Duality

What kind of man is this?

Who sits idle as his angels die.

Who shuts his eyes and plugs his ears.

Who shrinks from the gaping abyss.

When the truth descends, his name is called.

He must fight his fear and resist.

The darkness spreads.

The demons grow.

What kind of man is this?

Stand tall and look in their eyes.

Watch them dance upon slithering lies.

Wield the truth.

Hear them hiss:

'There's no running from a man like this.'

Sick, Sick

So few even look

At the beauty of life passing by.

So few stop to think

Why the tiny screen beats an infinite sky.

Neural pathways throb and grow

With the clockwork demon's desires.

Indeed, they are not your own.

Technology against you conspires.

I fear these words may be wasted,

For attention is fading - and quick.

What's next in this race towards nothing?

Hurry, hurry! The thumb scrolls click, click...

Collective Confidant

The dark stage teems with tales untold.

Oozing between floorboards.

Whispering in the cold.

All eyes gleam as curtains glide.

The open door beckons.

The mind leaps inside.

Ears perk up, 

As eyes peer in.

The hero strides with purpose.

Lukewarm is quiet sin.

Behold the complex lies

Weaved somewhere in youth.

The hero must suffer greatly

To learn the simple truth.

Hang on every word.

Revelation lurks inside.

In response to raising stakes,

In the audience he'll confide.

Crowing Cock

No doubt.

Dead cert. 

Chickens scratch in the dirt.

Flirty friction.

Nipple perk.

Peck-peck.

Erogenous work.

Ruffle my feathers.

Bring me to the brink.

Yeah, the eggs are what you think.

'Crowing Cock' is the third track 

from Farmyard Fornicators' debut album, 

'Don't ask. Don't swell.'

Violet

On slick summer eves,

Her dreams would bask

In the sun's soft kiss

As it descended, at last,

Beyond the earth's edge; 

Violet and vast.

Eyes linger in the distance, 

As shadows move past.

Ribbitting

Gabby, savvy frogs line the wet tarmac road.

The King's coronation!

The most righteous of toad.

Moonlight drips silver

About his ribbit visage.

Such regal disposition!

Such pristine ribbit lineage!

The Frog King is crowned.

No ribbit tale too tall.

The collective croaks in unison:

'The bloke with the shiny hat rules us all!'

Unrestrained

To override the instinct of self-preservation, 

Commit your mind and spirit.

It's doubt annihilation.

The purpose and the meaning is right outside your door.

Break that cursed lock.

Stop asking for more.

The riches and the glory, we cannot comprehend.

Sure, weigh the precious gold.

It's all for pretend.

Find something to die for. It's the last thing we do.

Stare into the sky more.

Love created it for you.