donovan slowly made his way down the darkened hallways to the well equipped bridge he took careful consideration of the most innate possibilities that undeniably sought him ahead. The corridors cried out in loneliness and they became hauntingly quiet. Steve shivered, checked his watch and kept a steady pace to his target. The cool, gray walls closed in around him and panic welled deep within the furthest regions of his aching mind. Steve closed his eyes willing the fear to subside and took a deep breath letting it out slowly as if he was participating in a Lamaze class. Steve kept moving none the less feeling his way along the hall and knowing his own ship's schematics by heart. The tiny hairs at the nape of his neck prickled and frigid chills ran up his spine.

Fighting to overcome his horror, Steve typed in his six digit numerical code with shaky persistence into the command box just adjacent to bridge door. Holding his breath, he hoped the door would gladly obey and rush open as it slowly slid away to reveal the tiny bridge. It was completely empty. No one piloted Fresca through any kind of space, it was flying all on it's own. The bridge controls blinked and beeped as Fresca drifted on what seemed to be autopilot.

Donovan quickly seated himself at the captains console and examined the controls carefully. Everything seemed to be in perfect working order and running smoothly, purring like a kitten. Fresca was logged in on a course, what course he wasn't exactly sure, but all the settings appeared to be correct. The ship's safety buffers were in place and all the systems functioned properly. Steve checked them and then double checked them. Sure that Fresca was working up to specs, Steve decided with some apprehension to leave the bridge for now and investigate the rest of the little ship. Upon exiting the bridge, the door swished shut behind him and he entered his six digit code again locking the door just in case he wasn't the only being roaming about the Fresca. Slowly wandering down the corridors taking in every little tick like a sponge, Steve thoroughly examined every room as he made his way to the engineering room. Fresca was as he had left it, lonely and completely empty.

As he entered main engineering, Steve cast a quick look all over the compartment. Just like all the others aboard the ship, this room boasted it's emptiness. Steve sighed in relief, finally able to breathe normally. He began to concentrate on the controls before him when he heard a noise. It was a familiar sound, but he could not quite place it. Sure he had heard it before, Steve stopped and listened hard to decipher its whereabouts. The sound increased just enough to peak his interest and he could almost make it out. He listened again, this time a little more intently. Steve gasped when realized what the noise was. It was voices. Whispering voices. Some were human, some alien, but it was all voices whispering and reaching out to him just beyond his sight from the dark depths of the corners in the small room. "Oh man, now I'm going insane. I'm hearing voices, next thing I know I'll be seeing things too," Steve mumbled to himself softly. He shook his head violently to block out the noise which seemed to grow louder by the second.

Gazing down at the engineering console again, Steve thought he caught a slight movement in the corner, but he quickly dismissed it as he peered at the brightly displayed controls. Trying to concentrate as best as he could, Steve carefully measured each reading twice to ensure everything coincided with the readings from the bridge. Again a movement just beyond the brilliant light of the control panel. Steve lifted the phaser from the cabinet under the engineering console and silently stepped out from behind the counter to investigate. With his phaser drawn and his heart pumping faster than it ever had in his short 35 years,

Steve narrowed his way into the corner where the movement originated. It came again. Steve froze with his finger on the trigger poised and ready, "Hello?" He said sounding a bit like a wounded child. His voice echoed off the gray walls as it sounded smaller than he'd originally intended. "Oh, thank God it's you!" A relieved voice said from the inky blackness. "Debbie?" Steve inquired. "Yes, it's me, in the flesh!" Debbie threw her arms around Steve's neck and kissed him before he had a chance to think about refusing her. "I'm so happy to see you. What have you been doing with yourself?" Debbie bounced from side to side like a cheerleader at tryouts and hugged Steve again.

Steve, in obvious shock, stuttered a curt hello and yanked Debbie's leach-like grip from around his neck. He could not believe his eyes. He wished for someone to share this insanity with, but Debbie Hurst was the furthest person from his mind, and she was definitely not on the, "want to be stranded on a ship alone with," picks of the century list. Steve hadn't thought of Debbie since he left her stranded in a hotel room alone on Cytel 9. Debbie was really popular there. Steve spent two fun-filled weeks with her, paid her, and went on his merry way. His head was reeling. Trying to stay on top of this, Steve grasped his head and thought hard. Why would she be here right now of all times? Was he dreaming this? Did he unconsciously want to have another fling with Debbie? The dizziness became apparent once again and Steve plopped down on the floor desperately trying to control his stomach from emptying all its sour contents on the floor in front of him.

