Why is it so ingrained in our brain
That it is not at all the same
When some fellow man feels pain

Peers attempt and end hurt
Broken, throttled and burnt
For us, nothing learned

Headbutting bricks
Cactus pricks
Failure’s ticks

We spectate disaster with awe
Agape lay our jaws
Admiring chaos with rising and falls

We wish for deaths of dreams
With spite and amusement of things
Humanity cares not for wings

Music chords lacking worth
Clouds and hopes never birthed
Thanks to other’s mere mirth

New Zealand’s Apocalyptic Fiancés


New Zealand’s Apocalyptic Fiancés

We played guitar and sang songs, all night by the fire
I look at you on the steps to the temple, in perfect midnight
When there was no one else on earth, you were all I needed
In this place of sanity we made among the rubble

To the skies we shouted, when we found each other
To the past, we scorned, there was no doubt about it
There was no use in wondering why were ever hurt at all
I forgot all that had happened just as soon as I heard your call

The fire burned slowly, consuming its kindling
The sticks we had gathered, overtaken by the blaze
Ashes rising above the embers, bodies glowing from the light
I strummed and sang and you there sat and listened to my voice

Brick steps we sat on getting warmer, the fire burning on it
Cold night air being banished by our song and bright blaze we built
Your eyes were always tranquil, heaven shining in them
Those songs I always sang for you, were written at the end of my world

But your call, my love, brought me back to life
And your words were always sweet, caring and kind
They echoed in my mind as I stared into the fire
Words of love, not just imitation, reflected time after time

We didn’t mind afterwards, when the fire finally died
Constellations overhead and hands held in hands
We fell asleep at the steps to the temple, without a care in the world
For the world was finally over, and there we finally were

Under a moon and heated by each other, on top of cold stone bricks
In the mountains of our final resting place, we lived the apocalypse
No one else living in the world, it was ours for the taking
I had the time of my life in the calamity, but sometimes I wish we never died



We looked to the skies for myths of old
When countries were at war and miraculous inventions made
Flying ships peppered the sky with flags and cannons
Above our country, the Dreadnought guarded

A crew of three hundred and captain of royalty
Blazened with silver and gold, wood set with steel
The machine watched our skies, fearsome and fierce
Aloft by balloon and stocked by barrel of gun

One day a battle was brought to our home
Our precious vessel in the enemy’s sights
They flew with fury, and evaded with skill
But our Dreadnought was equipped with the purpose to kill

We fired with hell and glassed with ease
Making the enemies look caught in a breeze
Blimps exploded, and wood evaporated
The enemy ships were smited and fell into our city

The Dreadnought turned from the won fight
Cascaded death from where the threat once was
From one-thousand feet fell iron and board
Splintering hail floating down to city streets

Unconventional Life

Unconventional Life

Shattered moons, broken landmarks
References of humanity destroyed
Natural architecture, artificial nature
Existed together; perished the same

Iron trees and leafy skyscrapers
Art in aesthetic, music in all sound
Trees never dying nor living
Buildings never disturbed or erected

Tin leaves and rebar trunks
Never to be fallen by an axe
Through all seasons, leaf steadfast
Artificial trees appearing to last

Open windows with no glass
Earth concrete and vine wiring
Roses growing in bushels of grass
Natural skyscrapers; life conspiring

The tree never altered its course
No branches would sway
The wind blowing fast
Stoic and blank, rusting in rain

The skyscraper grew green in spring
Leaves crumbled in the fall
A scarf of death cascaded away
From the earth mortar and its call

Steel branches and bolted twigs
Sprawled from the iron trunk
Welded by an ametuer
Rooted in copper, glazed with zinc

Ball bearing fruit, reflecting itself
Teardrops of rust, but feeling no pain
Never growing, never changing
Twisting permanently to the sky

Forever Fall

Forever Fall

Embrace the wind, take it in like the past
Leaves have fallen, and won’t grow back
Stand strong and tall and never sway
This season of cold, it’ll only stay

Winter’s gone, fall is forever
No paradise, no where ever safe
Memories from yesterday, you’ll give chase
Hoping to god it’s not too late

From unbroken sunlight comes undashed dreams
Innocence in ultraviolet beams
Falling down onto the earth
Falling clouds to block their birth

