Funeral For The Undead

A room full of coffins
Ready to welcome the undead.
They come to receive life,
When they should long for death.

The undead: won’t die, won’t live.
They eat poisonous food
And take the antidote soon after.
Turning their clothes inside out:
They die on one day
Reviving themselves on the next.

A room full of coffins
Ready to welcome the undead.
They run from their graves,
Never letting go of the tombstones.

The undead: sucking every drop of blood
But keeping themselves dry to the bone.
Shutting their eyes to the life they’re drinking,
Without even knowing who they’re killing…
Who is dying for them…
Just setting their goal on living another day.

The Never Ending Fight

The bell rings twice,
The fight begins.

With my guard down,
I take punch after punch
Round after round,
Without even seeing the adversary's face,
His fists coming straight at me.
Bones are crushed, muscles sore, but my face isn’t a bit bruised,
Wearing a winning smile,
Tolerated... pleasant to everybody
That chooses not to watch the fight.

Started by giving and people receiving,
End up being robbed of everything I have.
None of it would matter if it wasn’t for this failing heart,
Screaming constantly for mercy,
Begging me to lift my arms
And shield myself from another attack.

And I just stand here,
In the middle of the ring,
Questioning myself if this is real,
If this isn’t actually a dream, a bad dream.
So confused that I’m unable to even cowardly run for cover,
As I would normally do.

So the fight continues,
And I take punch after punch,
Round after round,
Saving just enough strength
To keep my winning smile showing,
My broken bones hidden
And everybody happy.
Waiting for that final ring of the bell
That is taking forever to sound.

The Art Of Bottling And Breaking Down

Another dream broken,
Another word unspoken,
I bottle it up,
I cramp it up.

The cork still holds it in,
So I don’t know I don’t really care
When it will explode, when it will flare.
A million pieces flying around
In its path cutting a frown.

Another tear fails to fall,
But not to be bottled,
And a heart to be hurt,
But not yours… not mine.

Deeper bottles, smaller hearts.
Longer nights, lower skies.
This is our song, these are our sighs,
Holding my bottle, glimpsing down,
Afraid to stumble, afraid to drown.

A smile for you, a knife for me,
A pain for the bottle,
Now filled with void,
Now filled with hope.

Listen to me hush,
Listen to me crush.
Me and my bottle tired,
Me and my bottle shattered.

Garden Of Life... And Death

It started out as beautiful,
Freshly picked from the garden,
A delicate, unique rose,
Dew dripping from its petals
Like tears of what’s to come.

One by one, I took the thorns,
One by one, I cut them off,
So careful not to ruin it,
So careful not to get hurt.

And I sit on this chair
Quietly watching as it withers,
Life running away,
Followed by colour
As bright red dims to black.

It started out as beautiful,
With its last effort to survive,
A shrinking, dying rose,
Sucks its final breath
From the bottom of the vase.

One by one, I pick them up,
One by one, I cry upon,
So carefully I’ll bury them,
So carefully I’ll watch them grow.

And I hold in my hand
What preceded its death,
New life to be reborn,
A miracle to be witnessed
By faith to be brought up.

Death sprouted life.
Hate, love conquered.

Hanging Paintings

Walking down this corridor
Where old paintings hang
From old, peeling walls.

Dusty eyes follow me as I go
And when I look back at them,
Famine strikes, disaster,
Damage left by old wars,
New ones taking place.

Flooded eyes follow me as I go
And when I look back at them,
Claustrophobia takes over, fear,
Walls closing in on me,
Reaching arms wanting touch.

Hopeful eyes follow me as I go
And when I look back at them,
A bomb falls, fire burns,
Walls unable to stand, kneel,
Sun shines through all.

King To Nothingness

And suddenly I’m a leper,
My rotten, putrid body falling apart.

I just wanted to touch you
So I could get rid of this disease,
So I could heal this sickness…
How selfish of me…

But you made it impossible,
You made yourself untouchable,
Impervious to all my pain,
Unreachable, way up in that castle.

Old battle scars keep you
From leaving your throne,
A self acclaimed king,
In that old castle down on a valley.

Overlooking my every move
Without ever really watching.
Over thinking wrongly spoken words,
Without ever really knowing.

And suddenly I’m a king,
My heavy, unwanted crown sits on my head.

In my own castle I stand,
Observing your every move,
While recent wounds
Heal in to painful scars.

I destroyed the walls
I thought kept me from you.
Realizing now that in fact
They hid you from me.

Now I see you, now I see me,
And I get sick from what I see,
Reflected in this mirror:
A selfish King to nothingness.

Time To Fight

Preparing myself for war,
Never knowing when the trumpet to charge will sound.

Looking over my shoulders I see my brothers surrendering themselves,
And then I know I won’t fight alone.

I think to myself: “I’m not ready for this!”
As I see the enemy in the horizon running towards me.

I close my eyes searching for your words that will be my weapon,
While flaming arrows brush against my skin.

I only wish I die in time to fight this battle!
And falling on my knees I am risen and courage strengthened.

I hear the roar of this mighty army as we pray for the rain to fall on us
And wash clean the chains still holding us back.

I open my eyes to find the sword of the enemy ready to strike
And suddenly all fear disappears as I remember that we already won!

The Lost Sea

Watching on this side of the fence,
Squeezing a gaze through the pieces of wood,
Finding myself in awe
Of what reaches my eyes.

A silver sheet spread across the horizon,
Being ripped to shreds,
As they fight to escape from within,
Breaking the shine reflected in this mirror.

A fire is lit in me, a craving increases
And a drought is revealed.
I push myself even harder against
What keeps me from entering the water.

While one and another fall apart,
Lining up, pushing each other,
Eager to end their journey on the sand,
To find rest at last upon the shore.

The clouds witnessing with me from above,
As another wave breaks down,
Long for the storm to find an end,
And allow them to finally reveal the sun.

A few inches keep me from peeking over.
So I pray for patience to allow me to grow
And jump beyond this wall
That stands between me and the lost sea.