Steve surveyed Debbie suspiciously and finally said, "What the hell are you doing here? I left you light years away from this place. How did you get here and why are you on my ship without my permission?" The hurt in Debbie's eyes was quite apparent as she countered, "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"Well,...uh,...I am. I am happy to see you. I just don't understand why your here now and how you got here." Debbie appeared to mull this over in her mind as if she was waiting for someone else to gladly give the answers to her before she finally said, "Well, I happened to be visiting Syberius 4 when I heard you'd been hurt by some aliens. I came to help you if I could. After all, what are friends for if they can't help each other from time to time."

Steve looked at Debbie in utter disbelief. He knew she was lying. What possible reason and motive did she really have for being there? And as far as her being a friend of Steve's that was completely ridiculous. They weren't friends. They did not keep in touch. They never sent sub space messages back and forth, they never called one another to say, hey how's life treating you?

Knowing Debbie's answer was a farce but at a loss to describe what was happening to him, Steve accepted this lame excuse for the moment and restored the controls on the computer panel in front of him. Debbie peeked over his shoulder as he made the final preparations. That irritated him. Debbie irritated him, but he choose to ignore it for the time being. "Are you coming?" Steve shot over his shoulder as he was leaving."Yeah, sure!" Debbie hopped along side and immediately started gibbering about nonsensical things Steve cared nothing about.

As they rounded the first corner Debbie stopped talking a mile a minute like a Ducaurian Hyenna. At first Steve took no notice of the silence which transpired between the both of them. He kept walking along unaware, lost in his own thoughts. Steve stopped dead in his tracks. "Debbie?" She was no where to be found. It was almost like she completely disappeared and was never there in the first place.

Steve rushed back to engineering looking everywhere for her. Not that he really craved her company, he just wanted to make sure he wasn't losing what little mind he had left. She was no where in sight. Debbie was gone into the night as quickly as she had appeared. Panic set in and the whispering voices manifested themselves again surrounding him until he was paralyzed with fear. Steve grabbed both sides of his head with his trembling hands and screamed, "Get out of my head!" He raced down the hallway to what he thought was the bridge and punched in his six digit code on the command panel. Nothing. He tried it again. It would not open. "Damn!" He muttered.

Taking a deep breath he cleared the panel and carefully put the code in again. The door swished open and Steve stood there dumbfounded. It was not the bridge. He was in his quarters again. Blinking he looked again as if the actual motion of doing so would change what he saw. In the end it did not.

Steve ran down the corridors until he broke out into a cold sweat. The voices became louder and his legs grew tired. He ran for what seemed like days before he collapsed against the wall in exhaustion. In a frenzied state of terrifying reality, Steve realized he no longer felt at home on his cozy little ship, Fresca. It wasn't his ship at all. It belonged to the voices. The voices in the shadows that reached out from the depths of a man's muddled mind and grasped his remaining coils of sanity ripping them from their sockets. He was lost on his own ship and had no clue where he was going. Thrashing from left to right, Steve kicked the pristine white sheets off of his sweaty, naked body and awoke screaming in prettified horror. The scream died on his lips when he saw Methus and Forgthe standing at the foot of his hospital bed with their arms folded. "Well, well, Mr. Donovan. Seems you've got a nasty knot on your head and possibly a few bad, violent dreams as well," Forgthe said plainly like a doctor speaking to an uncontrollable patient. "What's going on?" Steve asked meekly. "Mr. Donovan, we've been tracking you for months. Your a hard man to hold down," Methus offered. "We are customs officers," Forgthe chimed in, "On the Syberium border. We knew you were smuggling guns into our sector, but had no proof. Thanks to your involvement in our little dart tiff, we now have the much needed proof we desired."

Steve sat up on the side of his bed in shock with his mouth agape. Methus patted his shoulder in a friendly gesture and confided, "We implanted a special device into your nervous system. It's a nerve conductor which allows us to gain correct readings about your brain patterns. This handy little device also allows access to your thought process deriving the truth from the lies you may tell us."

