2011 - 19 Years Old
Stories of War

I joined the army, the training was simple,
I studied and went on to graduate in the middle,
The real thing was exciting, uncontrolable nerves,
Insercion, over the chopper blades, explosions were heard,
This path to manhood was my main attraction,
We ziplined down, and headed straight to action,
We joined the infanty whom were holding the line,
Looked for the enemies, but there was no one in sight,
We joked with the troops, all dying with laughter,
Until a low pitched grumble silenced the banted,
We lined up, forming a wall of the military,
A large object was visible, they had brought their artillery,
At the sight of this beast, my heart sank in my chest,
Some of the other unit, suddenly paniced and left,
The dust waved in front, we could hardly see,
One of our men jumped up, and grabbed an RPG,
A sergeant, playing the hero, he thought he'd try his luck,
Unfortunatley, the tank replied to us and fired first,
Like a shooting star, the rocket rips through a block of flats,
We see the wall collapse following the awful crash,
As the Sarge looked up, he was hit by the building's debris,
His head half cracked open, the blow killed him I see.
It's reloading to kill us, no one is trying to stop it,
Instinctivly, I grab the launcher and fire the rocket,
The target is locked, the tank's hit and implodes,
The weather returns the attack, the wind drifing the smoke,
Most celebrate, despite being surrounded by death,
I look down to the fallen comrade, brain hanging out of his head,
The runaway soldier returns, solomn, sulking, and I can see in his eyes,
That he hold's himself soley responsible for his leader's demise.

2012 - 19 Years Old
Stories of War 2

I can’t get rid of the image, the sergeant’s face in my head,
No funeral, family and friends to attend and lay him to rest,
Me, him, just other inhabitants, of this forgotten land,
Bullets merely the zip, this war is a body bag,
My unit are robots, designed for this hatred,
All except one, Simmons stands apart from line and formation,
No conversation or socials, he has nothing to say,
Looking down at his feet, blaming them for running away,
I stand up to the enemy, he runs away from them,
He’s just isn’t cut out for it, and that’s something in common,
I don’t know why I think of the Sarg, I didn’t even know the guy,
Every time I try to forget, the weakness overrides,
These other soldiers desensitized, their heads in the clouds,
My contemplation is taken; lieutenant’s yelling ‘GET DOWN!’
Everyone obeys the instruction while I hesitate for a second,
The swift sound of a rocket soon makes me regret it,
My attention was lessened, I failed to prepare,
It collides with the ground behind, now I sail through the air,
My orders no longer my goal, to live is my mission,
I fly past the bullets, before hitting a building,
My skull wraps around a rock, a sharp blunt thump on my head,
I tried to flee the explosion, but now blood’s running instead,
Horizontally, I vaguely see enemies surrounding my fleet,
Circled vision, the radius thinning…and now I’m asleep.


07/04/12 - 19 Years Old
To My Wee Granny

To my wee Granny,

Thanks for the letter, I know I’m late in replying,
I’d say I’ve had better stuff to do, but you could say I’d be lying,
High school, college then now, yeah I guess it was such a fall,
But I didn’t grow up too quick, in fact I didn’t grow up at all,
Seems like I watch the world pass me by as I lay on the couch,
And mums still drinking a lot, too bad you cant straighten her out,
You know that I love my mum, I’d never speak ill of her,
But I think all of us fear the drink is killing her,
It was hard with you near us, but it’s much harder without,
Actually downstairs right this second they are arguing now,
Furniture thumping, high pitched crying, my heart banging in my chest,
It's stuff like this which could have me actually depressed.
I actually had to go down stairs in the middle of writing this shit,
Now I deal with it alone while they’re still fighting like kids,
It’s not the first time I’ve hurt my wrist when I punch the wall,
Pardon my language Granny, but really fuck them all,
Sometimes I want to sit them down, I can never make my mind up,
Anyways, it’s funny that your 3 grandchildren are around the same age that I was,
It’s really bad to think that no ones keeping in touch,
Without you pulling everyone together, we don’t see them enough,
Ryan seems to have settled down, it’s good to see him happy for once,
And before I forget it, I finally gave Jappy that hug,
But I want to make sure that not even for one second have we forgotten you,
You’ll never know how much I’d want to have one more pot of soup,
So I moved house again, maybe this time I’ll be meeting them friends,
I guess that’s it from me, I love you, and prey that I will see you again.

