The Voice

Do you know what the definition of insanity is Joseph?” the voice said, in an almost soothing tone, “It’s trying the same thing over and over, expecting different results.”

It is in fact one of the most remarkable traits of the human race. We just don’t know when to give up.” The voice said, moving to the far left corner of the room; away from the near limp body secured to a wooden chair, under a single flickering bulb. And as the dark figure from which it exuded stood there, silent for a moment, Joe felt like the room was empty. And for one brief moment he was alone. But sadly only for a moment. “Surely by now you see that you can end this pain Joseph. Just tell me what I want to hear.”

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Headlights – Day VI – NaPoWriMo 2014

Oncoming beams
Brilliant and bright
Crash upon the eye
In a blinding flash

In that terrifying moment
Of overpowering depravation
There is no death nor life
There is nothing

My breath quickens and stops
As if my body itself recoils from the moment
Shielding my vision
Yet transfixed upon its brilliance

And then after a fleeting glimpse it is gone
Back into the night from which it pounced
Past me into another world
And there is darkness

NaPoWriMo – Day XXVIII – Black

The manifestation of death and mourning
Of the total absence of light
It is a color, yet it is not
It is the image of the night

It serves as the opposite
Of light and white and good
Yet it is also the image
Of all that is not understood

It signifies the unknown
The undiscovered, the unseen
It hides untold secrets
It epitomizes the serene

It is all that we see
When we close our eyes
Yet when we see it with them open
We are afraid of its guise

We fear what is not there
For what it may be
Yet we stand mesmerized
When our body shouts to flee

For in its great pools
There is untold potential
For in the absence of all other stimuli
You access thoughts existential

Some favor it
Some don’t
Some explore it
Some won’t

Some hide from its grasp
Surrounded by illumination
Not knowing not that the dark
Fears not such affectations

It is always around us
And always there it will remain
Awaiting your arrival
When you shut your eyes again

Corrupted

It is a plague upon each heart and mind
A cancer upon each soul it finds
From noble home and hearth they came
Soon to rise by raising blame

It tore them up and built them anew
All the while their hearts it drew
Into seductive darkness so mystifying
Until they stood no longer knowing that they were dying

They came once upon a time
Full of vigor, in their prime
But each step in the sand proved too harsh
‘Til strength no longer was left to march

Their kingdom come did fall from high places
As the wolfish smile did don their faces
They crossed the desert so long and weary
But the price they paid was o so dreary

Their words of wine did turn to vinegar
Conferring upon themselves, the title of harbinger
Of truth! Of justice! Of freedom sought
For all the ideals for which they once fought

But they are mere words now that fall so hollow
Making each next lie a little easier to swallow
They are justified they say, they do what it takes
That deep below real diamonds hide, below exteriors faked

It’s how the world works, get used to it sonny!
The truth is it does take some lies and money
You can sit aside and judge, if you think you should
But the truth is it takes evil to bring out good

It may be true that I simplify
It may be true that I have an idealistic eye
I may be naive, I may be a child
Refusing to see just how real the world is, how wild

I need to know that the world can be better
That integrity is worth more than the postage on a letter
I once thought I had mentors of highest daunting
Whom I looked upon for guidance when I found the world wanting

But I have seen now how wild the world is, how real
I have seen that sometimes it takes more than just zeal
I have seen that sometimes you must trip your opponents in the mud to win the race
I have seen angels, fall from grace

3 A.M

It is 3 A.M. An unearthly hour by any standard. At this late hour, when the vessel has long since become hollow and empty, the essence leaks forward.

I am Etrigan. I speak with an honesty that etiquette does not allow and society does not accept. When the body is weak from exhaustion, and the wind beaten down by insomnia, I am my strongest. Here, when my mortal host has long lost all will to fight his most primal thoughts, I etch through the sub-concious’ door, as it stands ajar.

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