by Roekaerts
Phantom Moon
When vicious sadness lances
Spears that disembowel,
My soul on which pain dances
Emits a silent howl.
But the moon to which I cry now
Has no substance, warmth or healing,
A mere reflection of my feeling
Caught in a water bowl
It’s beauty empty and unmoving
It’s all just for show
Casts back my own deep longing
With a light itself belonging
To a sun you’ll never know.
Lost at Sea
Oh how I wish I wasn’t me
But a glorious master of the sea,
Whose sails have caught a steady wind
but I've dropped anchor for I have sinned.
Judgment soon will be cast
Much longer here I may not last,
As sky and sea start to encroach
Clouds build and gather dark in dark reproach.
I turn my gaze at human kind
So much to love in them I find.
Deftly around the rocks they steer
Helping the ones that stray too near.
As do the souls that pass me by,
they fear my death and so they try,
They do not know, they cannot see
The anchor’s lodged in the soul of me.
Come Armageddon
Come Armageddon, only she will survive,
Crawl through destruction, though limbless, alive.
Civilization now crumbling to dust,
Detritus that slices, so deeply unjust,
treacherous terrain bears the anger and hate
Of society's true nature the dead did create.
And on her arrival no pain does she feel,
Immune to her wounds, for the flesh ones will heal,
But full is her heart of despair without end.
She heaves herself upright her message to send
And yells down the crater to whom she knows not,
"Come on, mother fucker, is that all you've got?"