I can feed your illusions
Alleviate the confusion
With a sweet taste of fantasy
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I can shroud you in darkness
Force you to cry and confess
With a promise of ecstasy
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I can make you wish
I can make you believe
I can make you steal
I can make you deceive
But that’s not the way
I love
As years turn into decades
Look back and find the patterns
The points upon which life pivots
The lines that were crossed
The success, the defeat
The moments where life
Rinses then repeats
And over time you shall see
Far in to the future
“The artist is forever dedicated to their muse. Those ethereal beings from ancient times omnipresent in the physical and the abstract yet only perceived by the few. The few who can bridge the gaps between the limitations of the senses and the cold hard reality of existence.’
‘Would you consider yourself to be an artist?’
‘That’s what people call me although they usually add the word real before the title.’
‘Do you agree with this distinction?’
‘Let me put it this way: I really don’t give a shit about labels or whatever little box people feel comfortable with putting you in but I do care about the meaning of words. You’re either an artist or you aren’t and all artists are real. The distinction is made because most of what is called art is either branding, advertising or mental masturbation. I really don’t have the time for any of it because at the end of the day I’m just a guy looking for answers and when I find some I do my best to share them in a universal way.’
‘What is this way?’
‘The pursuit of truth and the markers you leave behind so that others can find it.’
‘That reminds me of Hansel and Gretel for some reason.’
‘Ha! Just make sure you know who the witch is.’
‘I’ll take note. Have you met many witches?’
‘Metaphorically speaking, I’ve met a few, both good and bad. The good ones gave me guidance while the bad ones made me need guidance.’
‘So, who are the ones I should look out for?’
‘The ones who give you doubt. The ones who mislead you or others. The ones who make you promise while avoiding such a commitment themselves.’
‘I gather you have learned this from experience?’
‘Oh, I’ve been led down the garden path more than a few times. Although, to be honest, my sense of adventure tends to lead me along just to see what the con is but I have been burnt on occasion.’
‘Care to share?’
‘Mmm, I’m a creative type. Inspiration and motivation are key to my creations. Mother nature gave me my first sparks as I’ve watched her be gentle and peaceful as well as be brutal and unforgiving. She is as real as it gets but human nature is a tricky beast. It will sweet talk you in to places you do not want to be. It will learn what is important to you so that you can be lured in to a cage of its making and then it will kill everything you love while you watch. Imprisoned and helpless.’
‘This tricky beast was a person right?’
‘Oh, she was.’
‘What of the love?’
‘Dead as the flame that turned it to ash.’
“You do not win a game of chess by being a chess piece but without them there is no game to play.”
Still
Looking for finality
A satisfying conclusion
To the battles and struggles
Made by man and his illusions
All these years
Decades
Centuries
I have waited for the day
Still
Silence is my appeaser
Where the thought finds a way
To circumvent the conflict
And live another day
Another day of waiting
As decades pass
Centuries
And still I wait
The manipulator dropped one pace behind the hymn while announcing the enemy ahead. The hymn inquired who this enemy may be, seeing nothing more than a startled old couple under a neon glare. “Your family” came the reply and yet the people before the hymn were complete strangers.
The edge dulled
Too many battles
That last conversation
Proved fatal
The end bypassed
By some strange
Twist of fate
We had a moment
That no longer relates
And I dive
In to this hopelessness
Hoping it concludes
Never mind
It doesn’t matter
It’s past
It’s gone
But not as gone
As I am
A ring in the dark
Turns to a whisper
Seeping in to a slumbering soul
The message is clear
But will he remember
Which path to take
To once more feel whole
Read what is written
Not what you think has been said
For the ink is my blood
Running blue
In to red
The author of authority
The law you obey
For I am the predator
And you are my prey
Kneel down before me
And open your soul
I’ll reach deep inside you
And give you a goal
My purpose
Your purpose
I am all you need
But the ink well is dry
So for me you shall bleed
Now read what is written
It is not what you think
For I am the author
And you are the ink
That I spill with abundance
In glory to me
And once you run dry
I’ll declare that you’re free
And worship they will
The one who gave all
In the name of a father
Who let his child fall
In to the pit
Of delusion and hate
In order to live
On the back of your fate
Write the letters
Find the song
Unspoken words
Healing the wrongs
Of days gone by
I missed the point
Of no return
The fork in the road
Where passions burn
And refuse to die
That’s where you stood
With heart on sleeve
Asking me
To just believe
And never question why
Knowledge! I said
Is all need
Whether I smile
Whether I bleed
I’ll hold you deep inside
The GeoSolus Web Log 