On Kings and Other Unfortunate Things

Who truly idolizes the king? Himself of course. But who is it that falls to a knee, head bowed in reverence? The one who aspires to take such a flush seat. The one who sees himself as deserving of all believed to be a kings right. The power to denounce all that does not serve his reign. The power to obtain whatever his fleshy eyes desire. This is who lays his lips close to the ground without the least bit of hesitation.

We will ultimately never know, because reason always seems to fall short in many who say they put it first.

 

How Do You Know?

How many priceless thoughts have vanished before being given a good echo?

If I shade the lines in dark
You’ll know which ones I’ve done

All of them is pretty blunt.
I’ll find something sharper for us

Sometimes I just want it pitch black
I can still see what we need

A deep breath for the last drop
And if we can’t find more – Sweet dreams

I sunk god into the ground faster than he could dance to electro
That wasn’t fair of me though if you ask the theologians
Fuck opinions only offered when tithes are at stake,
or probably if we put them to the stake – Fire in the library
Where were they when my pages were burning;
Alexandria I am sorry
You said I could sleep – And while I did you were taken from me!
Fair to claim you as my loss- It’s not – Fair that he was the one in charge
Angels where were you, was it not to you to test your edge?
How was it when you were watching from your beds?
I should have known you lacked the mettle,
soft as clouds you walk upon,
I hope your feet arrest you when they must walk this ground

Do you want another soliloquy,
Voices in my head or words to myself,
With love I do retire to the shelf
All of those who have outlived this planet’s health
So here take your place, please step from the stage,
It’d be an ugly shame to have to hook you ourselves

Have you ever driven a hook through a writhing worm?
I tell you, you don’t do it if you don’t have the guts.
Because if you play with it, the idea of doing so – Well you tend to deliver a lot more trauma than the hook that goes in with certainty.

Sweet nature’s bend, if I had a home as big I’d take you in;
Away from all these corroded wills, empty inside, no thrills to spill