Steve couldn't believe his ears. Were they telling him they knew everything about him? As if to answer his question, Forgthe began reciting Steve's rights and smacked handcuffs on his wrists.

Steve heard none of it. He drifted off into his own world thinking all along to himself. This can't be real, it can't be happening. "How do you plead?" Methus shook him, "How do you plead, Mr. Donovan?" Steve's eyes cleared and he countered, "Not guilty! D,...Do,...Do I get a trail?" Both aliens laughed uproariously, "There's already been one, Mr. Donovan!" Forgthe yelled. "Guilty!" Methus yelled back. "Sentencing will commence!" Methus and Forgthe laughed together again and Steve stared in disbelief. Steve kicked off the covers and found himself nestled neatly atop his own bed in his cabin within the confines of Fresca. He shook out the blankets vigorously and peered about the dimly lit room with uncharacteristic dismay. Swinging his feet to the side of the bed, he quickly took a peek underneath before putting his feet on the floor like a child checking under the bed for monsters. Exhaling a deep breath, Steve relaxed a little, "It was just a bad dream, all of it a bad dream." As Steve shook off the last residuals of sleep one phrase stuck in his feeble mind. "The sentence is life!" It kept repeating over and over again until the voices chimed in with it. Steve shivered as he glanced out the portal window and the familiar whispering voices got louder. He wasn't in space dock and Fresca was on auto pilot floating aimlessly through voids of uncharted space he'd never dared to capture within all his travels.

Realizing he was reliving earlier events, Steve screamed in sheer terror. Steve Donovan, a broken man with broken dreams now lives out his final days and is in seclusion within his life sentence.

Rights

Rights
Copyright:1/13/96

The political bandwagon rides on
We go out without a sound
Adhere to the censored lunacy
Forget about rights to privacy.

Freedom is a four-letter word
The lowest man on the totem pole
We lose our lives in censored bliss
Politicians layer it on and seal it with an evil kiss.

Like cattle we obediently follow
At the slightest unfavorable remark
Our lives stand corrected and censored
With all these rules to be ignored.

Where does the insanity stop?
Books, movies or music
Control exists in political minds
Censorship puts us in civil blinds.

Reverse Discrimination

Copyright: 2/19/96
Reverse Discrimination

Step right up, welcome doubtfully to
Reverse discrimination
Spill your blood, lose your job for
Reverse discrimination
Get set straight, lose composure for
Reverse discrimination
Travel unwelcomed, lose your place in
Reverse discrimination
Become a slave, lose face to
Reverse discrimination
Stand up for your rights, lose nothing to
Reverse discrimination
Fight back and believe, do not lose to
Reverse discrimination
People should be equal, lose no value to
Reverse discrimination
Color should not be a prerequisite for rights
Reverse discrimination
Unite together and defeat the
Reverse discrimination.

Reap What You Sew

Copyright: 2/13/96
Reap What You Sew

The rights of men
Become shattered
Innocent and guilty
Do we really know?

Despise and corruption
Judges and juries
A five time murderer
Reap what you sew.

Brutal slayings
Pleading unforgiven insanity
Does the man fear?
Reap what you sew.

A man found guilty
The evidence complete
Serves time for the crime
Do we really know?

No appeals
No forgiveness
Approval sealed
Serpent's kiss.

Innocent victims
Unknowingly seduced
A man sentenced
Reap what you sew.

A man's death
Could prove right
Retribution
Do we really know?

Sentenced to death
A healthy verdict
In the lonely chamber
Do we really know?

Safe house streets
One more dead
No worries
Reap what you sew.

In an instant
It's over
Hell bent
Death's sure.

Reap What You Sew

Copyright: 3/8/98
Reap What You Sew

You think you've got it made
But deep inside you know
Calloused stone heart of jade
It's time to Reap what you sew.

You ask, follow me
But you don't know where
Disabled faith for free
Welcome to the lair.

Is it all you thought it would be?
Do you really think we're that stupid?
Is all of this really for me?
Are you remorseful for all you did?

(solo)

You tell us what we should do
But you give no real direction
Haunted eyes blazing anew
Reap what you sew, malice protection.

