Song of the Great Whale

That creature of misfortune.

how fortunate for it, its will

may surpass the memories

of the once prominent love

of gazing onto the name of

destruction. foreboding, that

melodic stir of the deep. beneath

my feet a tremendous force, igniting

stone to sunder. wave after wave, we

reply with our insolent futilely prepared

query, a cry for help guided by a disillusion

that compassion of mercy exists within such

mountainous terror. Look onto they eye, and

reflect the mighty eclipse of you. Your moment

is temporary, and you light is dimming as mine

will forge on for just a few more moments. who

can experience immense suffering without hatred.

Yet you retain love like the pure libation, the sustainer of life. 

Like dust in the wind we blow,

clinging to misfortune although misery is the savior of all.

Floating past windows of opportunity with a short smile of the eyes,

as this has been and we have sanctimoniously  fashion or bodies as merely

voiceless vessels for light to permeate.

a dream of who will stand and who will fall,

and who will be carried on the back of  the beast.

Oh ye who has spouted golden lies and omitted betrayals beyond the stars recognition.

Look on to me, for i march the beat of a different drum.

I answer not to the tole of your victims, infants.

A brand of justice of which the tenacity of the blade wield by it

induce tears of rube hue, and frees one to envision the whole spectrum of darkness. 

low and behold the demise of terrine on this day.

Eternidad

Darkness
beautiful within and without
light cannot exists or permeate.
par rousing on the very verge of
possibility what a created mind can
grasp for its soul. losing is nothing
not even but just to imagine without
knowledge sprang forth from an eternity
the gift of a blue marble after falling from the skies.
withheld now the sight of his majesty's most magnificent
collection the cannot be so judge but merely unanimously agreed upon.

Affection
emotional crush
toxique grown to my head
you wouldn't believe the things
I've seen how long I've been before

the butter on your bread. slowly now
crawling moment is barley visible, and for
want but need we march past, later than later,
quite soon; our black flags. Justice is on the rise,
discourse is now the drawn, and to the slaughter
home shall be theirs, truly. bruised and battered they
go back to the ones they know they hold the key for
what's locked in the lies, and no ones told the code before.