The Lions and the Lambs (Journal Entry)

There’s a knot in my gut the size of my fist. I try to ignore it but it cries out like a mother bird in distress. Much like the premonitions that warned me against the crooked path I doomed myself to take. Seems the hell I’ve known is mercy compared to the hell that is to come.

The whole world is a human centipede. Battered sheep yearning for deliverance from their cold-hearted shepherd. I often wonder what mindblowing epiphany will compel the sheep to shed their wool and become lions treading through the fields of rebellion. It’s not enough for the sheep to know their shepherd is up to no good. They need to want to flee from his care. Herein lie the wall that won’t crack…

The Landfill (Poem)

If I’m a piece of trash
Then you’re the landfill in which I reside
Festering in the stench of all the bones you hide

No telling one hole or one mess from another
No way to assess the distress
So why bother?

Throw me out and watch me rot
Rape my soul for all I’ve got

Level my plot and bury me under
Masquerade for all your blunder

Pay the toll
Forget the cost
Pass the blame for all we lost

A piece of trash is minuscule
Compared to all the filth in you