The Untitled

The Untitled

 

 

To begin a poem as epic as this,

On this, the beginning of a new year,

It is first necessary to cut off the

Remnants of what came before-

 

This pen needs something new

New thought, new ink, something way

 

                                      Out of the ordinary.

 

I'm thirsty, a little confused,

Feelin' surrounded by misunderstanding or

Nonunderstanding or

Volitional disregard of understanding...

 

Am I alone?

A lone island amidst a vast sea flowing

To Death and a dull superceding of reason

And the will to live,

 

                                   the innumerable boats aloft on belief,

                                   a conviction never to turn back until

                                    They find the End of the World.

 

                                     Is it flowing by, or is my island moving?

 

"This is the End of Days." A lame prophet says.

Gone sunny and stormy days,

Gone pleasure and suffering,

Gone...

Gone...

Gone...

 

But wait, lame prophet,

      Son of Suffering

                                  Cruel Devil

                          Slow Death

                 Fallen Angel

  Lucifer...

 

                                      I see you, hiding,

 

Behind the guise of rightiousness,

                            Love,

                      Religion,

               Compassion,

            Life

And Light

 

                                     I see you, ready

 

To devour my innocent children,

To kill the seeds of all Life

 

                                    I see you.

                                    I know you

 

Sad Angel of Light

                     So vain and prideful,

Fallen

                     And desiring to be Right

So badly

                      You'll forsake the entire world

To assuage

 

                                  Your ego,

                                   Your Hell,

                                  Your flames of desire,

                                   Your conviction...

 

                                   I see you.

                                   

                                   I know you

 

Secretly wish to burn up this world,

Raze all of humanity in your fires of oblivion

And maybe then,

            In the cool voidness of death,

Find comfort.

 

Know this, though,

Your confidence may well be your undoing.