Writings:
A Small Pearl
"The Game"
Poems/Songs
Year One
Year Two
Year Three
Year Four

Other Stuff:
DND Merchandise
Silent Muse
Music Discussion Forum
Friends and Inspirations
Words Never Die
Quick Pretention


2003-01-13 - 8:33 a.m.

Sound Decision

"So your solution is to become paranoid?"
"We're going to deny what feels right
for what we know is right."
"Are we just lying to ourselves?"
"You just can't escape, can you?
This is stupid."
"No."
"Not paranoid."
"Not right."
"Not lying."
"Not escape."
"Not stupid."

". . .the only choice."

Time is lost; convictions stand
in dark forests of voices
Mistakes fly in thick exhaust from
the chainsaw of our choices
What's undecided is weakened
What's agreed on is a curse
And what we want shall beat and taunt
What's practical is worse

Recollection blurs against
the stink of all that's vomitous
While my stomach, sick, rejects
this blasphemy we once called us
Terror in the past lurks still
immune to wills that wish it gone
as my insistance once again
loses track of whose side you're on

I step away from the drawn shield
with foot-filled mouth to realize
our blood vessels grow, intertwined
leaving no room for compromise
Staging war against all those
who could bring the white castle down
often leads to unsewn seeds
as ruler of a barren ground
Before words can leave my lips
I'm tied up in their consequence
So we pull out our umbrellas
preventing any drop of sense
One won't hear and one won't see
and one is tortured for each word
Evil's spread is hereby stopped
and yet its reign is still assured

Screeching crashing everlasting
at devotion's blinding halt
Screams of anguish and frustration
bleeding into the asphalt
Merciless interrogation
with the most benign intent
blends in fearful orchestration
with a regretful event
Passionate cries of objection
useless against hopeful shouts
Bored and sterile grunts of nature
mate with unempowered pouts
Naked throes of stayed ambition
echoing with angered sobs
tied with memory to nausea
that erupts as the heart throbs

Time won't stand; conviction's lost
in emptiness of voices
Hindsight is all that remains
in wake of all our choices
What's undecided is weakened
What's agreed on is a curse
And what we want shall beat and taunt
What's practical is worse

What's practical is worse

[before] [after]