Book of Rampage Read online

  I would guess that you sang beautifully

  on your way toward our hell.

  I want to tell you

  the idea you are to me

  is invincible and real.

  It kills me and

  rips me apart with quiet grace.

  I believe we exist to dream

  near the highest point of imperfect glory

  suffering slightly for others like us.

  Delusional Superstar

  There is no doubt in my mind

  tonight is one of the nights

  memories are made of.

  If you let it pass

  you won’t spend a moment

  regretting the chance –

  knowing nothing of what could have been.

  If you embrace,

  you may spend more than a lifetime

  watching something beautiful

  echo through the heavens.

  Not because

  anything is in balance

  or in check.

  But rather,

  because the memories that define are backward, devastating, or

  exploded by fantasy.

  It doesn’t

  make sense and

  kills me

  every time I realize

  it’s another night

  memories are made of.

  Split

  At times,

  all that matters is

  the music blasting into your ears or

  the music blasting from your heart.

  I hear a whisper:

  What denies you, defines you

  in what you deny yourself.

  Ways will become open to you

  of your old desires

  thought dead and buried.

  What frustratingly rejects you initially

  is easily grasped when you no longer thirst

  desperately.

  I hear a whisper:

  What you obtain, betrays who you are

  in how temptation burns to take you.

  The ease of falling

  will always be in tune

  with the strength of your resolve.

  It is wise to expect

  a certain war within

  struggling since some opportunities

  ought to be discarded.

  At times,

  all that matters is

  the music blasting into your ears or

  the music blasting from your heart.

  Stasis Breaking

  On the wings of the phoenix

  I say

  be destroyed

  and destroy in turn.

  Listen to

  the guns within and

  the voice of reason.

  Then decide

  which direction is heaven.

  Harness

  in tune

  with mercy.

  Aligning with the narrow door

  is to split yourself

  with your brother.

  This means

  breaking stasis

  as you enable in ways leading astray.

  Listen to

  the guns within and

  the voice of rage.

  Then decide

  which direction is hell.

  Unleash

  in tune

  with grace.

  On the wings of the phoenix,

  I say

  be reborn

  and fuel rebirth in turn.

  Redemption Style

  The trick is to realize

  everything will be done to you

  just beyond your limit.

  You will be pushed to perfection

  as far as you can be pushed.

  So harness your will and understand

  your gifts and what is expected

  the damage you could inflict or

  the inspiration you could ignite.

  Only it’s not so easy

  as that.

  To rise above frustration, hatred, rage

  to quiet your mind amidst distraction and speak

  the voice meant to be yours.

  Watcher and Destroyer,

  Liar and Word Weaver,

  I hear you very well.

  Do not deny yourself.

  Each day, bleed fire into this reality

  secretly,

  gracefully and without shallow purpose.

  What remains is unique;

  truly you.

  Leaver 1

  The leaver is the ultimate sacrifice –

  breaking your own heart because you love someone enough

  to let them walk away content.

  You can feel its strain; its painful pinching

  contorting the soul into something dark.

  The leaver is a lesson you receive

  at the gates of hell.

  Hearing its sweet and terrible music

  crashes hearts to their knees as the notes flow by.

  The leaver is the most impossible of all hopes

  to move on,

  because you are sick from loss.

  Such is the extent of the sacrificed love.

  The leaver burns,

  ready to be unleashed;

  if time should call it to duty,

  may God have mercy on your soul.

  Leaver 2

  The cause was set but the winds they’re changing

  to move several directions at once.

  You dance on the breeze tired and hurt.

  I almost have you in my healing hands, but

  the wind keeps you just out of reach,

  teasing.

  These gusts formed by my old design,

  a trick of karma so cruel,

  remind me of what happened.

  I’ll spin the wind ‘round forever

  never so harsh or loud again.

  Streams of waking air run deeply for you,

  strong on the summers breeze,

  whispering softly in your ear

  silent promises of love.

  Sun Fire Song

  An invisible hand snaps its fingers

  sparking a flame

  behind the curtain of illumination.

  Light if another kind,

  I see you through sun-shaped eyes,

  building a melody of soft destruction.

  As the music flows,

  notes devour the resistance of a stubborn heart,

  now derailed;

  defeated.

  Song of fire,

  I will listen endlessly,

  till nothing remains.

  System Trigger

  I saw your name on a page today.

  The letters caught like a sharp reminder,

  inspiring projections of time never spent,

  not stolen from me

  but lost in tragic style.

  In context with reasons I must believe,

  you exist as a story I carry,

  sometimes making me stronger or

  crushing me with weight.

  Like a trigger designed to fire my purpose,

  you force me to comprehend

  thoughts that will be taken for granted.

  I hope we all make it there,

  together.

  What’s set in motion

  is a life considered unextraordinary

  through the eyes of most.

  The system I feel

  makes the people worth it.

  Every time I fail,

  I think of you.

  My words hold no meaning

  as your name threatens to replace them,

  each day,

  I hide how much I love you.

  The Game: a Challenge Sense

  Few exist

  in tune with the game.

  Influence stretches people back and forth;

  halfway they wish for their challenge sense to erupt

  from shallow sleep.

  The other half

  is satisfied

  they do not push or

  pull.

  Hope of rising above

  is absent from their minds.

  The thirst for a challenge,

  dormant,

  controlled by just enough

  damnation.

  As players fight this apathy,

  craving destruction within

  they play the game.

  At the same time

  they are afraid.

  A struggle emerges

  that cannot end

  in this life.

  Few exist

  who know they play the game.

  Gamble the Question, Gamble the Odds

  For everything you imagine

  there exists a set of statistics.

  Numbers impossible to see or comprehend spin inside your mind,

  causing conflict, pain, joy, and so much

  to endure.

  Could you beat the odds

  within yourself?

  Would you bet your life

  based on your tendencies?

  And which side would you choose

  if the stakes were high;

  the probability of

  rising to the occasion.

  One minute of your life for a random guess,

  another for an awkward pause,

  a lifetime for a risk gone awry.

  Numbers you will never know

  bend and twist your world -

  statistics of your life.

  5D

  The most you can do

  is train your mind to operate

  outside the realm of normality;

  outside the realm of comfort.

  Because it’s true

  we cry out for an alternate reality.

  It’s true

  it beckons

  just beyond reach.

  This world is balanced,

  how we perceive one moment after another,

  blind to the future,

  yet able to recall time just barely behind us.

  This balance,

  though it be eternity’s illusion,

  is the very definition of free will.

  There will come a day

  we share a laugh about minor fights;

  minor setbacks along the way.

  However,

  our duty

  is to blow up the world;

  to create timeless moments

  like explosions underneath the surface

  of all we cannot perceive.

  ###

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