Most Days (written in two minutes for an assignment)

Most days
I squeak by the mirror
Hoping the wisps fall in place
Like the gods of old.

The Fonz, Batman, and Roosevelts
Break in the wind
Yet our egos remain checked
On the empty, open range

I've taken the splendor of youth
And hung him next to the jerseys of old.
Someday my son will remove him, but
Not while the door is held in check.

I hold redemption in the palm.

I beg Sisyphus, Socrates, and
The Wall of May 3rd to Wait
For me,
But the ghosts of Mars pull me into
Isolation.

Atlas

Do not go the extra mile.

When clouds are seeded and wind blows the crowd down

Do not go the extra mile.

When the eyes of perilous youth stare into the abyss, tell them

Do not got the extra mile.

When the gods of olde thinking stare down your ideas

Do not go the extra mile.

Because the crowd will not thank you.

Because the youth will not understand.

Because the gods will crush you.

And your hard work

Your blood, sweat, and tears will be your coffin.

Whisper

The true purpose of silence

Is not to refute claims

But offer its own answer.

In silence we find meaning and message.

You want the song of my heart to beam out,

But it is no longer for anyone.

The very lyrics leaked out from cracks and breaks

When the hammer of Sekhmet ruled your minds

And now puddles in the mire of the ditch.

Clementia took her leave when your dipped thoughts

Asked for reasons in motives instead of believing in

Aletheia and moving with the stream.

A perfect storm of words, deeds, and loss

Pushing the voice and mind into blinding silence.

So your answer is clear.

Yours is to guide.

Mine is to fade.

Like the petal of a flower tripping on the last breath of the dying.

Pained

Where bloomed love

Hate has now burned the land.

Where felt sunshine

Reigns a cold night.

Where linked a chain

Lays broken pieces.

And in your heart of hearts,

You now want me to feel the pain and

Sadness of others.

Yet, you don't realize that pain, saddness...suffering

Make us numb.

So what does it mean that I can't feel anything anymore?

What does it mean that I can't care anymore?

Do your worst.

Bubble past mistakes to clear surfaces if you feel you must

Because the soul is removed.

It's gone walkabout without the shell,

And pretty words and hollow deeds won't bring the song back.

Just a mindless buzzing pushing harder toward an ending.

Control

I live in solitude without ever being alone.

The demon lovers Regret and Doubt have taken residence

Upon my back.

They snicker as their feet attach to my heart

And push visions into my brain with their hands.

My mouth no longer under my control as they

Remove my tongue and replace it with their own.

Soon their plan comes to fruition and their child Apathy is

Born from my brain like Athena from Zeus.

And the husk dies while the Red-Headed Bastard smiles

And nods approval.

Screaming in a room with no windows or doors, I stay.

Trapped here until the last flickering lightbulb bursts.

Too good an ending for someone so malicious, yet

Ironic.