You preach, sin not
But you are not worthy
Wiping your ass with our snot
Useless, but you can't see.

Is this world coming to an end?
Do you really expect many believers?
Is this the acrid smoke or wind?
Are you hurt, do you take your leave?

When you're down
And no one is there
Do you frown?
Do you care?
Do you really
Reap what you sew?

Predator And Prey

Predator and Prey
Copyright - 01/14/99

He swims gracefully without flaw at 3 knots through the cool ocean water
His mouth slightly ajar and his eyes black and complacent, he swishes his dorsal fin back and forth keeping a steady pace
He is hunting
He is looking.

Cool salt water flows over and through his over sized, flexing gills
The creature reflexes with complete awareness heightened beyond comparison
He is strong
He rules all oceans.

Scanning sea and horizon the great predator senses distress in the near
Monstrously huge, his shadow passes over the ocean floor, darkening hiding places of potential prey
He smells them
He knows that are there.

Thrashing
A possible prey in distress?
The creature hurriedly changes course heading for the sound of dinner waiting.

Fierce and strange the predator moves ever so swiftly unafraid of any other creature within the depths of sea
His slim airplane figure glides back and forth as he searches for the prey he's already homed in on
Prey calls a distant song
He smells the blood.

Pumping blood through his veins, his heart speeds up as he gains on his bleeding, broken prey
The ocean is his domain and he is king swimming constantly without rest in search of food
He is getting closer
He can feel his prey.

Vibrations from the terrified animal bounce off his receptors he opens his jowls widely
Impending doom, he takes his prey as his eyes roll into his broad head, the seal thinks he can break free
The seal struggles
To no avail.

Drowning in its own blood and salt water the seal's struggle ceases as the great white clamps down once more
Ragged teeth seer and cut the seal's limber flesh, sawing it in half, and White Death thrashes his head from side to side
No time left
Life leaving.

Water once crystal blue spooks violently red as the shark shakes his victim viciously from left to right
His eyes roll back again into his enormous head creating the protective membrane
The prey has fallen
The predator conquers all.

Political Asylum

Written: 1/21/91
copyright 1991 Demented Thinking Productions
Political Asylum

My dark, lonely cell, I sit and count the chalk marks on the wall
Incarcerated for no apparent reason, lost under foreign law
Head in my hands, twenty-three days since I last felt the sun's rays
Confusion clearly guiding me, my mind swamped in a haze.

The curator's footsteps, keys in hand to unlock the iron gate
Putting the blindfold on while leading me out by force of hate
I'm being moved once again, bound with shackles on my hands and feet
Victim of circumstance, will it be my precious life they delete?

Taken diplomatic hostage by what seems the be the devil himself
Drawn and Quartered, with no regard to my personal health
How long must I stay here and receive this infernal sentence?
Imprisoned, Middle-East hell, I haven't seen my wife and kids since.

My new domicile, cramped hot-house shack, no food or water
Send in the troops, for my vitality they will hopefully barter
Enslaved like a caged animal, no one will witness my tears
Cruel and unusual punishment, their violence add to my fears.

Nightfall, they have returned, terrorizing, icy chill runs down my spine
Where are they taking me? Nightmarish thoughts scurry through my mind
Daybreak, sun rises in the east, burning my flesh against the desert
Assailants look loathingly upon me and spit on my grave before I die.

Torture-Pain and agony
All that's left for me
Brutality-vehemence and death
Shoot and I'll take my last breath.

Political Asylum.

Police Action

Copyright: 2/18/96
Police Action

A man comes home from a bloody war
Does not know his right from left
People spit on him, deranged no more
He fought for his country to the core
A man's life is at irresistibly at stake
Friends died at his feet, disbelief and scorn
Be-headings and floggings his friends he mourns.

A carefully planned police action men died
Derailing the government, for they lied
Government action, are they satisfied?
Vietnam rebels everywhere dysfunction of pride
Young, hopeful men wonder why and cry
His buddy blown to bits right by his side
Peace meets no man in war, look inside.

Villages left in ruins, children cry in the streets
A fate worse than death not to repeat
Fighting, why? No one knows, dead on his feet
Tired and wasted drug induced haze to meet
Wishing for the pain to be over, take a seat
He wanted to go home, be free and keep
His life from passing him by, protect the meek.

