Tag Archives: writings

Mountain of Skulls

The bones flowing in the bloody river collide
In the arms of my guitar,
As I rise through the endless
Pile of skulls sprayed around me
The scarlet sky blazes in the backdrop
Of the hellfire, bent on the
Apocalypse of human consciousness.

I use their orbits as a jug
And climb up above like a thug
A mountain of skulls
Filled with memories of the forgotten,
Resting around to decompose into the Earth
The mountain grows bigger and bigger
As time goes by,
And the ones below get pushed further down.

Once I get to the top 
I must make a choice
The others will be waiting for me
As I gave my word to the bard
I promised him I will play my guitar 
And I'll play my songs
I'll share the voices, of those unheard.

But he warned me that 
It'll come with a price
Though at the moment 
I only have my mind on the ticket out
And climbing up this mountain,
Stepping on the skulls of the deceased,
Is only way out.

I take a step and pull Raven up,
She's right behind me, trying to keep up
I tried to tell  her 
About my talk with the bard
But she said she's heard bout' it
And even knows what choice I'll make
But I don't ask her.

I like to think I have some control,
Though my experiences contradict that belief.
My hand's blistering with pain,
I think we're almost at the top.
I look at Raven - she looks morose 
And somehow even prettier than before.

I ask her why it's gotta be me,
Who has to make the choice.
She hides behind her dreary smile
And speaks in her lucid voice,
"You know that, don't you?
You're the boy who entered dreams,
By escaping bone cages called cities."
In that moment, our feet touch the mountain peak
And the countless skulls collapse underneath.








And Then The Bard Spoke

Hanging by the doors, into the windows of mist
That carry your arms to me, in a moment of bliss,
Carry them like the self loathing bastard you are,
Your words don't mean shit in here!
They'll grind you and tear you and make you adhere.

You are young and you're hopeful, you want to do something noble
You think you owe it to your life, like it'll get you your prize
But you don't know of the price that you have pay, to do something in this world your way.
Speak up to people who beat us down, you gotta be some kinda clown.
I know I was - believing in the lies of the world, that once made me a god,
I believed I stood for something, I thought I could change something,
But the world is a bottle factory, molding people into it's own slavery
It will drain your thoughts out of you, make you spill the words you brew
In your head with a meaning, and exploit them to fill their billing.
You can tell people all you want, they only listen to what they want,
Nobody's interested in the truth, just package sugar-dreams for the buoyant youth.
I used to believe I stood for something, I thought I'd help them questioning
But I was just another minion, instead helping them maintain their dominion.
They took her away from me, before I could even see,
And now I lay trapped in this dungeon, forgotten like someone redundant
Nobody will mourn when I die, like nobody mourned when you said goodbye.
Run Away ye Lad, run away somewhere far from here!
Take your pretty lass' hand, they're coming to get her.

Orpheus in the Underworld

Late night at the fortress, high, 
Higher than a kite in the sky,
Surrounded by people smelling of piss and sweat 
Dirty walls holding tears of it's thousand inmates.

Segregated and kept separated
Beaten and tortured until broken
Locked in these cells like animals, who don't cooperate,
Spend forever here on charges of crimes against the state.

Blades run for those who disobey,
Killing all that comes on it's way,
Chains bind them to their doom,
Going mad together in this tomb.

My mind's intoxicated, all my senses blurred
Thoughts pummel my head, bordering on the absurd
I need to get to Raven,I need to fortify her
But the visions in front me form a constant blur.

Inside the cages filled with golden canaries,
These walls hide their most priced possession,
A hundred year old bard,
With long flowing hairs and beard
Whiter than Gandalf, from the darkness appeared
Growling in a voice, strong enough to persuade even the purest
To melt even the strongest
And to cure even the sickest.
Blinded by the light, I bow down on one knee
And listen to Orpheus go on a recitation spree.