Who stole your smile?

What manner of beast

Gingerly flicked it away

With hardly any effort

At all.

Who graced your steps?

What man of stone

Humbly picked you apart

With hardly any effort

At all.

Who fixed your stitches?

What matters.

Really now.

Frankly given up.

With hardly any effort

At all, walk past the last

Visage of misery.

Who still has hope?

When the palisades have fallen out of grace

Upon your once beautiful face.

Humanity in the mix up,

Mixed up

Sending mixed messages

and mixing up

pre-mixed pills

and mixed drinks

pre-mixed drugs

and more mixed drinks

mixed with misery

mixed with history

and mixed up with reality.

Common causality crashes the mix-up

But some remain too broke to fix-up.

The late Chief never had to say a damn thing to anyone,

It spoke through his tired eyes,

When he was struggling to hold a pained grin atop

A plastic hospital gurney, with pillows to prop him up.

I’m sure he saw the same empty smile decades ago.

A loss for more than words, in his own father’s lost eyes.

He knew I would’ve listened to the whole deranged story,

If only to save what he’d experienced, in his nightmares.

But it was too late. There was nothing left to be said.

I knew it in the way he yelled, in the way he drank,

In the way he died full of unspoken pains as deserving of treatment

As his tortured nerves where a

Once raucous, reckless, womanizing

Youthful mind evaporated,

Taking with it countless ghosts.

I know where he got that smile, because I see it everyday

In the haunted ones left behind by the same kind

Of reflections.

You were just a mirage, while I was

The tight cordage holding together a survivor’s raft,

Floating fathoms away from barren islands;

Where hope was stranded, and lost.

After a lifetime sacrificed to the Deep.

I became a permanent fixture on the water’s edge.

With only the sun to mask me. 

I stood as still as a dead tree, half-buried in the sand,

Decorated by beach garbage and made to look happy, while still

Feeling as dry and boring as passing the time.

I was disheveled, barely strung together, and falling apart.

Until I failed to stay afloat.

We drowned in the darkness, and were separated

Forever.

Now I may never weep for such beauty

Again. Because I drowned once,

In salt-water; I was up to my wrists before

I waved one last farewell to you,

And took a plunge down the

Well.

One day you’ll catch your shadow.

Towering over your cowering

Doughy white-flag of a body.

The contrast will slowly shift and you’ll be lost

To over-saturation. Hiding in the darkness.

With your shades wrapped tightly around you.

If only I could take inspiration off the table,

Then there’d only be infinity and I.

I’d be playing a high stakes game,

working through wit and space to place to next place.

No more money pits–other than what I meant to waste—

The potential only sky bound. A record off the charts

Until they’re graphed out and mathed out,

For brain dead farts

To calculate and distribute it in incremental incidences involving

The intake, and re-uptake in-tune with the brain waves

which spark like

Tinfoil in microwaves. 

As they flip the pages.

Never Forget the Old Gold.

We walked in complete silence, except for the gentle brush of leaves and weeds. We walked towards a thick, vast grove of trees. There was a dome of branches above our heads where they  entangled to block out the sun above us. Under that snaking roof, we were in near complete darkness.

I followed the soft sound of my guide. Until we came to the end of the great grove. 

“The path splits; three different directions.” He said followed by a short laugh.“You choose.”

“Good for me.” I couldn’t see these supposed paths, so how could I even begin to guess. No light came from the end of them that I could see.

That’s why I was standing in perpetual night for longer than I’ll ever remember, because I couldn’t keep track of time any better than my mind.

The further I’d walked in the darkness, the more strange visions I saw. Colors began to drift in and out of nowhere, I saw the bright flashes of leptons shooting through my retinas, I saw a flickering pulse of light overcome my vision. But when I blinked and opened my eyes again, it was back to pure blackness.

“How you feelin?”

“I’m sure you already know, so why should I bother telling a miserable wretch like you who lives in darkness.”

“Good, ready?”

“I’m ready to choose, and I choose none of these imaginary directions, you take me along the right pathway now, or I’ll be sure to cripple you, wretch.” I spat with disgust into the dark,

“You’re ready.” A single triumphant ha! “If you had picked poorly, I’d walk you along in circles.” More short laughter. “Eat you when you pass.”

I didn’t respond. I don’t want to risk angering him enough to take me on a death march.

We walked for another couple days, until the white could be seen at the end of a wooden tunnel. Rays of false sunlight dripped down through the thinning tree tops.

Once we reached the end, I was blind from the brightness of the blank tunnel that I was imprisoned in, to endure my many punishments.

“Do you wish to live?” He asked as soon as my vision cleared.

“Yes.”

