I Prefer Not To.
all life
desires love
along myriad planes
of consciousness
to have been born
is to possess
the capacity to love
the intrinsic furnace
that burns within
every star
mirrors
that which exists
within each heart
allow not
the perception
of separation
to divide us
lest we spiral
into the solitude
of oblivion
ceaselessly
caught between
two worlds of wonder
one of which
i revel
in a beauty
yet untold
watching it unfold
in muted ponder
another
so disheveled
that i shudder
to behold
ruthlessly
comprised
of pealing thunder
underneath
the undulation
lies a plundered soul
pandering
the plight
of its condition
haunted
by the light
ever lingering
on yonder
longing
for an answer
to it all
sitting
watching
waiting
get me
the fuck
out of here
how many hours
must i spend
until this hell
is over
and even then
it might not
truly end
for all i know
wishes are the whims of wastrels
waiting for the world to turn
upon the drop of faceless dimes
amid a burning empire spurned
timid tales shall move no mountains
mend thy heart by will of mind
ardent kindness fells the wicked
ailing veils of thin disguise
seize the reins of thine oppressor
tyranny reigns not by virtue
if we are to acquiesce to tenets of naught
so becomes truth
heed the words of honored adage
in this era of remorse
lest their greed abscond thy haven
wresting faith through fearful discourse
with all that we may stand to gain
or lose
upon a single breath
prudence yet eludes
our voice of truth
flaunting our pathologies
solicitudes become us
highwaymen who strum
submissive hearts
creatures born of covetous
convinced by vaporous conviction
candy coated candor
with a cracker jack surprise
desiccated eyes
no longer fit
to hold this thin disguise
rolling to reveal a hollow head
where tears unshed yet hide
let the earthen bounty
be your pillow
as the balsam breeze
tucks you in its whispered lull
tonight
our frailty
is forgiven
heaven dare not fathom
to assail us
whence we lay
its offerings
are present
for the taking
as prismed apparitions
through shifting crypts of time
searching for the shadow
of forgiveness
where folding stars
outstare the eye of jupiter
death is but a fear unsound
thought traps within
the silent walls that bind us
stepping through
eternal mirrors
on journeys shared as one
‘neath these precious suns
of stoic tempest flare
it is only the truly wicked
who possess a patience
without precedent
biding their time
making the rounds
with a sycophant guile
playing to all parties
to siphon surreptitiously
the fruit born
of their sadist seed
safe within the harbor
of ambiguous locution
summoning boundaries
with care not to overstep
striking
with the sword
of inference
shielded
by vagary
diligently
doling out
their nettled
words of wanton wreckage
draped
in disingenuousness
brazen
like a khalkotauroi
calculating
every move
to prove themselves
the victor
walk with trepidation
my friend
lest ye draw
their straw of ire
for its burden
ne’er retires
the fire
consuming all
there are only so many metaphors
that serve to justify this pain
so many words
chewed up
and spit back out
onto surfaces
whose purpose
carries all burdens
these feelings are like water
journeying alone
in a fearless freefall
crashing into the earth below
to join the fates
that all have known
still, each fragment
leaves its mark
for others to embark upon
in the hour
of our exodus to exile
the skies belong to one
as one to all
as life itself
bleeds into the eyes
at the horizon
we take our tragic pittance
wrought from anguish
each within the alchemy intrinsic
to their own
to spin the loom
and weave majestic tapestries
of triumph
to share the secrets
intimately held
by furtive moons
our distance
belies summation
amid the sacred frivol
we chose
to quantify
ourselves
defiant
like the sentience
of existence
inundated
with the drivel
waning tides forgot
to tell
timeless dimensions
lay between
the worlds
within these walls
teemed with apprehension
we haplessly watch
verity unfurl
drifting
into ruin
time
was the circumstance
that drove paper nails
through weightless
coffins
to think
we once knew
as desperately
we dangled
from tresses
of concession
composed of gold
which stretched
for many miles
beyond
the trenches
of our youth
i look now
upon days gone
eschewing
but nowhere
are you to be found
lost
perhaps
in the vaulted yonder
where obsidian
gaurds
the earthen tomb
Max, or Not 
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