And The World Fade To Grey

The world sometimes acts as a trial itself. I thought if there were a porter to this world of ours, what would he say? How would he act? What would he show us.....?

And The World Will Fade To Grey

A poem by Alejandro Manuel Espinoza

Birth

Standing at the entrance to the catacombs, Imperfection steps from the womb
Unclear is the reality of The End, and in the wake of Nirvana, Shadows begin to loom
Stagnant hatred exists within these halls, beneath this threshold, and in the walls
Beyond the opaque mirror that is existence, there are many harms and many falls!

The Life Journey Begins

Welcome, newcomer, to a world of towering degradation
A faint pulse of life, a sorrowful nation, its children filled with trepidation
Look beyond the ruins of a sphere once entwined with pure life,
As its denizens trek on its dry surface, each visage written with strife.

The Prejudice Masquerade Ball

Look, below you, fellow traveler, to The Masquerade beneath your feet!
So grand are the golden glasses and the diamond dishes! What a feat!
Spin and twirl do these party goers do,
As they ignore the silhouette outside that is you!

Such a wonderful Masquerade ball this is! All the attendees clad in white,
Uniformity and solidity, dresses are satin and suits are bright,
They will scream and yell and be intoxicated beyond the night!

Can you go in, you ask? Absolutely not!
For your skin is much too burned to belong in this lot!
Oh, stranger, weep not at the discrimination against you,
Why would you want to belong to the crowd that will crush you and bleed you?
Long for them not, dear child, you are perfect in every way,
Realize you must resist, for they will torment you everyday.

Pity them, dear stranger, for they don't know they will not come back,
That their hearts have turned grey and their souls have burned black!
They know not that the ashes are not truthfully gold;
They know not how they will become lost when they grow old.
So leave them, stranger, in the jeweled orgasmic fold!
As their silver tarnishes to black and their women melt to old!
Drift on from this place of corpses in delusional ecstasy;
This world of torn cities has so much more for you to see!



The Sewers of The Self Condemned

Walk with me, past these tall iron gates,
A place where the light of God abrogates.
For us, there is a red carpeted way,
Walk on this path, and on this path you must stay.

Think of the all white Masquerade,
As they hid transgressions in the night shade.
Look, under here, at the all black facade,
Covered by frightful masks, in a grim pasquinade.

Ceramic faces painted in their own blood,
They drown, but flourish in sewers, enveloped under lakes of mud.
Kneel as the overhang becomes low,
Avoid the fingers reaching out to you from the deceased flow.

Their hell is as they have crafted it,
Tormented by choice, choking in their own spit.
Cover your ears as they bellow false words, remain in apathy,
Cursed are you to give them your sympathy.
Succubus and Harpy are the true forms of these,
Their tears and bleeding are methods of tease.

Carnival Pandemonium

Surfaced have we from compressed and stagnant air,
Ah, in the distance, a carnival, a fair!
Wheels of fortune and games testing luck,
Rooted in the desire for joy, in blissful inebriation they are forever stuck!

There, in the sky, shoots the pharmaceutical high,
It is The Burning Kaleidoscope of Color, Oh My!
Look how high, Oh, the sky is so high!
And here they come, crashing back from the releasing high,
Oh, but the high ride has seemed to subside,
Look, as they give up their body for another ride.

Ah, and there is the Merry Go Round,
Swirling deeper and deeper into squalid ground.
Its patrons drool, make love in pandemonium,
If they let that world dwindle, they return to reality, the unwanted asylum.

Fun? No, not at all.
In the very end,
They will ride these rides in dumpsters, in a filthy bathroom stall,
In the very end,
They will not ride at all.

These places of joy
Will attract innocent girl and boy,
But like a Venus Fly Trap,
It will grip their bodies, and make them snap.

Cheap tourist attractions these are,
Pieces of metal on blackened tar.

Relinquished Souls of Stolen Will

We have looked at the world and its lustful lost,
Take notice to the atmosphere, where Northern Lights have crossed.

Listen, to the secrets whispered in the skies,
The women's weeping and children's cries,
Children who lay against the floor, robbed of will,
Until abusive demons have had their fill
Of flesh and death upon their hands,
Of tears and screams, of terrible demands.

Come to weep for those with no choice,
Send them a prayer, a hopeful voice.
Send them a kiss,
As they wade in the abyss.

The Sacrificial Lamb, Dies on Demand

We stand here, in the wake of the tyrants, the all powerful who desire to be God.
Do you not find that the land they build in looks a bit odd?

They are architects, building skyscrapers with the skin of obedient sheep,
Stealing from the shepherds, who can only fall to ground and pitifully weep,
Pray that the flock is peaceful in eternal sleep.

Gods who slaughter with impunity!
Gods who are immune to immunity!
Gods who destroy the community!
And with the world's blood they build the Idyllic Neo-city!

Those polished shoes and crisp blue suits
Will never rid them of the truly selfish roots....

When We Reach The End, In The Wake Of Nirvana

Manic black realm we reside in, do you not agree?
Have you seen enough of what there is too see?
Have you not seen how wrathful this planet can be?

Bid farewell to the Gods who stand watch over earth!
They will continue to feed on flesh, growing palaces to great girth!

Nirvana is near, leave this world, dear friend, take the choice,
Seek Nirvana's voice...

Sanity I have lost, lived too long in this world have I,
It is finally time for us to say goodbye,
Stranded stranger, there is light at the end of the tunnel, escape before you are taken.
If you believe all will turn right, you are greatly mistaken.

The Last Trumpet Will Be Blown
(Seven Trumpets To Call For The Dead, Death Will Be Sown)
And God Will Return To Take Back The World
(Taking The Palaces That The Men In Blue Have Unfurled)
And The World Will Fade To Grey
(Crops Will Die, Insects Will Become The Light Of Day)
And The Heavens Will Turn Red
(Painted By The Black Angel With The Blood Of The Dead)
And The Waters Will Boil To Black
(Poison Seeps From The Undersea Crack)
And The Beasts Will Fall To Dust
(No More Life, No More Lust)

 

 

Author's Note

The world sometimes acts as a trial itself.