13/07/10 - 18 Years Old
Lost At Sea

At the beginning, I had never listened to those who submitted to hopes,
I preferred to live in the know, keeping it simple, I would drift in the flow,
Living out a prophesy, I have suspicions that life has forgotten me,
Sinking down, the waters deep, another sole becoming lost at sea,
My life has succumbed to slaughter, forgetting that you are a son or daughter.
If only there was footholds under water, but from my vision, there’s none on offer,
You once stood on the dock but the problem was, you never saw the drop,
Now consumed by the water’s talks, both in the ocean and on the rocks
You wish to redo the mess but at this point, it’s too late to rescue the dead,
It’s certain, just don’t lose your head at the signs of the storm, which brews ahead,
Now at least, I understand what the problems are bound to be,
I hit the ground asleep, knowing my own choice is what’s drowning me,
My goals never stepped in sight, never birthing a child, or seen my wedding night,
Now I take my last breaths of life, for now, I’m still breathing, but I’m dead inside,
Last thoughts before my relapse are like “I repent, and hope, to see the after life”,
Under the pressure, I collapse inside, only to feel arms that grasp me tight,
I push my head from below, feeling a desperate breath in my throat,
The repent I had shown, has me pulled to safety, my belief strengthens the rope,
I had, survived and, realise that it was due to the belief, that I had,
And now that I’ve realised that, I can dream to set foot on dry land,
I was lifted then, thrown on the ground, as I still submit to death,
Taken back as my lips were met, CRP given, so I could live again,
I thought my path would aim to hell, as my life was a mere case and shell,
I asked a name, and my saviour said “I am your faith….you just saved yourself”.




14/07/10 - 18 Years Old
Releasing The Clutch

I won't validate the existence of my visions, as I'm afraid,
Each floor rises age and each step, another accolade,
The lighting, the blue shades are borrowed to portray my sorrow,
I fear what awaits tomorrow as this woman tries to make me follow,
Below in the shadows, she's feasted in as beneath she slips,
I'm deceased within, clutching the banister, tempted to release the grip,
Temptation grew around and I need my morals to secure me now,
Damaged, until a cure is found this demon below is trying to lure me down,
She enters the dark, now engulfed, yet his silhouette isn't far,
My choice remains, rips my head into parts, she descends with my heart,
I'm trying to focus a blur, my head or my heart, I've broken the trust,
Go with my sense, or go with the love, should I sin in a moment of lust,
I doubt that I can't release the problem until she's forgotten,
Is this feeling common? I know that I'm gone forever, if I reach the bottom,
I wish to part with this love, let it fly away like my heart was a dove,
I look how far I have come, climbed all steps, to find only darkness above.


08/09/10 - 18 Years Old
Beauty Is In The Eyes...

Bodies are safes, in which we are not needing the key,
As when you look at the eyes closely, locked feelings are freed,
I know that you’re afraid that I’ll hide away and make a wink of you,
But whether I’m behind the lid or not, I’ll be next to you,
We seem identical, such a partner couldn’t be harder to find,
And with you gone, you’d be scarring my site; I’d be partially blind,
Together, our purpose keeps us, a part of each person’s features,
Inside our eyes there lies a pupil, the world a teacher,
And we can learn together, perhaps behind sunglasses, a clever disguise,
Sharing charismatic colours which consistently spill from the skies,
Behind us, unintentionally, we repeatedly redo what’s undone,
But when we open up together, it feels as two become one,
Sometimes you’re cross with me, and that appearance erupts talkers,
But if I am unable to hear it, we both become much stronger,
In relation to our goals, we both become bigger when focusing in,
Because of you, I’m reluctantly pouring out the emotion within,
The lids under our instruction, you make it caress me and give me a cuddle,
My greatest comfort; you were withstanding it with me to witness the struggle,
This put aside; you share my self-sabotaging natures so when we look at lights;
Both pained, it saturates and forces us to avert our gaze…when the futures bright.