Agent orange and chemical warfare ends
All the life that was slowly on the mend
Losing all hope and his only friends
Life's only unforgiving existence he finds
People disregarding him, brainwashed mind
Unspeakable doings things he sees in the crime
Old wounds do not heal with the absence of time.

Does this man come home and repair his life?
Or can it go on for infinity, the political cookie bites
All the hurting, pain and sorrow, double-edged knife
Keeping a good man down and in strife
Does his thoughts resemble his turning might?
Or does he save face and hide in the daylight?
Was it a police action or just voices in the night?

Pay The Piper

Written: 10/19/92
copyright 1992 Demented Thinking Productions
Pay the Piper

You wander through life in a drug induced haze looking for the ultimate high
But before you know it, your life has passed you by
You live in filth, stealing, panhandling, and conning your friends to get your next fix
But didn't anyone tell you that drugs and life doesn't mix.

(chorus)

It's time to pay the piper
Vital signs dwindling away
Pay the piper
You death could come today.

Slipping the infested needle into your pulsating vein as your nights fade into days
Disease ridden, A.I.D.S. sticks you, your postage pre-paid
Arraigning your own death sentence, make the proper arrangements, demise sure to come
Dying from the inside out, living is done.

(repeat chorus)

Snorting your whole life savings into your sore, reddened nostrils day in and day out
A big business man who runs out of clout
Unable to cope with life's little curves, putting your family on the auction block
Taking your life and belongings to be hocked.

(repeat chorus)

A violent struggle within your tortured mind, ill disposition, sucking on addiction, a crack pipe
Unable to decipher what's wrong and what's right
Drifting into your own little comatose world, trying to rid yourself of your relentless problems
Bringing yourself up from down, your future is dead grim.

(repeat chorus)

(flat line sound)

Once A Man

Copyright: 2/20/98
Once a Man

Murdered by those he trusted
Flung into the fiery furnace
Lock and key completely dusted
Kept years rotting in this place.

Now he must be set free
Choices mark his every move
Good or evil brings his killing spree
No love, nothing will soothe.

A villain or an angel
He will decide for himself
His blood lust vengeance to quell
Mental anguish, clown's no help.

Once a man
Now he must do his bidding
An iron hand
Discover who is his king.

Made a deal
With the devil himself
It's so unreal
Pitched into the depths of hell.

The rage, the fury
Unsettled, he must see
The insanity, the key
Hunger, he must be.

The pain, the flood
Feelings, he must control
The anger, the blood
Savage, he will blow.

(chorus #1)

Once a man / Now a Spawn
From the abyss / Of hell now gone
A clown to guide / A predator
Heartache, confusion / Covering sores.

(chorus #2)

Once a man /Now a Hell Spawn
Feeling the hunger / Revenge dawned
A fight to the end / Deadly game
He's the Spawn / He's not insane.

The damned don't get reprieve
The man doesn't bleed he seethes

Rank and file, no commandments
Following that path, hell sent
Thrust into death as life descends
A Spawn burned and on the mend
Look in his eyes, he can't pretend
Bent on violence he won't bend.

(chorus #2)

Now I'm Dead

Copyright: 3/8/98
Now I'm Dead

I wait
I wait for the darkness to take me
I wait
Here in the ground.

It's cold
Cold and alone, blood refreshes me
It's cold
Listening to human sounds.

It's nice here
In the dark
It's cold here
In the grave.

My bones creak
In my head
Brittle and break
Now I'm dead!

Worms will crawl
Through my flesh
Rats will gnaw
Upon my death!

Open the lid and look inside
You'll see someone died
Open your mind and be me
But you'll see my slavery un-free.

Dig the dirt out with your hands
Pierce my eyes get me out of this can
See the rot, tears sting your eyes
Don't weep for my I've said my goodbyes.

(chorus)

Now I'm dead, misled
Now I'm dead
Now I'm dead, enough said
Now I'm dead

My head aches
Through my ears
Only I forsake
All of my fears.

Maggots will slither
Into their place
Snakes come hither
Into my face.

Forget yourself and stow away
Lock yourself down with me today
As my flesh tears away in the night
See my eyes burn with the light.

