The Blue Blood Harvest

New clouds are forming

Around a generation of bored animals

Born in to self indulgence

Around the twisted turn of the century

When the noble kind were dead or dying

Killed by what they fought against

Killed by the parents of those bored animals

GeoSolus

A world alone is a world at peace

Four Moons

GSN 4M Test 01

Life

Life. A cycle of sorts that differentiates from other cycles by its ability to evolve when its course is altered. An ability made possible by senses that can detect environment and energy, and an intellect that can process what these senses detect. An ability that creates self awareness, which in turn brings the notion of mortality. Life is thus a fight for survival and the key to this survival is understanding.

A Dare

A very personnel fear

An urge to push away

I feel it say

You’re going to get hurt

You’re going to get hurt

Set a distance

Play it safe

And you won’t feel a thing

Mother

This spinning little rock upon which we can thrive was once little more than a ball of fire. A result of collisions and compounds sharing energy or being obliterated. Energy and matter in violent interaction, fuming and radiant, forming a glowing sphere of intense heat and then: the flames died down, the embers cooled and from the ashes came life.

Akin to this little rock we are born from the flames of passion and are destined to live as embers. Some will ignite new flames, others will simply glow through their existence but ultimately all will turn to ash. So be gentle if you chose to rake through the ashes for they are the foundations and remains of the mythical phoenix.

The beginning and the end.

A Seed

I left you
Where you were meant to dwell
In my heart
In my mind
My child who never was

Heathen’s Hand

I am no son of god
No devil’s spawn
I am a symbol of your world
And all that is wrong
Within your broken cult
A cultural crime
You want what is yours
Yet take what is mine

It is the nature of belief
To refuse the real
To take it all in good faith
But what you have you steal
You are murder, you are pain
An illusion’s fool
Chosen by a doctrine’s way
To be that doctrine’s tool

My nature’s natures way
I have the upper hand
You can keep your fantasies
When nature takes a stand
Strips the flesh from corrupt bones
Foundations of your faith
I shall not pray, nor forgive
When all is laid to waste

A Day

One full spin makes a day and so planet Earth becomes my visual clock. As I am, in between other things, creating a time piece built on imagery.

Futura

You opened the gate
Cut from the race
I picked up the blade
Severed from grace
All those tethers
Bound by feeling
The emptiness
Of your presence

No more goodbyes
The last of those ties
Undone
And the free man returns
To the way
Of his word