Tag: death

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Some Sun, Someone

The sun went down, and the reflection died with the new moon
I don’t know the answers, but they’re going to be inflicted on us soon

Breath like fire and blood is ice. Skin has its own mind.
Crawling out of the throat is the truth, letting sanity unwind.

If we had it to do over again, I would turn reality to ashes.
Instead, we stare into the horrors as the second hand passes

What flesh is this that parts so easily?
Embrace the blade and open to the breeze
The river runs warm
The source begins to freeze

The moon rose again and blankets the earth in reflected grace,
She turned her face away, letting pinpoints watch in her place.

Cataclysmic mother once torn to birth the barren daughter.
cries out in agony for the scars that evolution has brought her.

Penetrated and burned for the blood of those who died before
She hopes their suffering will end, and she can cry no more.

What flesh is this that parts so easily?
Embrace the blade and open to the breeze
The river runs warm
The source begins to freeze

We crave to claim and walk again on another mother in the sky
Who’s only child mishapen can barely stand to fly

Captured over to witness metal insects crawl her skin
The cycle of her sister will one day start again

But these ashes will drift forever on the cosmic ice
Considered the path but did not consider twice

What flesh is this that parts so easily?
Embrace the blade and open to the breeze
The river runs warm
The source begins to freeze

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Onyx in the sky

Onyx taking what was given
a substrate smothered, suffocated
taking and forming
building a shining soul

Newly formed and lustrous
becoming a jewel from layers thrown
a broken threshold a flash
The lights in an instant are stole

both sides to the light
to be formed in the dark
to face layers and come out glowing

Destroyed in a moment
of ongoing torment
The running waters want to go not knowing

Another star blooms in tension
when the tether is cut
rising out of the horror we’re facing

the night folds around
and holds out the beauty
so we can see one last love embracing

Photo by gryffyn m on Unsplash

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Stolen Silence

Where do the words go that we never speak?
Where are the paths to the destination
the places we never seek

Cut off at the last moment
a plan in pieces when the picture was near complete
rain on watercolors when the day was bright
and words unspoken brought unrelenting night

One more day
a sunrise away
everything unraveled in confusion
so many words I wanted to say

If there was just one thing you knew
kept inside for the moment to be right
could have been that last handhold
for you to climb into the light

Cold now the hearth and gone the soul
never knowing but maybe wishing
still fallen before truth was told

structure broken
support was decayed too long

sunken into the sea

I was not a siren but should have sang my song

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No destination

People often say what they expect, or do not expect when “Death comes for them”.

I like to view this in an entirely different way. We are heading towards death. It is the invisible barrier that we will one day encounter on our trip through spacetime. We are like the skydivers that have switched to the flying squirrel suits. We are plummeting at near-terminal velocity with the illusion of control.

We can modify our pathway along the course of gravity, but ultimately that great attraction still wins. There are no parachutes on this ride. You do not get to safely land and try it all again. (Unless reincarnation is true, I suppose…) You meet the filter at terminal velocity and the electricity that runs the sub 60-watt bulb in your skull flickers out. The signals to and from your amygdala and vagus nerve stop and your coprocessors wind down.

Then the mass of symbionts that have been travelling with you start the process of breaking down your meat suit for further processing.

But you – your energy has ether moved on to a dimension we are unable to perceive within this flesh, or reaches a resting ground state.

Death does not come for you. It quietly waits for you to arrive.

Will you be on fire when you hit, or just another cold breeze coming through the door?

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Etching

The acid flow of ideas eating through the neural pathways
dendritic lightening tightening the bonds but will it esterase the base of the glitch
the itch

etching its way through the fractal road practical stowed in the crevices
psychic ceviche but there is no lime
ticking in the aftermath when there is no time

taste the acid etching through the crevasse under the corpus callosum, widening the divide between what we calculated and what was chosen

Sour thoughts and smooth brains talking about soft hands and black stains on lung scans but not enough miles on my airplane scans to smoke a camel in quicksands…

Where were we?

susurrations of scales over sands expands the bands of spectrums still unseen in the violence of the liquid scream
the only comfort in the taiga is the lack of scales and thermal vision, making the frisson of fear of the enlightening one

the glowing son

the burning sun

am I the only one?

But this fertile garden now frozen in fear, the fertilizer steaming in the fresh fallen ice
looking for the navigation device
or just the vice
that drove the motor
the engines
over the edge

the irony of freezing to death staring into the eldritch fusion reactor we call god.