06/09/10 - 18 Years Old
Light Of My Life

A beauty contained, for her imminent escape; she holds her breath,
In awe of her captivating glow, wrapped behind her golden dress,
She is a vision to me, without her; I am blind and strayed,
She turns night to day, her ominous shine helps me find my way,
However, I consider the damage, and proceed nervously,
Allegedly, her sole purpose is to drain me of my energy,
Yet her beams enslave me, I'm implored to gaze,
My predicament; the more I look, the more I'm pained,
This is as when she's bringing her wonder, she's bringing the hurt,
And every time we touch, only I will witness the burn,
I conclude as in my peripheral, she's shining so bright,
Unknowing to her position; the light of my life.


10/09/10 - 18 Years Old
The Thane of Atheism

Macbeth, such striking nobility noted by whom he has butchered,
Yet his level of innocence indicated when the witches foresee his future,
Regarding his ruler, Duncan, their words limit his days on the earth,
Macbeth will dethrone the man his life has been donated to serve,
Throughout the air, Banquo’s suspicions arise; he is now aware,
Yet Macbeth is intrigued, the situation solicits the theory; ‘foul but fair’,
Lady Macbeth, the cerebral serpent, then will promise her man,
The wildest riches, held in place as long as the prophecy stands,
Banquo, the king’s noble soldier, refusing to disobey his orders,
Senses the witch’s manipulation on the Thane of Cawdor will create dishonour,
The witch’s plague, leaves Banquo’s dreaming hot and restless,
So he warns Macbeth of ‘betrayal’s deepest consequences’,
Disregarding that, Macbeth proceeds with moral amnesty,
Figuring out how he can reside in the castle, without the king’s hospitality.

Now, standing above the unexpecting body, Macbeth contemplates the demise,
Duncan awakes to arise, eyes startled and filled with vacant surprise,
Duncan; a very capable leader as his army grew, a martyr too,
Macbeth plunges down on the dagger, which splits his heart in two.

The witches; the subliminal messaging which the media’s hiding,
Banquo; a concerning priest, merley preaching his guidance,
Lady Macbeth; offers temptations as evil as the demons inside her,
Duncan; our lord almighty, accepts the betrayal with the deepest of kindness,
Macbeth; a tyrant who allowed corruption to climb into his head,
Finds himself unfulfilled and troubled…with no king to respect.


20/09/10 - 18 Years Old
War

Enemy aircraft flew swift and neat beneath out feet,
A sudden fight, not enough seconds to at least retreat,
Surrounded by scraps of bricks, metal and office supplies,
Seemingly a flat plain of rubble which was brought to the skies,
Journals of pain, entries examined read as inscriptions of evil,
An army disbanded, a lonely war of solitude and individual people,
Each lay looking at fellow soldiers engulfed by flames, countless devoured,
Praying to god, yet hope fell below and went down with the towers.



21/09/10 - 18 Years Old
The Gates of Hell

Not one contained by benevolent mannerisms,
So what’s hell to believers of belittling masochism?
Searching seas of flames but not receiving answers,
The scorch on my skin just conceives nostalgia,
My heart once a delicate organ as the petals on orchids,
Now I forget parental prophecies as fidelities orphan,
As sodomy of my beliefs is a shadow that follows me,
I’ve endured the attacks through the bible’s mockery,
Jesus’ parents able to obtain a stable with a manger cradle,
Happy families breathe through Adam and Eve, Cain and Able,
As I stand sole to witness the resurrection of gates,
A prisoner of societies judgement, my sentence awaits,
These gates, their presence a symbol in which people prioritised,
But beyond their structure, lies pure evil personified,
Anticipate my arrival, predict my pain, sit patiently,
Delusional notions that my captor relates with me,
Behind this flimsy structure, I sense a presence that’s vile,
Imagination foresees the greet with the most deceptive of smiles,
Sorrowed departures to me, are books to their author,
So I laugh when higher powers tempt me with lucrative offers,
I’ve felt similar situations, so this time I’m refusing to bother
Behind misleading grins, lies a land of abusing and torture,
Every past acceptance, increased my knowledge in size,
So receipting my history now reveals tomorrow’s surprise,
It won’t be just a physical anguish, my mind is the target as well,
Thinking as I find myself lingering before the garden of hell,
Demons emerge from inside, it seems that they lost their patience,
The demonic voice shudders "Hello, We’re your foster parents".



