Author: Will Johnstone

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path,
and the dust of yesterday's forgotten past arose quietly in it's wake.

Motionless, I stared in a floating daze,
while clouds billowed and changed...

I wonder how such a place, could be missed by so many people,
so many who I share this existence with?
Why do they not experience this heart felt yearning
to arise from the routine slumber and venture out into the night air?
Wandering beneath the stars.
Breathing the unspoiled freshest air.
No cars.. No factories... No people...
Just gentle silence, sweet air,
and the full moon...
Keeping it's watchful eye over me.

A sense of returning, and reforming, rebuilding and recalling...
I have cast off darkness by emerging into it, fear faced and thirst quenched,
I feel a change...

The re-emergence of thought...
Solace

The appearance of a fear I'd once forgotten, long ago,
swept my mind clear - of all I had built on the years 'til now.
A sharp threat of an unwanted emotion draws a blank,
as I sprawl the days amid soulless faces.

Evil was far from the concious mind, but for endlessness,
weary I fought on in this war of faceless souls.
Bleeding into the earth, reborn in the sun...
The righteous heroes engraved their names across the bones of those
who could no longer...

Time stood still among the ages...

Relentless, as the warriors sword,
do as they will be told.
Something came loose in the machine of this war,
maybe an answer? Or questionable foe?
I hold no name, but in my life seek solace.
I gather no worldly possessions, nor angst.
I found myself, a piece of mind, and then sought further peace in mine.

I fell on the wind as I whispered the name,
the crows had all gathered and kept parts of my way,
I fell to the waves as they beckoned my veins,
but as I fell, I broke on the air.

We hang on our souls in beautiful times,
like delicate flowers where fairies reside.
The parts that we play here will never be changed,
since you left me alone with my waves.

Inter-Rhythmic Time Displacement

The death of a soul worth fighting for,
from a world of pain, in an endless war,
sucking the life from the veins of eternity,
draining the blood of this altered reality,
standing alone, where i killed off the excess,
meaningless words from the wasted wreckage of drunkeness,
a universal understanding of existential forboding,
inter-relating situationally shifting changes are drowning me,
drowning in blood, and in life, and the words that you wrote while
lying into subsections of incomprehensible perpetuating chaos,
annihilative destructive forces in undiluted madness,
decreation of time and space, and an infinite harness...

The end was not worth - that which was not worth the mention,
but the underlying statements of the politically incorrect make it blatant.
The world at its knees, while I stand corrected.
As the end of it all, has just been erected.

Veteran Of A Forgotten World

I once fought a war that echoed through time,
enclosed in a fist that drowned me in wine,
I gave away life to the down trodden crime,
and I rode out the storm in my mind.

Stories who rippled like waves on the tide,
beginnings of endings where angels reside,
an opening rhythm reflected our pride,
yet hung with the shadows at night.

Beckoning nightmares of spectres so dark,
I then bought the lies where the evil would lurk,
I called on a God who dismissed it as farse,
and I fell through this world into hell.

The bastion of solace I surrounded in pain,
reprieved of serenity, sanctuary craved,
horrific malpractice, misconduct enslaves,
and I fought, but they fought to the grave.

I once knew a sombre but permanent friend,
an undoing of justice had met with their end,
I mistreated the needs of the many and few,
and I lost my good friend and the truth.

Whirlpool psychosis sucked down on the weary,
burning hot winds whipped the eyes of the fearing,
annihilative destruction and chaotic endearing,
where a hole had appeared in my silence.

I gave back the blood that was spilled in my war,
I drank from the lustless, and ate with a whore,
I kept all advice that helped me build a wall,
and climbed back from the depths of my fall.

A train in a station, from one nameless town,
gave me safe passage from where I was drowned,
I now see a light in the blackest devoid,
and I'm free from the freedom I frayed.

Nameless Vagrant

The snake spoke in riddles across my wandering eidetic dreams,
it spoke of the past,
and walked into an oblivion amidst my thoughts...
Twisted dead trees, knotted by torture, in winds of pain and anguish
The blood of yesterday no longer coursed in the veins -
that ran labyrinths through time.

A magnetic tar pit boiled and churned,
the snakes soul writhing in its own sick entity,
raging and dying, snapping and splitting at the seams,
where the souls fled the rampage,
an inert fear that illudes the eye, and alludes the mind,
fleeing a world of dark magic and devastation.

The disappearance act of time, in it's inexplicable sense of reality,
began the tracing of our blueprints, realigning the solemn stars -
as they burned alone in the night sky, fading away into the distance,
further, and further still,
into the never, eternally ever, and forever.

A hazy light shot rays, and rang out across the billowing smoke
in it's melancholy slumber, hanging in the air,
and to the ones who no longer really see it,
dancing in the light, a small sense of gratitude,
in gifts left at my side.

Illness breaches the last of my strength,
nothingness and aparent emptiness.
Smiling still, yet brim full of negativity.
How this trade works is unfathomable, I give my life here,
to scrounge for the scraps and be treated such ways.

The faces leave and darkness rides over the streets...
Only the dim lamp lit alleys, shop signs,
and the occassional meandering footsteps who echo between the buildings...
Silence once again... Solitude... Cold and biting, always nipping the exposed flesh,
in a world full of strangers, the place so familiar, open, but cold and silent.

Words of hatred, written in blood on the cell walls,
coughing a death all over them all,
breathing the fumes of machines built long ago,
struggling to fight in waves of sadness, give up the ghost.
It speaks back in voices, heard only alone,
of squandered opportunities, and all the dreams, had, but had so long ago.
Four walled mental tomb enveloped in fear,
as the rising sound of silence becomes a crescendo...

Have I eaten my dear?
... No...
However, I've drank... I drank all my tears...
I'd drink all my years, but for money.

I drank that snakes blood, devoured in wrath.
Pissing life against the walls,
while the snakes beckoned darkness to rid me of shame,
vehement disgust in my jail term of hate,
I now realize the darkness was far worse than shame.
I stood and said nothing,
while I watched, and I threw my whole life on the flames.

How I hate the snake,
his words twisted me,
and left me here to rot,
the slow desolate dripping of an old stank,
the sound of wind almost too far to hear,
grown mens cries in the blackest of nights,
years that feel a thousand,
minutes lasting months,
a desolate existense indeed snake,
why did I refute to pay heed?

This cell I fear, is only of mind,
the hell I feel is only inside,
yet hanging on the wind in the dead of this night,
is the evil that ere lurks behind...

A fear, you will fear, who crept inside...

And forever more, I shall hide.