When all comes to an end , when time doesn't turn for you and the tide stops crying your name.Death, written as a magical kingdom ,in the clouds above.An old king sits upon a throne.I've imagined something quite different as a childlying alone .To me the end is like drowning ,backwards , falling into a lightless abyss of pure nothing.Endless ,her walls made up of flesh.No light ,no sound , only that horrible scent.The smell of rotten flesh , burning corpses, death is not a place ... it's a smell There are arms awaken from her sides ,reaching for you trying to pull you to them.They are your loved ones helping you find your way back home.I am an abandoned child,a forgotten memory,no arms to take me home.Will I fall forever...
On a days end , I find myself standing before a painting.Madewith only Black,Grey,Brown,Gold and of course blood red.Loomed by misery and sorrow , painted by an artist chained by insanity bolted by a world he didn't belong to.Build on an abandoned farm ,appears repairs haven't been made since the early 1900's.Her paint has long faded away ,leaving the grey and brown bones exposed beneath.The behemoth song , forgotten somewhere in time , this house burns with the sent of irretrievable.Life will not , can not reach this place, even the untamed lawn died long ago under the light of the midnight sun.
-Where did we go?-
So many questions, none i expected to be answered.If i reach out could i smear the sky...
-What do we want?-
To be forgave ,to be forgotten.To live without ever caring how the story ends.A urge to claw my face ,to add some colour to this somber illustration of the human soul.But then I would have blood under my finger nails.
-Reach out and take the red in the sky...-
I followed her dirt covered legs(this whole place seemed to be made of dirt and wood)to the edge of her infested womb.I have never felt benevolence,never been loved,but until right now ,I have never felt so alone...
-Try to remember ... the sweet,statisfing taste of innocent lamb-
"How's your lamb baby?" Morgan asked.Her focus
wasn't on that of her husband sitting across from her,but out of
the only window in Polly's (a dinner in the small town of Duncan
Falls,Ohio).She watched as a teenager wearing a Slayer T-shirt
run across 60 to buy a ice cream from Dairy Queen .Stopping for a
speeding semi,never knowing just how close his life was to ending
right there."Thunder Crashes" Morgan thought.Scared,doubt what
was going to become of me.So beautiful only 23,how was she able
to do this.To live her life,to keep everything from falling to
pieces in her hands.She loved her husband,but she just couldn't
tell him.No no yet,no right now anyway.What if he didn't want
it?What if he left her all alone?Morgan touch her stomach.It was
growing inside of her,a part of her that would breath life in
eight months.How could she tell him that she was
"Fine,are you okay honey? You don't look so good."
He would of torn us apart,my god she was only 23
at the time.
-Seems you did a good enough
job at that yourself-
He would of disappointed me,achieved more then I
did.I was trapped in a life i hated
.Dying,how could i give him life while I stood there...dying.
-Just like you to think of
I'm tired of this place,it's filled with tarnish memories.Why were they all coming back now?And where was I at?
Jay-Jay the whale swims in
He says with a knife I can learn how to fly
Jay-Jay the whale takes the children home after they die
The haunting voice came from a child perched on top of the half collapsed porch.Left behind just waiting for the day it would finally join it's falling comrades below.The child appeared to be burnt or completely covered in black dirt.Wearing shredded rags,the only colour came from his glowing white eyes that stared at me.Like a wolf staring at his prey.Like a child staring at his father.
Jay-Jay the whale swims in the sky
He says with a knife I can learn how to fly
Jay-Jay the whale takes the children home after they die
"We could start a family"Morgan
cried falling face first onto the very same coach,
she had spent the last loney week.Taking a pillow she covered her face."You,me,and...
our son...your son."
"Shut up,Morgan,Just Shut the fuck up.Jesus Christ and his whore of a mother.How many times do I have to fucking repeat myself before the ship gets a leak and startes to sink into your fucking head?I have no fucking son.You want to keep him,like a child wanting to keep a dog?You can raise him on the streets,working as some crack whore waitress in some 59 cent burger joint giving truckers blow jobs in the restroom so he can havehis bottle at night.He'll grow up poor,with nothing,he'll lay a sleep one night and pray to god you've listen to me.How many guys did you fuck Morgan?How many guys did you fuck in my house while I was at work?How many?!
Her muffled voice howled,"No one,I've only been with you.I loved you,Chris."
"He's not my son,you're getting the abortion tomorrow or I swear to God.Tonight I'll carve that little bastard fetus out of you myself"
"At night,when I'm trying to fall asleep i can feel his heart beating ...in tune with mine."
"After tomorrow we won't have that problem anymore."
Morgan whispered,"after tomorrow I wont even be able to feel my own heart beating.After tomorrow I'll be like you."
A leaf blown in the late August wind,trying to escape this prison lined with thread and traded dreams...known as Duncan Falls.
-Don't you see the pigs?-
What pigs?The disgusting,filthy beasts.Chewing away at some unknown item in the center of their gathering.A arm shot up from the feast.Laughing,do I hear laughing?Whatever is getting feed upon is screaming with joy,like a child's first birthday party.