29/09/10 - 18 Years Old
The Guilt of Murder

I find a deserted warehouse, which I wonder if anyone owned,
Ideally, it’s dark and cold inside which is reflecting my soul,
This place for years has been neglected from eyesight,
No lights although anger provides red sepia highlights,
I begin brewing my hatred, I take place and focus my medium,
The devil’s instruments read as my potion’s ingredients,
I add pain and emotion, the more so; the harder it hits,
And reveal some burning revenge to garnish the dish,
After I’m finished, I look for a sound but there isn’t any at all,
Which leaves me unsuspecting but drawn to a deadly assault,
A beastly creation, one in which I’m not ready to slay,
It surrounds me; I’m consumed and caressed by its flames,
The monster is mine, it’s like I’m killing myself,
There’s no escaping the demon, this abandoned building Is hell,
Now, both of us gone, the logic is still uncovered,
I was defeated and vanquished, by the guilt of murder.


04/10/10 - 18 Years Old
The Happy Pill

Detective Thomas Miller
Unknown

A letter left behind, written upon the paper is; a tale by a frustrated kid,
He speaks of pills navigating him to a happy place within,
I think he meant to say how his mental strains just went away,
A stressful weight that compressed his brain, reading on, I comprehend his state;

"I can’t be keeping this up, the confusion alone surely, is reason enough,
Eating the drugs until all emotions and feelings are numbed,
My personal goal is to avoid the flashing of emergency lights,
The home these pills will take me is better than mines, superb and divine,
The path they portray is straight, no crossroads with a right and left,
My destination shown by the lights ahead, dispossessing life and death,
In the regular world, death’s a prize, and eventually all contestants die,
But in the land of surreal, I’m undetected by judgmental eyes,
My parents gambled upon the fruits of life, whether to be ripe or rotten,
It seems that life’s forgotten; that a problem child is a child with problems..."

It seems as thought this letter is what’s encrypted inside of me,
I relate to it, and it reads off as though it’s predicting my diary,
I feel as though I’m looking into a beast, cold as the home where an Inuit sleeps,
Someone gritting their teeth, so I realign my eyes and continue to read;

"Now I stare at my hand, I seek for pleasure but fear the measure,
And scan my surroundings, but see no peers for pressure,
They must hide in my vision, In life I’ve gave up on finding my mission,
I correct my sight with precision, my hand filled with tiny decisions,
Imagine a deadly darkness, that is consuming all of you,
Cold feet, don’t worry, soon you will be joined and removed from solitude,
*Gulp*
I never took these for a psychedelic effect or for medical health,
Actually, I’m starting to think over what my chemist had said;
“We all will be entering death, eventually yes,
But do you really want to jump ahead of the sched…”
I ran out, and now as these pills are slowly taking their course,
I conclude as nothing more than a saddened slave of remorse…"

The press already released the report on the regionals,
Of how the cold air was seemingly justifying the shaken cleaner’s chills,
When she found him, he reflected a purple complexion and he was still,
Laying down lifelessly, next to an empty bottle of sleeping pills.


09/10/10 - 18 Years Old
Illusions of Consciousness

Suppressed by a darkening circle of sight, which tries to follow me,
Damaged by detrimental drowses, slowly I arise unconsciously,
My visions a verbiage, a vindictive veneer, removing the honest truth,
Thinking ‘Who am I talking to? Unceremoniously secluded in solitude,
Surrounded by screens, my stressed psyche surpassing amazed,
Do I imagine this place? The blinding glare extracts the escape,
Earth’s televisions, Used like hanging flags as a symbol of merits,
Each depicting its pennants, I conclude; the picture is pleasant,
Suddenly, a sinister sepia spills in, stealthily stealing the centre,
An opened door develops, it’s contents appearing as embers,
I’m intriguing by this palace, made of mysterious magic,
Although fearing its malice, I must be leaving this madness,
Still perplexed by the paradise, I proceed with caution,
Through the door, I keep on walking until it’s near forgotten,
Hardly harmless, it feels like a barracks, the army heartless,
Assertively, the redness abruptly dilutes into alarming darkness,
Everything suddenly glows, my eyes pained like nothing I know,
The beam blinds badly, but lifts to broadcast my brother below,
Awaken to a voice, which to this day is still tattooed on me;
"I’m arresting you for suspicious of murder….Andrew Conley"


