Oblivion

When I was
a child,
I used to dread
the thought of death,

not because I
would be alive no longer,
but because it meant
that I would forget.

Now, two decades
and
a million missteps later,
I cannot at times help but think

that to be able to forget
not only a life’s pain
but also all its joy and love
might just be the kindest thing.

Advertisements

Of Freedom and Peace

The scorching sun
continues
to rise,
shine,
set.
As if
trying to remind men
of some
twisted
sad
irretrievable past.

But,
the men
have long gone,
in search of wine and shade.
And they’ve found a place
of some song
and some
trade.

And now
all surround
the goose made of gold,
while eggs of gold are bought
and eggs of gold
are sold.

While in a dusty corner,
the hungry caged bird
finally ceases
to sing
even though her
once captivated audience
has long stopped
listening.

For
even the
blinded fools
need something
to gape and gawk at
And her dark, unruly
blood-red mane of hair
tumbles freely around her frame
in a slow caress so seemingly warm
that the entire slowly-turning room
that she has quietly wandered into
suddenly seems to be made of
falling snow and frozen ice
and the coldest things
that have ever been
known to man since
the first ever
storm.

Meanwhile
someone has stolen
the great golden goose,
plucked up from right under their noses
And the
naive princess of sin
knowing not what begins,
instead spends all her time chasing roses.

Every day has its price,
every truth drowns in lies
Every rock pales to naught, besides dark Obsidian
Every memory has its ties
Every last man shall die
But, I think peace can only be found in true Oblivion.