"Eat,Eat it all.Devour my face.Make me beautiful,I want to see who I am on the inside.What's really on the inside?What's beneath all this useless flesh?Eat it away until my eternal smile shows for all the world to see."
His voice started to gargle,one of the swans must of discovered just how tasteful the human throat is.
Like my pride and hopes,it all slowly,just faded away.Leaving behind only me.
Only me standing in front of my deepest nightmare manifested into reality.Pulled to life by the loneliness of my heart,forever a fray.
-What do you have to live for now?Morgan?-
No not Morgan,if I was bathed in gasoline.Morgan would pick up smoking just so she could use me as an ashtray.
-Oh,maybe your father perhaps?-
If i was bathed in gasoline.I'm
pretty sure my father would be behind it all.Who are
-We are the broken toys,thrown aside by spoiled children.The waiting to be old,and the old waiting to die.The pain of a lost loved and the cold metal bullet that makes it all go away.Oh Chris,you know I love the way you struggle,but in the end I'm here to win.-
I'll just turn around,open the gate behind of me.Walk down the dirt road who hides in the shadows of the unknown.Then then next home I came to would be the same as the one beforee .The house after that would be the same and the one after that...
I slowly turning the knob,the hinges of the door collapse after only half way opened.It's destinycompleted maybe one of us could finally be at peace.Odor so strong it burns the throat.My only pray would be to throw up,help cover the taste from the Land of the Dead.Straight ahead was a closet wall to the lefted a kitchen to the right only god knew what.Hanging on a bent rusty nail was a dusty painting.A child standing at a fountain,deciding wheether or not to take the hand of the women bending down,nose to nose in front of her.The beautiful queen told the child "I need to bath in your blood.It helps me get read of the stains left by the sun.As the light starts to fade,I will be still beautiful and you would of already went away.
The kitchen was a pathetic
site.The once white refrigerator,now brushed with yellow
smoke.Dripping with dried red.Left over corpses of vermin
creatures layer patterned across the counter and mixed with the
broken dishes in the sink.Unfinished dinner.The only light came
from a small window above the sink.Rays reached through the
broken glass.Muddy foot prints (not shoe prints)lead to the
center of this ghoulish abstract.My step on top of an insect(hard
to tell what species,seemed every kind had come to communicatein
this misery owned kitchen)Reminds me of breaking twigs on a fall
then followed by what is similar to splintering wood,snapping under focus.No sound,no screams,how does an insect accept death with such ease.The kitchen table,long enough to feed two families at thanksgiving.Rotten fruit and a dull old figure left over from a gruesome past.Face covered with a paper bag,hands hiding under the oak carved table.
-Look closer,what is it?-
the man spoke,"We build it for you,out of all the missing parts.The children helped,they lined up right over there.Lined up one another another ,not saying a word.It's like they already knew what to do.You think Jesus came to them in a dream?Show them what to do.They cut off their fingers one after another.Bless their souls,after their fingers they started chopping off their toes.Toes",the man chuckles,"What was I going to do with little toes.She wanted to help you know."I could feel the mans convincing eyes looking at me."She wanted to help,I could see it you know in her eyes,hear it in her voice,Hell Chris,Chris I could smell it on her breath.Let me show you."The band removes whatever he was holding under the table up to the light of reality,so i could see their creation.
-It's like knowing the secret to an magicians trick.We are the used Chris.The glimpse from a blade(glass works the same as a knife),when you wanted it all to just end.That's me smiling at a child doing what his father has told.-
The corpse sitting at the table screamed"You have swanered your time boy.Did you think we wouldn't notice,wouldn't see through your plan.You just throw them on ,one after other.It had to fall,boy,Babel's Tower.That's why the french speak french you know.Because they tried to touch heaven.Was that what you were going to do boy.Is that how you were going to fix your mistake?Just reach up into heaven and pull me down?Where was you Chris,as I was laying backwards in a puddle of my own blood.As the water stain on my bathroom ceiling tore apart into a stairway to heaven.Where was you?
Stairs where do they lead?I climbed them,one after another,The last step I might ever take,the last breath I might ever breath.The top filled with disappointment,an open door.A hiding room.Only a bed,clothed in moth feed covers.
Morgan her beautiful chalk coal hair flowed furiously,her pale skin glowed,her white nightgown...memories of lusted filled nights.Her head chewed off,replaced by the crown of a ram's head glazed with white eyes.
Morgan spoke to me
-You made this Chris,down to every last tooth and
nail.You've created all of this.You've never built a home,but all
your hate and misery has created this one.
Judgement Chris,while I was alive I tried to think of it.How are we created,why aint we like the animals.Judgement,not god,not evil judgement is what controls our life.A scale created it all.and you Chris your hate greatly out weigh your small curled but dying soul.You've cost me mine.When you made me loose my baby.and now,Oh they have so many plans for you,Chris.You'll live over and over again drowning in my pain through out all eternal.You have been discontinued Chris...now your drift off into the nothingness known as death...whale has swallowed the sky...-