17/10/10 - 18 Years Old
Shrooms

Me and my girlfriend Veronica, I’m very much in love with her,
We went out on a trip, going on the mushroom hunt,
Our aim and goal, was to eventually be tripping and all,
Then we found it, a large mushroom with a black nipple on top,
I don’t care to boil with tea; I just want it into me…
. . .
Astonishingly, I assume the accolades of aborigines,
Woefully, I wonder into the wild excitedly,
Childlike, I crave inside to start climbing trees,
I imagine I fly high and my weight is nothing,
The tree holding me back, a branch escapes its clutches,
Looking up, I gaze as the moonlight dilutes to dark,
The stick as my wand, I manually move the stars,
I point it high, holding on with sturdy hands,
As I remember my counterpart, I return to camp,
Inside, I see rainbows of colour, dripping like sinks,
Afraid and fearing, I start swinging the stick,
As it collides, I hear it shatter and kill,
Many shades of red begin to splatter and spill,
The cracks and crunches echo in my ear,
Until the haze disperses and disappears.
. . .
My head fixed back on my shoulders, on top of my back,
Tightly, I feel that my hand is clenching, a log in my grasp,
I stand shocked and disturbed, I’m now awfully sorry,
Shadowing over the bloody mess of Veronica’s body.


24/01/11 - 18 Years Old
Delusions of Grandeur

Face to face, I want to smash your jaw and step on the shards,
I stand in antagonising agony, staring through my nemesis' guard,
You're possessing a heart for hatred, any retribution removed,
Convinced that your convictions are crimeless, your delusions delude,
An alcoholic, rapist and murderer, nothing more than a twisted cancer,
You fuel my adrenaline, assisting a raw animalistic anger,
Attention starved, but here you are less than famished,
Your problem protects you, hiding behind all that mental anguish,
You refuse to reveal the reality, each of your creations are callous,
I tried, but when I extended my hand, you were unable to grab it,
You don't even detest the defamation, no regrets displayed,
Yet I am carelessly caressed and condemned with blame?
The people who persecute, have seemingly sought to target me,
Yet when the sun spreads in the sky, it is you who is hard to see,
You are rancid and ruthless, while my benevolence limits me,
Together as one, housed under very definitive differences,
You make it as miniscule, but matters have your mind diminished,
Staring at you, I see the sickest of sepias, you are vile and vicious,
You reflect upon me, the pains and problems of a medical patient,
Your eyes; a story of evil, each fiendish word phonetically stated,
I can't bare it, I am enraged by these impatient matters,
I attack relentlessly, no stop until your face is shattered,
Victorious? I now lay a victim, encapsulated in this madness forever,
Cowering, I crouch in the corner, looking at the cracks in the mirror.


30/01/11 - 18 Years Old
The Greenhouse Effect

I stare as it's wonder is warning the cynics, colours spill into each other, no boarder envisioned,
A rainbow ruined, warping it's finish, damaged dramatically, distorted and twisted,
I pray that the spectrum is the height of the havoc, but my experience expects the sign of a savage,
No moment manifests defining the madness, each scattered star; capable to brighten the planet,
All is quiet, no shouting or screaming, seemingly no sinister scenes, scoundrels or cheaters,
A place of mystery, surrounded by reason, stars flicker like flames, how are they breathing?
Are we different? I'm afraid it's alarming, that the distance is all that creates this greatest of margins,
Hatred is heartless, so wrongfully, there might be a reason, for the display of the darkness,
My land? An endangered defeatist place, a neglected and negative obsolete disgrace,
This vast vision bedazzles, I seek it's fate, and the eternal existence of a peaceful race,
Imagining unity, it's a delicate dream, but out there it's not ridiculous, I believe that anything's real,
Perhaps nobody will be left on the street and all can salivate at the sights, settings and scenes,
Peace is a parent, we grew as an orphan, and I check back at colours and see why the look is distorted,
Every movement is morbid, and eventually it might move and become vacuumed in a vortex,
So, am I delusional in hoping it won't have grown from it's birth? No havens of hatred or oceans of hurt,
I just scratched the surface, made a hole in the dirt, graciously gazing at a globe or the earth.