“It’s easier to die. They give new bodies, second chances. This is my fifth.” He stood rigid with pride, his bramble of horns shining in the sun. “I used to be an interloper like you. Our gods took pity on me, Fixed me, gave me lives with purposes.”

“Can I leave?”

“You may, good luck.”

I left without another word, I was angry that he’d think that any of his influences could phase me. My purpose was clear to me, and no number of new lives will bring me any closer than I am now.

The Second Sight

The trees looked less impressive from afar, just a green fringe on a sterile plane. But as I approached they began to tower ever higher above me. As if they were growing with every step I made. I soon found myself under their shade before I even walked amongst the giants.

Their canopy was so far above my head that even with unnaturally good vision, I got dizzy staring up at that lofty glowing green realm of entangling branches. Remembering the horrible people I’d seen, I didn’t want to find out what lived up in the tree tops. and I quickened my pace.

I was walking at a brisk pace, never feeling tired, but still my mind was drifting. I thought of the of that person who brought me here. Was she even real at this point? Or another illusion.

Just then hooves pounced from behind the bark of a behemoth tree, with one sudden leap there was a tall man beast before me. He had hair all over his body. His snow white hair was moving so much that it made him appear enraged for a moment. As his hair began to rest he stood up straighter, so that he was a whole head taller than me. I didn’t see any eyes on him. A bramble of horns drew from his head, and I couldn’t tell if his eyes were hidden behind his mask of horns growing up and outward above his head. He wore those 5 horns growing from his head and face like a light crown. His body appeared so strong that his age was indecipherable. I might as be looking at an alien. Then he spoke in soft whispers.

“What does it want with my forest?”

“I-I’m just passing through.”

“No pass through. Leave now” It’s tone was growing agitated. “Why here? Leave metal can man.”

“I can’t leave, there’s no where to go back there.”

“So?”

I was hesitant to want to fight this confident beast, but he began to give me little options. Maybe I can reason with it.

“I’m passing through to see a long lost group of friends. I need nothing that your forrest offers.”

“You’ve robbed the silence.”

“How can I make amends?”

“Blood. Yours.” It snapped with a hiss.

“Look, I’m not sure you can see me, but I’m well armed.”

“I know.”

“Rather confident for a dead man.” I began to draw my blade.

“I’ve killed tin can man before, how many more will they send for me to eat?”

Startled I realized that he was no minor distraction left for me to face, but another trap. I let go of my blade and steeled myself.

“Fuck you. Take me where I want to go, and I won’t fight you. But if you fight me I’ll detonate my suit and kill us both. One big boom, and that’s it idiot. No more meals for you forever.”

It screamed a horrible sound that sounded like the dying wale of a menagerie of animals. A zoo in flames. But with a mix of awe and delight, as it began to dance on it’s two hooves. Jumping about with joy.

“Good. I didn’t want to kill you. It’s more fun when you make it in one piece.”

“It sure will be.” We both shared a strange laugh, but we “eyed” each other with suspicion.

If I am in fact expected to have sympathy for somebody who’s shown me so much؟

Then yes, you can say I have sympathy for the Devil!

Chapter 1 The First Sight

I was trapped so long in that Ultimate Prison–where body, soul and mind were childish playthings, scattered about a vast empty plain–I forgot I was even alive in my armor. Even in my own cell I was trapped, but I remained within the greatest hell ever born unto mankind! With what strength remained I could take on anything, even the gods that rule beyond space and time. At some point I’d had a chance to run, to give up my journey, but instead I walked on until I was numb.

Why did I keep walking? I’m sure you’ll begin to wonder that, I know I still do. 

Well, it was difficult to wake up from my daze without something to see. Even if something did pass me by in that period, I wouldn’t have noticed it because my mind was forfeited to machination. The outer will came first, and inner self was gone.

Everything was unbelievable, and I resisted being a part of it. Until I thought I beheld my own madness manifest before me. I couldn’t tell if it came from within, because I always knew deep down that I’d face it. So at some point around then I can still remember, because of how important it all seemed, but sometimes I’m not even sure if that was real.

It may not make for the best bed-time story for a princely childe of the new world, but you’ll understand one day.

…

Through the infinite Blur I had begun to see something up ahead.

Bodies, more than I could fathom. They were dancing, strangely, with red and silver flashes that could be seen better than their bodies.

As I got closer I could see that they were fighting. Every last one chained by their feet, together in an orgy of violence. Blood dripped free from naked bodies, as men were cut down by shrieking women, young men were beheaded by their quick-witted elders, young woman scalped each other with heroic pride, and everyone was taking trophies. As their white, red splattered teeth shone through painless smiles. They were frantic and happy, and showed no hesitation.

