Freak.
I am a freak.
i serve as torment to a life that shouldn't have been.
In mind, in genes, in everything.

there isn't any way in which i can measure such monstrosity.
this that hath been born out of clay, of ash, of silt,
put here on earth, this planet zoo.

why?
i don't know...
will anything ever come easy?
when will all this end?

one year past, one new year,
here at long last, a decade over.
beware little boy, with eyes and ears
listen to the morning song.
in it only the dawn of new beginings,
the finale of all endings,
a sharpened cry at the world.
begone little boy,
you are no more, this world's been placed on
your shoulders.
weeping and crying, this burden you carry
on such small shoulders.
here at long last, a decade over.
one year past, one new year.

Lesson learnt?

we stand here in the burning rain,
staring into the distance,
the pain, the rage, the tears
tearing at our hearts, at our minds,
just one question: why?

cold water from above splashes on,
searing wounds, the pain gushes out,
in like streaks, what's your lesson?
and the whiteboard written in blood
a streak across every little mark...

no answer can you give
(could you even think of one?)
to be built, a resilience?
a character? a serial killer?
why the scars are cut across this face.

all around never fading..
the tears are falling.

In this cold sea of red,
it drips, it drips, it drips...
hear the old fangled seamen's lips.
they speak of times past
all clothed in this red.

the girl she stood there in the water,
she drowns there in your arms
(why didn't you save her?)
the red flows over, the blood on her lips
spoke a tale of love and passion unheard.

the rain it falls, from the cuts and the scrapes,
bleeding from the wounds that wound
around the body.
raining, raining, this bloody rain!
STOP STOP STOP!

his head explodes a bullet now grasps his brain.
ideally a killer's deficeit.
and into his head you would see all the thoughts,
see the pretty lady, at the tree of the dead.
ici, à la mort. agacé.

célestes feux brûlent les méchants mort.
you cannot save me.
you die trying,
crying in the rain.
the wicked lies (you delude yourself).
here in dreams of painted wishes burning up to ashes,
in the frequent place where the body crashes.

bury me. cleanse me. purge me. burn me.

chapter one.

as they walked on from the mountain fall,
up the valley to winter's warmth.
they were running, running away
from april's cruel showers, to find spring.
up on mount ziijah, the path they travelled fades..
'oh ennuya!' he said, 'the path has been split by spades,
a jumbled jigsaw all barren and laid'
                                                              'oh but dear,
to the telesect we must make a way, which way?
which way?'
then the ghosts spoke in constant tone,
hushed,
soft in whispers that went to the bone:
they said, 'ennuya ennuya, thy young hand laid upon the rock,
you flee! you flee, without nothing more you spoke a smile no further.
you must return...flee this city of letters,
return to your seas'

but the deed was done, and the monsters had come,
worse than titans encased in stone, mould and earth,
a murders they committed, yet in mind, they spoke no evil.
surely a madman's pure wish, the ignorance of the sin,
but yet in lies the devil, ever in charming plain site hideth.
he awaits more madness, to frolic in, he awaits in this tainted inn.

and as quick as it had come to mount Ziijah, the fellows watched
as the grass, a green army of leafy blades sprung up,
again to bury the dead.
no one remembers, no one's been.
the telesect remains away hidden still unseen.
so aunty agnes, to tea you promised,
a great cup if you please, two milks and a sugar,
thank you.
                   you say she sprung froth of the golden
abyss?
           aye she, she hath caused many a pain like
that of the one of the froth of chronos came. she
she drugs your brain, like they all do. tear apart
the simple equation and it's frame.
                                                             infectious powers,
men and women all the same.
                                                    aye, a cake if you please.


scrurry scrurry, the rodents ran ahead,
now the rain rails rigidly rampant again.
a storm in the middle of may.
the ships quake and quiver,
quenching back bitter tears of salvation at last,
offer to them at this period of rest,
when waves pounded round and round the ships' back.
oh sailor, sailor,
help me up to the gallows, a green string
will run around my neck.
where be you from?
                                   phoenicia,
where alex rules supreme--
                                                  nay,
a depressed thought, as the spider runs down my lane.
his venom encompassing my veins.
quickly sailor pull the chord, let nothing remain.

and at last the sea turned calm.
into ice it floated down stream,
off the side of the world, inasmuch
it slide away to be held so silently, tired and bloody.
ringing out the pain. mark those words laddy.