13/07/10 - 18 Years Old
Lost At Sea

At the beginning, I had never listened to those who submitted to hopes,
I preferred to live in the know, keeping it simple, I would drift in the flow,
Living out a prophesy, I have suspicions that life has forgotten me,
Sinking down, the waters deep, another sole becoming lost at sea,
My life has succumbed to slaughter, forgetting that you are a son or daughter.
If only there was footholds under water, but from my vision, there’s none on offer,
You once stood on the dock but the problem was, you never saw the drop,
Now consumed by the water’s talks, both in the ocean and on the rocks
You wish to redo the mess but at this point, it’s too late to rescue the dead,
It’s certain, just don’t lose your head at the signs of the storm, which brews ahead,
Now at least, I understand what the problems are bound to be,
I hit the ground asleep, knowing my own choice is what’s drowning me,
My goals never stepped in sight, never birthing a child, or seen my wedding night,
Now I take my last breaths of life, for now, I’m still breathing, but I’m dead inside,
Last thoughts before my relapse are like “I repent, and hope, to see the after life”,
Under the pressure, I collapse inside, only to feel arms that grasp me tight,
I push my head from below, feeling a desperate breath in my throat,
The repent I had shown, has me pulled to safety, my belief strengthens the rope,
I had, survived and, realise that it was due to the belief, that I had,
And now that I’ve realised that, I can dream to set foot on dry land,
I was lifted then, thrown on the ground, as I still submit to death,
Taken back as my lips were met, CRP given, so I could live again,
I thought my path would aim to hell, as my life was a mere case and shell,
I asked a name, and my saviour said “I am your faith….you just saved yourself”.




14/07/10 - 18 Years Old
Releasing The Clutch

I won't validate the existence of my visions, as I'm afraid,
Each floor rises age and each step, another accolade,
The lighting, the blue shades are borrowed to portray my sorrow,
I fear what awaits tomorrow as this woman tries to make me follow,
Below in the shadows, she's feasted in as beneath she slips,
I'm deceased within, clutching the banister, tempted to release the grip,
Temptation grew around and I need my morals to secure me now,
Damaged, until a cure is found this demon below is trying to lure me down,
She enters the dark, now engulfed, yet his silhouette isn't far,
My choice remains, rips my head into parts, she descends with my heart,
I'm trying to focus a blur, my head or my heart, I've broken the trust,
Go with my sense, or go with the love, should I sin in a moment of lust,
I doubt that I can't release the problem until she's forgotten,
Is this feeling common? I know that I'm gone forever, if I reach the bottom,
I wish to part with this love, let it fly away like my heart was a dove,
I look how far I have come, climbed all steps, to find only darkness above.


08/09/10 - 18 Years Old
Beauty Is In The Eyes...

Bodies are safes, in which we are not needing the key,
As when you look at the eyes closely, locked feelings are freed,
I know that you’re afraid that I’ll hide away and make a wink of you,
But whether I’m behind the lid or not, I’ll be next to you,
We seem identical, such a partner couldn’t be harder to find,
And with you gone, you’d be scarring my site; I’d be partially blind,
Together, our purpose keeps us, a part of each person’s features,
Inside our eyes there lies a pupil, the world a teacher,
And we can learn together, perhaps behind sunglasses, a clever disguise,
Sharing charismatic colours which consistently spill from the skies,
Behind us, unintentionally, we repeatedly redo what’s undone,
But when we open up together, it feels as two become one,
Sometimes you’re cross with me, and that appearance erupts talkers,
But if I am unable to hear it, we both become much stronger,
In relation to our goals, we both become bigger when focusing in,
Because of you, I’m reluctantly pouring out the emotion within,
The lids under our instruction, you make it caress me and give me a cuddle,
My greatest comfort; you were withstanding it with me to witness the struggle,
This put aside; you share my self-sabotaging natures so when we look at lights;
Both pained, it saturates and forces us to avert our gaze…when the futures bright.