Death has summoned me right here
I can be reborn devout of fear
Spread my wings and I can fly
Sprout new fangs blood doesn't lie.

(chorus)

My Dreams

Copyright: 2/19/96
My Dreams

My dreams are filled with life and death
Haunting my waking moments are my dreams
My dreams consist of the very last breath.

Dreams include the right and known wrongs
My dreams emphasize nothing in the world
Dreams living in the certain land of the gone.

Vast wastelands inherit my darkest dreams
My dreams plight the good versus evil
Dreams enforce and bring up my screams.

My dreams score your fleeting moments
Color backgrounds and incredible motive
Reconciled differences dreams a God send?

My dreams, dark, lonely and desperately uncertain
Days become nights, nights become days
Draw my breath waiting for the final curtain.

Dreams yield to the most inner thoughts
My dreams hold pain and confusion
Coming of age in the mind drought.

My dreams enter into outer realms of wisdom
Seeing the independent truth for itself
The future of life may depend on what may come.

Dreams are mirrors of your inner core
Soul enlightening eyes to become one
Fulfilled from emptiness no more.

My dreams predict death and destruction
Un-welcomed night dwellers from within
A precedent of what to be or instruction.

Are my dreams destroying me?
Will I ever be free?
How do I know when I have the key?
To unlock the dreamscape and finally see.

Motor City

Motor City
Copyright - 2/3/96

A city cold and degrading
Dirty and trashed beyond belief
People live in fear
Winter rapes through violence
Robbery, drugs and gangs
Rule the motor city
Rumors and chaos clings.

Pollution and designated bi-laws
Smog and unbelievable madness
People ingest this craziness
As cars speed down the road
Crime seems to somewhat pay
Ruling the consciousness
Criminals beg and maul.

Snow drifts from far above
Covering the city in a white blanket
Briefly snow floats from the north
Roads iced and slicked
Crews working quickly to fix
Accidents prevalent throughout
Not a city of love.

Moonspell

Copyright - 03/10/00
Moonspell

Phases no one out of shape
These entwine and begin anew
Starting and finishing life’s quakes
Moonspell brings love to full.

Tiny craters mark battles once fought
Forget me nots and string brief affair
Of the heart and night of loves sought
Moonspell relieves the game to quest.

Men and aliens may rest in there
Life giving joy in unbridled passion
Lovers and quarrelsome answers swear
That the moonspell affects us all.

Gathering trinkets old when it’s full
Believing in past lives the spell is
The one giving factor illuminate in blue
Moonspell the goddess creates happiness.

No treachery or trickery shall fail
The night’s unanswered questions
In those unbelieving and frail
The moonspell completes us all.

Dancing in the shadows as the light
Cast its heavenly glow on a face
Belaying the Godly beauty and insight
Moonspell traces its rays so openly.

When it’s the fullest powers strong
Granting moonchildren it’s independence
And lifting heads and hands in its song
Moonspell infuses love and life.

All is calm and the night is dark
As from the east a faint bird call
The light of the sun dispels the lark
Moonspell hides ‘til another night.

Midnight

Midnight

At the stroke of midnight the being develops
Into something and he is not sure
What is to become of him in the lure?
But the moon is full and he howls his hope.

The man transforms into a beast he know not
Into something ungrateful and evil
What is to become of his kills?
But the dividing continues and evil it''s brought.

Unknowing to his future he screams out in pain
But he cannot seem to remember
What was it to make him concur?
And as the fall of humanity proceeds he sees no gain.

At the stroke of midnight he is cursed from now on
To live out the rest of his days as beast
What was it that happened for this feast?
Whatever was once human is now far gone.

Midnight begins it and daybreak will it end
The man is animal and cannot choose right and wrong
What did he do to deserve this and belong?
Is he free? Will he ever be able to mend?

At the stroke of midnight humanity drifted away
For this man has left us all for a stranger reality
What mindset is he cowering to be free?
And will he come back from agony and decay?

Madness

Copyright: 2/16/96
Madness

If you play you may pay
So be careful when you do
Life can be so cruel
Dealt a hand of death
Drugs and sex can move you
Into a new plateau
Watch out for the sign of the day.

