Tyrannical Overseer

Earth shivers and the fire burns,

Fear cripples and envelopes all,

A flame of rage and insanity roars,

Incensed by the flame that burns.

A drunken God's whim upon us,

An unacceptable grip to use us,

By one who believes not in Man,

But believe in the hollow prayer.

"say the words and find salvation"

That's what the men of god believe,

The life of our soul which is within,

Hinges on the utterance for favour.

The soul resides within our flesh,

Deep within but also around us,

Embodying our minds and lives,

Navigated by our own free will.

A world unwilling to open a belief,

Deafening the utterance of others,

Under the hypnotic prayer for God,

To court favour for a chance eternal.

The feeble minded people scramble,

In the name of he who left Earth an age ago,

The weak willed humans do flock towards,

Any false prophet claiming their salvation.

Purge the plague and burn away,

The flame of rage inspired by truth,

Burns the lies which confine the mind,

Ashes bear the key to open what is closed.

Enough

The words I speak,
Remain incomplete,
For you may believe,
You've heard enough.

But know this as ancient truth,
Though my words might stop,
They are far from what's within,
For I know you think that's enough.

I stop my speech and my words,
You won't understand meaning,
For the visions behind my eyes,
Show me what you can't imagine.

I shall say the words that remain,
Once a mind of equal surfaces,
One with a path as obliterated,
As the one before me is brimming.

You've probably heard enough,
Meek minded mortals say that,
You believe that's enough said,
But child, I've only just begun.

Impaired

The world keeps spinning,
I  need rest more than all,
The world spinning so fast,
My mind is dizzy from it all.

The spinning doesn't stop,
The dizziness never ceases,
The control lost an age ago,
Spinning in free fall is my soul.

Stop the spinning and turn,
Turn back the course taken,
Bring me back the lost days,
Or offer me my redemption.

Those days spun away so fast,
How can a life hold such cruelty?
To bleed away my soul everyday,
To chip away my being everyday.

I swear to all I have no anger,
All that exists within my mind,
All that exists within my soul,
A shadow, deaf, dumb, blind.

A crippled monstrosity hidden,
Behind a million smiling masks,
The cry of a spirit that has broken,
Unheard under the veil of laughter.

The world is still spinning so fast,
My soul punished for an unknown,
My blinded spirit can see no path,
The cut tongue can't cry for help.

What choice remains with me?
Other than to wander the dark,
And hope the rotations give me,
The chance to release my curse.

Deaf, dumb and blind I wander,
Till I hear the Angel call my name,
Till the Angel can hear my words,
Till the day I can look into her eyes.

Asylum

The house stands a monument,

A testament to the one resident,

Within the house he lost his mind,

And the house left madness behind.

Within the darkness of the mansion,

The chambers each hold a fatal illusion,

Enter the room and the dark in its hold,

Each room a different story to be told.

For the mind that this house hath stolen,

A piece of it, in every chamber is hidden,

His mindless spirit has roamed for years,

For his mind is lost and poisoned by fears.

Enter not the chambers of this darkness,

For the sights within masters of madness,

They tell a tale of beauty and promise,

And infect the mind with terrible illness.

One such story a room ventures to tell,

One that sends the soul into deep hell,

A story that cripples the hearts of all,

For the story does not merely echo the hall.

The illusion grips the mortal in the dark,

Far far away from any saviour's spark,

The pain within the story shall hypnotize,

As you see through the mindless one's eyes.

The anguish shall be that of he who roams,

The mortal mind writhes in unholy groans,

Unable to see that which is the truth,

Such monstrous spells are most uncouth.

The house holds a million false illusions,

But there lies one truth within the mansion,

The master's bedroom, it shall forever stay,

The darkness which no prayer can hope to slay.

In the master's bedroom be it dark or day,

The one truth that shall forever stay,

The lifeless corpse of the mindless one,

A broken ceiling and a throat long strung.