06/09/10 - 18 Years Old
Light Of My Life

A beauty contained, for her imminent escape; she holds her breath,
In awe of her captivating glow, wrapped behind her golden dress,
She is a vision to me, without her; I am blind and strayed,
She turns night to day, her ominous shine helps me find my way,
However, I consider the damage, and proceed nervously,
Allegedly, her sole purpose is to drain me of my energy,
Yet her beams enslave me, I'm implored to gaze,
My predicament; the more I look, the more I'm pained,
This is as when she's bringing her wonder, she's bringing the hurt,
And every time we touch, only I will witness the burn,
I conclude as in my peripheral, she's shining so bright,
Unknowing to her position; the light of my life.


10/09/10 - 18 Years Old
The Thane of Atheism

Macbeth, such striking nobility noted by whom he has butchered,
Yet his level of innocence indicated when the witches foresee his future,
Regarding his ruler, Duncan, their words limit his days on the earth,
Macbeth will dethrone the man his life has been donated to serve,
Throughout the air, Banquo’s suspicions arise; he is now aware,
Yet Macbeth is intrigued, the situation solicits the theory; ‘foul but fair’,
Lady Macbeth, the cerebral serpent, then will promise her man,
The wildest riches, held in place as long as the prophecy stands,
Banquo, the king’s noble soldier, refusing to disobey his orders,
Senses the witch’s manipulation on the Thane of Cawdor will create dishonour,
The witch’s plague, leaves Banquo’s dreaming hot and restless,
So he warns Macbeth of ‘betrayal’s deepest consequences’,
Disregarding that, Macbeth proceeds with moral amnesty,
Figuring out how he can reside in the castle, without the king’s hospitality.

Now, standing above the unexpecting body, Macbeth contemplates the demise,
Duncan awakes to arise, eyes startled and filled with vacant surprise,
Duncan; a very capable leader as his army grew, a martyr too,
Macbeth plunges down on the dagger, which splits his heart in two.

The witches; the subliminal messaging which the media’s hiding,
Banquo; a concerning priest, merley preaching his guidance,
Lady Macbeth; offers temptations as evil as the demons inside her,
Duncan; our lord almighty, accepts the betrayal with the deepest of kindness,
Macbeth; a tyrant who allowed corruption to climb into his head,
Finds himself unfulfilled and troubled…with no king to respect.


20/09/10 - 18 Years Old
War

Enemy aircraft flew swift and neat beneath out feet,
A sudden fight, not enough seconds to at least retreat,
Surrounded by scraps of bricks, metal and office supplies,
Seemingly a flat plain of rubble which was brought to the skies,
Journals of pain, entries examined read as inscriptions of evil,
An army disbanded, a lonely war of solitude and individual people,
Each lay looking at fellow soldiers engulfed by flames, countless devoured,
Praying to god, yet hope fell below and went down with the towers.



21/09/10 - 18 Years Old
The Gates of Hell

Not one contained by benevolent mannerisms,
So what’s hell to believers of belittling masochism?
Searching seas of flames but not receiving answers,
The scorch on my skin just conceives nostalgia,
My heart once a delicate organ as the petals on orchids,
Now I forget parental prophecies as fidelities orphan,
As sodomy of my beliefs is a shadow that follows me,
I’ve endured the attacks through the bible’s mockery,
Jesus’ parents able to obtain a stable with a manger cradle,
Happy families breathe through Adam and Eve, Cain and Able,
As I stand sole to witness the resurrection of gates,
A prisoner of societies judgement, my sentence awaits,
These gates, their presence a symbol in which people prioritised,
But beyond their structure, lies pure evil personified,
Anticipate my arrival, predict my pain, sit patiently,
Delusional notions that my captor relates with me,
Behind this flimsy structure, I sense a presence that’s vile,
Imagination foresees the greet with the most deceptive of smiles,
Sorrowed departures to me, are books to their author,
So I laugh when higher powers tempt me with lucrative offers,
I’ve felt similar situations, so this time I’m refusing to bother
Behind misleading grins, lies a land of abusing and torture,
Every past acceptance, increased my knowledge in size,
So receipting my history now reveals tomorrow’s surprise,
It won’t be just a physical anguish, my mind is the target as well,
Thinking as I find myself lingering before the garden of hell,
Demons emerge from inside, it seems that they lost their patience,
The demonic voice shudders "Hello, We’re your foster parents".