Nothing born and never more
Dreams are scattered in fall leaves
Caught and taken by all the winds
Ripped away from all their trees

The clouds moving oh so closer
Rain threatens to drown the leaves
Wind steals what it can away
Taking the dreams someplace safe

Carbon Gas

Carbon Gas

The last of the light peeks through thundering clouds
Standing in the rays, is our hero Abbadon
Swirling around him, the smoke creeps closer
Lightning charges ions and fuels electric fog

His eyes flickered all colors known to man
Looking at the dancing dust in fading light
Abbadon stared at the sun about to disappear
At once he understood, and accepted this fate

As the rain floated towards him, and the light at last departed
His eyes reflected mist, the debris of calamity coming for him
Abaddon knew that what came next wouldn’t be easy to do
Abaddon would have to come to terms with a legendary death

Grave words spoken by twisted clouds sounded the time
Clocks struck midnight and the wind grew stronger
Abaddon hoped that life would last just a bit longer
The angel of death had wished for an end to be his own

Vaporize the oxygen and boil all the carbon
Tear through the dust and flay forth irrevocable burns
Sharp gas scorches and smolders out all life
Pulverizes the peace with a five-ton sledgehammer

Blind, our hero stumbles, eyes searing with heat
Abaddon keeps watching the void closing in
Air currents blacken with the hate of mother nature
He stands his ground, yet he has no future

The earth sings with whispering of embers
Orange rain floats in sync with the whipping of wind
Ingited auroras revolve around the point light last saw
Standing there still was Abaddon, grappling existence



Orange dress and a red apple
Navy blazer and emerald glasses
Ivory pants and a velvet throne
As he held her, she bit the apple

The sun has shone
A cathedral background
Her head thrown back
His fixated forward

She was sat on his lap
He was sat on the throne
His emerald lenses conveying
Solemn emotions and tones

The apple’s flesh perspiring
Her laughter admirable
But he was stoic
And bracing her gently

Her arm tucked around his neck
Resting on his shoulders
Her other lifting the apple
Knees dangling off of his

Strong jaw and sharp lines
Eyes hidden behind
Suspicious green lenses
Gazed out at space and time

Soft face and warm lips
Exposing laughter
Exposing a wish
Never certain; ambiguous

Velvet throne, set in wood
Sturdy and creaking, as it should
Heavy with memory and thought
Philisophe, the man was not

Gaze upon the land he does
Spectacles reflecting spectacles
She pays no mind to his mind
Only to her mind and his eyes

Her orange dress and a red apple
His navy blazer and emerald glasses
His ivory pants sat on a velvet throne
As he held her, she bit the apple

Birds In the Bay

Birds in the Bay

A crow and a jay
On the rocks by the bay
Never wanted to leave
The nest they had dreamed of

After both once bereaved
The jay would always sing
The crow always cry
Solace in a place once empty

The sound of their sound
Echoed off the waves
They lapped at the rocks
And the calls making music

The pain, they fought through it
Together they needed no one else
The sad song and beautiful lyrics
Mingled a tune understood by all

The jay and the crow called all day
Albums at a time, pitch perfect
The jay sang and sang and sang
The crow would cry softer each note

The waves would calm, the sun set
Sunset setting rays piercing the bay
The moon would rise, the air thin
The calls cease, waves grew louder

The crow and the jay would roost
A nest they built fit for two
Two little avians retract their wings
Each others feathers keeping warm

Quiet at once, the moon rising still
Soft cooing would contain
Sentiments once shared
No sound needed, no gift ungiven

The crow and the jay
Whom lived in the bay
Sang stories every day
Loving in their own way

Mask Maker

Mask Maker

There was a man who built a mask
Being careful; not too fast
Sizing the thing and trying it on
Until one day a small barb cut him

A triviality, the man paid no mind
Continuing his work as he did
But once more he tried it on
And on removal, he saw his thumb

Dozens of tiny holes marked pricks
From the wire he used in crafting
He brushed off the thought
And to clense it he did naught

Days passed by, wire manipulated
More cuts on the man’s face
More pinpricks upon his hands
Signs: the mask nearing completion

On the final day, the man looked into a mirror
What stared back at him wasn’t him
It was the scars of his work, blinking
It was a soul of deceit in rare raw

Don the mask, the man now did
Covering face, obscuring the scars
No matter what design he crafted
He will forever bear scars he made