I think when he died,
and everyone else seemed to be in shock and mourning,
I felt a swelling anger.
At first I mistook it as possibly
the let down I was feeling,
not just for a role model,
but by the ideal
that with a little bit of laughter,
you could make it through anything.
But then this feeling churned bitterly on,
to the horrible wonder,
of what hope there can be for any of us,
when all the…
We had weaved through the city with relative ease,
and were parked lakeside by high noon.
Joining the vanguard of amp’d up
and vibrantly dark Mayhem marchers,
our foot-stomps created a growing riffscape of anticipation;
Then merch tents and stages came into sight,
as we approached the thunder of double bass kicks and death growls.
The stages became organs,
and we the blood flow they demanded
I’d like to turn the expression of
Into a a conversational turning point,
when a comment is said with a deep cutting tone;
To be said in a comedic impression,
so as to break the immediate bitter and tension,
of any parties involved in the conversation,
before an unnecessary confrontation occurs.
I feel like maybe
I’m just searching for a sound;
Perfect harmonic frequencies
for the opera abyss,
that’s laid silent, dusty, and craving.
To have them reverberating out
through my eyes and actions,
like a storm crow in sight of starlight.
To know I have won
the last battle with my doubts,
that I am living to the capacity
of my fleeting existence,
and I’m passing on waves of inspiration
We’ve got everyone at our back,
but no one has it;
Claw marks in our hopes,
vacant arms to fight for,
and a gas tank in need of a new source.
So we tried switch to solar,
but they blocked the sun.
They won’t do things for themselves,
or try to grow their own.
And though they think they shell the money out,
they’re selling away your home;
Our entire existence
lived not for the limits…