29/09/10 - 18 Years Old
The Guilt of Murder

I find a deserted warehouse, which I wonder if anyone owned,
Ideally, it’s dark and cold inside which is reflecting my soul,
This place for years has been neglected from eyesight,
No lights although anger provides red sepia highlights,
I begin brewing my hatred, I take place and focus my medium,
The devil’s instruments read as my potion’s ingredients,
I add pain and emotion, the more so; the harder it hits,
And reveal some burning revenge to garnish the dish,
After I’m finished, I look for a sound but there isn’t any at all,
Which leaves me unsuspecting but drawn to a deadly assault,
A beastly creation, one in which I’m not ready to slay,
It surrounds me; I’m consumed and caressed by its flames,
The monster is mine, it’s like I’m killing myself,
There’s no escaping the demon, this abandoned building Is hell,
Now, both of us gone, the logic is still uncovered,
I was defeated and vanquished, by the guilt of murder.


04/10/10 - 18 Years Old
The Happy Pill

Detective Thomas Miller
Unknown

A letter left behind, written upon the paper is; a tale by a frustrated kid,
He speaks of pills navigating him to a happy place within,
I think he meant to say how his mental strains just went away,
A stressful weight that compressed his brain, reading on, I comprehend his state;

"I can’t be keeping this up, the confusion alone surely, is reason enough,
Eating the drugs until all emotions and feelings are numbed,
My personal goal is to avoid the flashing of emergency lights,
The home these pills will take me is better than mines, superb and divine,
The path they portray is straight, no crossroads with a right and left,
My destination shown by the lights ahead, dispossessing life and death,
In the regular world, death’s a prize, and eventually all contestants die,
But in the land of surreal, I’m undetected by judgmental eyes,
My parents gambled upon the fruits of life, whether to be ripe or rotten,
It seems that life’s forgotten; that a problem child is a child with problems..."

It seems as thought this letter is what’s encrypted inside of me,
I relate to it, and it reads off as though it’s predicting my diary,
I feel as though I’m looking into a beast, cold as the home where an Inuit sleeps,
Someone gritting their teeth, so I realign my eyes and continue to read;

"Now I stare at my hand, I seek for pleasure but fear the measure,
And scan my surroundings, but see no peers for pressure,
They must hide in my vision, In life I’ve gave up on finding my mission,
I correct my sight with precision, my hand filled with tiny decisions,
Imagine a deadly darkness, that is consuming all of you,
Cold feet, don’t worry, soon you will be joined and removed from solitude,
*Gulp*
I never took these for a psychedelic effect or for medical health,
Actually, I’m starting to think over what my chemist had said;
“We all will be entering death, eventually yes,
But do you really want to jump ahead of the sched…”
I ran out, and now as these pills are slowly taking their course,
I conclude as nothing more than a saddened slave of remorse…"

The press already released the report on the regionals,
Of how the cold air was seemingly justifying the shaken cleaner’s chills,
When she found him, he reflected a purple complexion and he was still,
Laying down lifelessly, next to an empty bottle of sleeping pills.


09/10/10 - 18 Years Old
Illusions of Consciousness

Suppressed by a darkening circle of sight, which tries to follow me,
Damaged by detrimental drowses, slowly I arise unconsciously,
My visions a verbiage, a vindictive veneer, removing the honest truth,
Thinking ‘Who am I talking to? Unceremoniously secluded in solitude,
Surrounded by screens, my stressed psyche surpassing amazed,
Do I imagine this place? The blinding glare extracts the escape,
Earth’s televisions, Used like hanging flags as a symbol of merits,
Each depicting its pennants, I conclude; the picture is pleasant,
Suddenly, a sinister sepia spills in, stealthily stealing the centre,
An opened door develops, it’s contents appearing as embers,
I’m intriguing by this palace, made of mysterious magic,
Although fearing its malice, I must be leaving this madness,
Still perplexed by the paradise, I proceed with caution,
Through the door, I keep on walking until it’s near forgotten,
Hardly harmless, it feels like a barracks, the army heartless,
Assertively, the redness abruptly dilutes into alarming darkness,
Everything suddenly glows, my eyes pained like nothing I know,
The beam blinds badly, but lifts to broadcast my brother below,
Awaken to a voice, which to this day is still tattooed on me;
"I’m arresting you for suspicious of murder….Andrew Conley"


