Tagged: anger

Stockholm Mask

I know I still have not posted anything about my trip to Kilimanjaro. I have been… not really in the right frame of mind.

I did write a song though, so you can have that instead.

And the lyrics if you’re interested:

Lost sight of everyone
Memories as ghostly as the fog
I’ve no choice but to run and hide
Haunted day and night by this black dog

Unwilling fugitive
Dredging up resistance from my core
Switch, cover up to give a false
Impression of me forevermore

Crushed under the weight of a thousand fucking lies
this Stockholm syndrome Existence
Dug my own grave and lined it well with broken promises
But I refuse to die.

Still alive, still functioning
Burning all the bridges that I cross
Won’t stop though everything is gone
When you feel nothing all you feel no loss

A thousand lies a thousand deaths a thousand fucking more
A thousand shattered slivers of life
Manifest in me, distorted mockery of self, but hear me
I WILL NOT STOP NOW
Dug my own grave and lined it well with broken promises
But I refuse to die.

One hundred and sixty

An audible crash, then,
As another shattered promise
Fragments into oblivion.
Lost count of the shards,
Of the slivers, of the splinters
Which I desperately try to reassemble,
To make good on this pact,
But I keep
Fucking it up.

Every time it’s the same,
And every time, to my shame
I am forced to take the blame
For this lack of control.
Like a drug response in my brain,
Needles, worms in my veins
as I desperately try to train
my thoughts to see the best in each situation
But it’s
Fucking hopeless.

It’s still there; no escape
From this perpetual mockery of
Self determination,
No release from this hell of my own making,
And seemingly no way to break
The endless cycle of
Shatter
Repair
Shatter
Repair
Shatter
Repair this broken body,
Shatter this mirror which shows the
Worthless sack of shit
Responsible for every damn achievement
I ever faked,
For every lie I tried to believe,
Every promise I promised to fix.

One hundred and sixty.
One hundred and sixty.
One hundred and sixty.

ONE
HUNDRED
AND
SIXTY

I will never be worth that.

That’s the O’Brien in you…

A shade darker now, this earthly light
Where once rang out the sounds of support.
No more;
A shade colder too, without your smile
Which charmed the hearts of so many.
All gone.

I rage at the injustice,
At the cruelness of a God
Who would see fit to remove the star
Which outshone Sirius,
To destroy the oasis of hope
In a desert of life-long despair.

But then I hear your voice:
“Oh lover, don’t be so ruddy stupid.”
And just like always,
The anger dissipates, replaced with insight;
And I know that wherever you are,
You’re making damn sure everyone behaves.

Even Him.

New Year

Fingers trace lines on near-forgotten face;
Who are you? Were you ever anyone else?
Plumb depths of knowledge forbidden,
Rising up through layers of lies,
Drawn out by the memory of what once was;
Of what will be again.
Desperate cries fall, but deaf ears hear nought.

Fingers trace scars on arms punished
For a thousand perceived transgressions,
Still memories refuse to bleed out
From layers of never-healed wounds
Held in by the knowledge of what once was;
Of what will be again.
Cries become screams, still deaf ears hear nought.

You made your bed, old man.
Now lie in it
Lie in it as you lied throughout your life;
Deception breeds hatred breeds anger breeds shame.
Lie in it then, closed eyes but no sleep,
For the wicked deserve none.
And your atonement shall last an eternity.

100,000 wasted lives

Force fed lies,
Brainwashed children;
Mobilising silent armies.
Fill the void
With slick deception;
Shut their minds and damn their souls.

Claim your holy book is nothing but the truth
You're slowly sewing shut their eyes,
And if they question you, you'll punish them for peeling
Back the layers of your lies

Indoctrinate them so they'll
Never question you and
You can carry on controlling
Generations,
Building up your armies,
Gathering your strength
And lying to the fucking world.

They've built temples founded on broken faith.
Rise, fight them, blinded by years of hate.
Stand, reclaim what was taken from you.
Eyes open, all they said was untrue.

Cut through their lies,
Open your eyes, find the truth.
Smash the temples,
Cast them down with the proof.

Moulded firm,
Grown up ignorant;
The youth in turn replace the generals.
Circles closed,
Torches passed on;
Hundred thousand wasted lives.

Closed your mind for so long lies become the truth,
Why can nobody see your proof?
Scientists are all wrong! Why would preachers lie
About the book that holds the truth?

Wake up, shut your book
Of fucking lies and find the
Answers to the questions
For so long denied.
There's no conspiracy,
There's no satanic plan,
So smash the circle break out now.

They've built temples founded on broken faith.
Rise, fight them, blinded by years of hate.
Stand, reclaim what was taken from you.
Eyes open, all they said was untrue.

Cut through their lies,
Open your eyes, find the truth.
Smash the temples,
Cast them down with the proof.

That Fortress in Ruins

That fortress in ruins

That fortress in ruins stood once tall and proud,
Its huge gates flung open to welcome a crowd
Which never arrived. But the baron inside
Still waited the rest of the day.

The gates had been opened when news of the throng
(Which gathered in joy at the next fort along)
Arrived in the morning – a reasonable warning –
So where were the visitors now?

The morning went by, then the day, then the night.
The days stretched to weeks, and there still was no sight
Of any of those whom the baron supposed
Would care to share in his riches.

His smile long since faded, his expression grim,
The baron decided to let no-one in.
The gates were then slammed; “The people be damned!”
And the fortress was slowly forgotten.

But many years later a traveller saw
The fort from the roadside, and chose to explore.
“I’m in need of a bed,” the traveller said,
And the doors very slowly cracked open.

For seven long years she was gaining his trust,
For three of those years they both sated their lust
Which slowly would grow into love, and he’d show
Her the treasure he guarded so fiercely.

The treasure shone golden and glinted with red,
Pulsating so softly; the baron had said
That it was alive – it glowed from inside
And the traveller smiled as she held it.

But one day in turmoil the baron awoke
His fortress on fire, the room filled with smoke.
His treasure was smashed, and he realised at last
That the traveller girl had betrayed him.

Alone in the flames of his once-mighty home,
The baron stood tall and let rage, for years honed,
Manifest in a cry which could tear down the sky,
And he let the once proud fortress burn.

What’s left of the fortress still stands on the hill,
The treasure sits rotting; charred, black and still.
But the baron remains, alone with his pain,
Face bitter, resentful and cold.