Leaks

I have cried infinite times
Tears rolling down my cheeks
Tried stitching together rhymes
Hoping to fix the leaks.

Smashed my head on the wall
Making a void in the bricks
Again tried to cement it all
Hoping to fix the leaks.

Is my mind playing games?
Because I’ve been hallucinating for weeks
I’ve been wanting to catch a train
Hoping to fix the leaks.

Maybe I am an idiot
Who doesn’t know what he seeks
Maybe I fear to admit it
But never really tried to fix the leaks.

Apocalypse

Full of dusty, barren lands
Monuments and sculptures, half buried beneath sand
Against our vindictive and greedy demands
Turned, has Nature’s hand

Lakes full of blood and bodies in heaps
Whole cities underwater, miles deep
Over land, it’s the vultures who gleam
God’s best nightmare and our worst dream

Mighty mountains and hills crumble to dust,
The Earth spews fire, melting and burning its crust
Thunder and lightning, full of desire and lust,
Nature’s hand is all prevailing and just

No one left to bury the dead
The face of the Earth, black and red
Even the wealthy and powerful bow their heads
It is time for what we all used to dread

The end has come.

For a New World

To seek the ideal world
All evil you must fight,
They won’t get it
But you know you’re right.

They need a Messiah
And that you shall become,
Jumping over hurdles,
You know this world is rotten;

Because you can see the future
You quest to change it,
To finish all the evil
With what certainly is a gift.

Everything was going perfect
But you freaking wanted more,
God of the new world
Rests in neither heaven, hell nor.

The Perfect Homicide

Bereft of footprints,
of Monsters and Men
Void of screams,
of movement within

Baffled,
No likelihood of loss or gain,
Much like Alfred Hitchcock’s
Strangers on a Train

No sight of a weapon,
Not a hair out of place
A murderer’s heaven,
An ever changing face

Laughter,
Etched on the face of the dead
No sign of injury,
Except a whack on the head

A viable alibi,
The possibilities are endless
A witness shy,
The other, knocked senseless

Not a single clue,
Or a resounding cry
Not a single lead,
The Perfect Homicide.