The guy from yesterday

He's bold like the rebel from the 70s,

He's all prim and proper within,

He dazzles when the world's the audience,

He moves like original sin.

His words are enamel-coated,

Not a syllable out of place,

There isn't a style he can't pull off,

Not a situation he can't ace

All the pretty things line up

Each time he does his thing,

With the menacing grace of a Mustang,

He gets his way without the bling

He's passion brewed with self-confidence,

And just a hint of smooth,

He's every good thing from the past,

With a tiny sliver of rude

He'll make you go weak in the knees,

He'll always have his way,

He couldn't be more perfect if he tried,

My guy from yesterday.

The day that hope died

The earth's a barren wasteland,
The rivers have now run dry,
Creatures of every concievable sin,
Roam the scarlet sky,
The little drops of yellow rain,
The tiny old woman cried,
Scorned the worn out souls of good,
The day that hope died.

The cruel jabs of fortitude,
Attack the lights of now,
The evil laugh of destruction,
Are the sweat in the workman's brow,
The putrid smells of silence,
When the last honest man lied,
The world we knew just melt away,
The day that hope died...

Addicted

[ Was wondering what it would be like to delve into the mind of an addict. It is way easier than I had ever anticipated. After all, aren't we all addicted to something, someone perhaps?]

Restless, shifty eyed, unstable, unsteady

Move over world, i think I am ready

The clock chimes 12 no sleep yet

There's sweat on my forehead, clothes dripping wet

Joyous thoughts of a pleasant feel

Runs through my mind like a movie reel

Longing transcends every other emotion

My body craves for that familiar elation


The mind forewarns of trials unknown

Of regrets, of fears, of being alone

And yet the soul reaches out

And tries its best to wipe all doubt


Deviated intentions and intense desire

To escape life's hellish fire

Led me to a quiet solace

It takes me to a different place


I give in to the devil's charm

Pull it close, much to sanity's alarm

One brief moment does pass by

And the next I start to fly...