People contracting AIDS all the time
Innocence forgetting the stance
Playing with fire can kill you
Slowly your brittle bones rag
No known cure for dishonor
Can you really take the chance?
Ignorance can be so sublime.

Children who never had sex
Contract it, herding it unknowingly
It's a shame to watch them die
Innocent and shunned they must be
So protect yourself and others
Make sure your children live
Protection is the key to the text.

Madness quits for no man
No one should go out that way
Things we cannot nearly explain
Madness of society regrets
Incidents we cannot decipher
They shouldn't be death's brand.

Love

Love
Copyright - 2/1/96

When it happens
Light shines on
Flowers bloom
And birds sing.

People dance
Freedom wins
Makes love
Grab the ring.

A feeling
Unlike any other
Winds carry
Love from afar.

Light as air
As a feather
Floating through
Wings of fire.

Good feelings
Sent adrift
Slow and calm
Life's highway.

Love's answer
To loneliness
Is supernatural
Beautiful days.

Sinking fast
Into the abyss
Love ignites
Hearty fire.

Drowning in seas
High and turbulent
Head swims
A single wire.

Looking Glass

Looking Glass
Copyright - 1/25/96

Space and time means absolutely nothing
As we soar high to nonexistence
Seeing paranoid with the sight
A fantastic future to behold
Watch from elsewhere as it unfolds.

Dreams and nightmares run alike
Plague me in sleep and wake
Clairvoyance bestowed upon only me
What happens next?
Misplaced diabolical hex.

Nothing seems real in this make believe world
Death knocking at the doors
Awake, yet starving to death
Mental breakdown and relief
Staring in disbelief.

The future can be terribly cruel
Inescapable and unfortunately plain
Black and white with no gray
From far behind take a look
And that's all it took.

Looking glass today for morrow
Fleeing the pain and sorrow
Looking inside, seeing the horror
Can't take it, time to borrow
One look in the glass, reap what you sew.

Dreamscape lighting into unknown reality
I drift to and fro
When I wake in a sweat
No escape, no turning time back
Sordid game a safe to crack.

Looking glass takes no prisoners
Sleeps awakened from my fears
Cannot stop the uncontrollable tears
Etched in my mind totally rendered
One look in the looking glass, the end is near.

Like A Mother

Copyright: 2/14/96
Like A Mother

When that bundle enters this world
No one understands the pain and fear
Like a mother
No one loves that child unbelievably
Like no other.

When fate brings us to this point
No one sees the love and happiness
Like a mother
No one trusts so much in a child
It's not a bother.

When the joy of the unborn enter
All life passes by much quicker
Like no other
That child brings gladness and sadness
Like no other.

Mixed emotions fly through the unbridled air
Life's fantasies and unknown to come
Drifting slowly through without care
The child is perfect all is not done.

When that bundle grows much older
No one knows the rage he feels
Like a mother
No one understands and believes
Like a mother.

When the child does wrong or right
No one cares undoubtedly
Like a mother
No one stands behind him
Like no other.

When that child enters his manhood
No one worries incoherently
Like a mother
No one hopes and sees to fulfill dreams
Like a mother.

Mother and son unite and become family
Disregarding the past, present future
Moving forth together they must see
Together, life they must endure.

Lifeline

Copyright: 2/16/96
Lifeline

Fading to black hearing no sound
Self inflicted blast
Lying face down on the ground.

Razor burns on your wrists
Self inflicted to the last
Drifting in a pool of bloody kisses.

Dozing off on junk and pills
Remembering the past
Sleeping for your life kills.

Drinking yourself into oblivion
First stone cast
No longer the same son.

Make a noose and hand it tight
No talk back, no sass
Set it straight, make right.

Roll up the windows start the car
Flag at half mast
In this life, you won't get far.

Pour out the deadly gasoline
Perfect your craft
Deadly death and surely clean.

Plummet to the hard earth
Jump your last
There is no known rebirth.

Once you've considered these routes
Pull out forget the draft
Go on give suicide the boot.

Your own lifeline beats strong
Not able to really laugh
Once you cut the line you're gone.

So think about what you do
Leaving us behind, crashed
One mistake and you could be through.

Things will get better if you try
Stop living in the past
Lifeline goes on, time will lie.