17/10/10 - 18 Years Old
Shrooms

Me and my girlfriend Veronica, I’m very much in love with her,
We went out on a trip, going on the mushroom hunt,
Our aim and goal, was to eventually be tripping and all,
Then we found it, a large mushroom with a black nipple on top,
I don’t care to boil with tea; I just want it into me…
. . .
Astonishingly, I assume the accolades of aborigines,
Woefully, I wonder into the wild excitedly,
Childlike, I crave inside to start climbing trees,
I imagine I fly high and my weight is nothing,
The tree holding me back, a branch escapes its clutches,
Looking up, I gaze as the moonlight dilutes to dark,
The stick as my wand, I manually move the stars,
I point it high, holding on with sturdy hands,
As I remember my counterpart, I return to camp,
Inside, I see rainbows of colour, dripping like sinks,
Afraid and fearing, I start swinging the stick,
As it collides, I hear it shatter and kill,
Many shades of red begin to splatter and spill,
The cracks and crunches echo in my ear,
Until the haze disperses and disappears.
. . .
My head fixed back on my shoulders, on top of my back,
Tightly, I feel that my hand is clenching, a log in my grasp,
I stand shocked and disturbed, I’m now awfully sorry,
Shadowing over the bloody mess of Veronica’s body.


24/01/11 - 18 Years Old
Delusions of Grandeur

Face to face, I want to smash your jaw and step on the shards,
I stand in antagonising agony, staring through my nemesis' guard,
You're possessing a heart for hatred, any retribution removed,
Convinced that your convictions are crimeless, your delusions delude,
An alcoholic, rapist and murderer, nothing more than a twisted cancer,
You fuel my adrenaline, assisting a raw animalistic anger,
Attention starved, but here you are less than famished,
Your problem protects you, hiding behind all that mental anguish,
You refuse to reveal the reality, each of your creations are callous,
I tried, but when I extended my hand, you were unable to grab it,
You don't even detest the defamation, no regrets displayed,
Yet I am carelessly caressed and condemned with blame?
The people who persecute, have seemingly sought to target me,
Yet when the sun spreads in the sky, it is you who is hard to see,
You are rancid and ruthless, while my benevolence limits me,
Together as one, housed under very definitive differences,
You make it as miniscule, but matters have your mind diminished,
Staring at you, I see the sickest of sepias, you are vile and vicious,
You reflect upon me, the pains and problems of a medical patient,
Your eyes; a story of evil, each fiendish word phonetically stated,
I can't bare it, I am enraged by these impatient matters,
I attack relentlessly, no stop until your face is shattered,
Victorious? I now lay a victim, encapsulated in this madness forever,
Cowering, I crouch in the corner, looking at the cracks in the mirror.


30/01/11 - 18 Years Old
The Greenhouse Effect

I stare as it's wonder is warning the cynics, colours spill into each other, no boarder envisioned,
A rainbow ruined, warping it's finish, damaged dramatically, distorted and twisted,
I pray that the spectrum is the height of the havoc, but my experience expects the sign of a savage,
No moment manifests defining the madness, each scattered star; capable to brighten the planet,
All is quiet, no shouting or screaming, seemingly no sinister scenes, scoundrels or cheaters,
A place of mystery, surrounded by reason, stars flicker like flames, how are they breathing?
Are we different? I'm afraid it's alarming, that the distance is all that creates this greatest of margins,
Hatred is heartless, so wrongfully, there might be a reason, for the display of the darkness,
My land? An endangered defeatist place, a neglected and negative obsolete disgrace,
This vast vision bedazzles, I seek it's fate, and the eternal existence of a peaceful race,
Imagining unity, it's a delicate dream, but out there it's not ridiculous, I believe that anything's real,
Perhaps nobody will be left on the street and all can salivate at the sights, settings and scenes,
Peace is a parent, we grew as an orphan, and I check back at colours and see why the look is distorted,
Every movement is morbid, and eventually it might move and become vacuumed in a vortex,
So, am I delusional in hoping it won't have grown from it's birth? No havens of hatred or oceans of hurt,
I just scratched the surface, made a hole in the dirt, graciously gazing at a globe or the earth.