I nearly vomited more times than I care to admit, but when I could bring myself to keep watching I saw their dance continue. The shackles came unbound, their blades dripped clean as if the blood left from them, they didn’t need to clean them before they dove into another fight. Their shackles linked and rebound. They would’ve fought to the last before me, but I had to keep walking.

I left that all behind and walked on to a fake forrest with a false sky through which a fake sun shone. Even if it was real, it was just a new star, not whatever people once called the Sun. But that’s a story for another time.

He rotted away into

A frail pile of tattered bones

Jutting out of a box frame

Which now creaked and cracked

Like a casket,

But he once carried on

By the slightest winds

From a breath or a single chant.

A fortunate child to be saved by the grace of machinery,

Doctors and medicine.

He was once dead before he was alive,

And only born to suffer more of the same,

As the men before Him.

To be tempered by the fire of the old man’s

Ways which burnt his body to ashes

Which rose above, and were mixed with winds

To be mixed back into the muck.

He lingers on to this day.

While the old man,

He

could only be revived!

To live, for a moment.

Then fail, once more.

Red shit on the floor.

2

I’d taken to a personal hermitage, not uncommon to priests of our Divine Order, but unlike most of my caste, I had traveled particularly far away. I used to dream of running away, but the reality always set in. They’d find me, and kill me. Friend or enemy made no difference anymore. Everyone was a threat. Even my own friends would kill for only a seeming betrayal of our Order. The Heretics had grown in number and power so fast that everyone was now driven mad.

Due to the growing madness my journey back will take me through many dangerous lands. I didn’t run because of greed. The death of my father meant I would not only inherit his properties, but also his titles. A grand honor for some.

Thanks to his noble reign it was now troublesome work, and my meditations had not opened any doors to truth; how could I ever be able to see the great cosmic Ones, while I’m out seeking the truly glorious death of a knight on the battlefield? Who would want to wear those unicorn bull shit helmets until a noble’s death?

There was plenty of time to mull over such tragedies during the long trek back to the family estate, on its daring cliff-face.

I trunked my important possessions, suited my iron chain hauberk (sinking in its weight), holstered my iron short sword, threw my pauper robes and tattered cloak over my head. I wasn’t going to take any chances with such a long journey in traitorous times as these. Any fight would be impossible to escape, my mighty steed was a tired old mule, but I trusted that my meager appearance would deter any bandits motivated by greed. If I ran into the greater threats my death would be guaranteed. I was raised to always remember that even wealthy men wanted me dead, and nothing was beyond their evil designs.

My greatest threats lay in the heretic bands (ex-members of heraldic orders) and nomadic warriors whom roamed the land, acting on their twisted individualized but still sadly factionalized sense of order. Heresy was on the rise as new generations failed to grasp the full teachings to any personal significance. They must’ve felt like they had failed the universal harmony. Around my own age, of twenty six years, at which some simply dropped out. Now where there was once only a scant few rogues, now entire brotherhoods were being subdued by men claiming to posses new prophetic visions.

It puzzled me, for I couldn’t make out where this madness was rooted; were they simply acting on human fallacy, or was this the result of a weakness of our very faith? I could faintly see why they’d be so easily blinded. But then again. 

On days like these, all they had to do was stand, and be lost in the fields of moving cloud. The mist was the result of cities being put to the flame, and unseasonably warm weather in the once peaceful valleys.

Once in a while a Serpent slithers

Into the mouth of a sleeping Woman

Who doesn’t realize she is a lost

Goddess. She becomes more

Than she could ever imagine.

In her womb grows the New King

Of All that quivers. His eruption

Onto the Earth sends shivers up

Her spine, but he sure looks fine.

And a Fine king he’ll be!

In every grace he’s the best of the

Lot, like a king of the mound

Back from the dead. He never stops.

He becomes a fish in the water,

A bird in the air, and a beast on two legs.

His arms and hands extend and embrace

With the strength of a Serpent. But none

Dare refuse his Majesty. He grows

Into a mountain, even in old age

His stance only strengthens and his eyes

Sharpen into spearpoints of misery.

None know better of his rise to fame

Than the Worm who became a God

Amongst normal men, who didn’t mind

When their new God smote all foes into Dust.

The Colonel treated his last Childe the Best.

After the Condom broke the camel’s back.

Years after his own Youthful resolve had been broken;

years after he admitted his cruel Pride–he could never break my Father,

But even when he was breaking down he hid his Shame.

When I saw him that last time, with his hair unkempt and

Wild as a Natives! But his skin was so Pale, his face so Pained.

I couldn’t cry, I could never cry, I was born free of the pain

With only a trace to remind me of my polluted roots

Which stung worse than acid rain out my eyes

When I saw my dad Breakdown and cry!

While the last Prince barely whimpered.