Lots of Love,
Dave.


13/04/12 - 19 Years Old
The Story of Detective Brian Noble


Joseph Beale Residence, Westlake OH, 1.54pm, 10/14/11.
Approaching their home, there’s a decline in the housing on this side of the mountain,
A large forest is sighted around them as I cruise through in my Morris Minor 1000,
These days it just isn’t as strong, rocks crackle under its feet as it hisses along,
Joseph Beale is outside; he whistles a song, enjoying himself as he’s splitting some logs,
Unlike most of the fathers after, he isn’t possessing a type of death in his eyes,
I’m finding it weird since the last time I was here is when Jessica died,
He asks for a cigarette but seems upset when I give him a menthol,
“So why did you call me” “It’s about what I found over next to the deadfall”,
He puts down his hatchet and starts walking through the hollow woods, I follow suit,
He doesn’t seem to care as much since the interviews when it was on the news,
After her death he kind of went back to his life, it’s like her father is dead,
When we approach the scene, I flash back to the image of the axe in her head,
Thick blood oozed through, her flesh feasted on by a demon spawn,
Joseph looks beneath some logs and pulls out from under one; a piece of cloth,
A silk handkerchief, when they investigated the scene it was hidden from placement,
On one side, embroidered with gold thread it said the initials of JN,
He handed it over, “I want all the evidence down so there is no mistake”
I put it in my bag, got back in my truck and then I drove away.

Boris Jones Residence, North Olmsted OH, 3.22pm, 04/11/12.
I knew from the sight of the orchids that his wife was a florist,
Once again I sneak up to a house, which in turn hides in the forest,
Out comes Boris, the alcoholic abusive stepfather of Lacy,
He might have dodged the warrants, but I’m surprised that he’ll actually face me,
When her mother died, Boris hit her hard and inflicted scars,
I’m angry as fuck, asking my mom; Janet above why he was never charged,
He staggers over with a nervous twitch; I know he’s scared of me,
Like little Jessica, Lacy was raped too, but she was left there for weeks,
“Mr. Jones, I thought you were relieved that you were now done with us?”
He handed me a cigarette butt, it was white tipped and all crumpled up,
“I was out in the woods and found that in a bush by the scene at morning,
Now get the fuck off my lawn so I can watch Wheel of Fortune!”

Detective Brian Noble's Home, Cleveland OH, 11.03pm, 04/11/12
I stand in my office, staring face to face with an open fire,
I’d turn in this evidence, but it conflicts with my own desires,
An ominous glow engulfs me and surrounds the scene,
I throw in the handkerchief, that my mother handed down to me,
When the Morris Minor gave out and broke down on a forest path,
The memories came jogging back as a young girl came jogging past,
Everything changed, I had finally started indulging my hurt mind,
I still see her innocent face, it was a flustering first time,
It was the flash backs that got me, I didn’t target her,
She lay beaten and bruised, I saw the axe by a house not far from us,
I gaze in the flames of hell, hoping to see where the mental image ends,
And toss in the discarded remains of my menthol cigarette,
This one was different, this time it was proper to me,
From seeing her cry to watching her sleep, I stalked her for weeks,
On the route to her house, I stood silently still, I waited in hope,
She was late coming home, my cravings would grow, I put a flame to my smoke,
She arrived, I dropped it under a tree, I pace towards, she starts running from me,
I snatched her up, did the deed, slashed her gut, then she was covered with leaves
As I stare in the hearth, we’re not so different and I can say it was true,
Because like them, my childhood died when I was raped in the woods.



15/04/12 - 19 Years Old
The Forbidden Fruit

The spring breeze glazed out necks, it’s the heart of the season,
Our red brick gazebo rests in the Garden of Eden,
Rose bushes stood over single flowers, protecting its kin,
A clothesline reached side to side and measured its width,
One day, I’m picking up bay leafs and left over plates,
A serpent appears, its words hold my fate,
It sits in my stomach, it sees in my head,
It knows my desires; it’s a disease that infests,
Remember what our leader had said, the words rattle around,
His words act as a shielded defence, and now we battle it out,
He sat us in circles and spoke of what our instruction is,
The forbidden fruit was prohibited, he outlined on the punishment,
I was shown that dependence is just an imitation,
He taught us repentance and rehabilitation,
I don’t capitalize on that knowledge enough,
So the serpent’s tongue twisting speech leaves a knot in my gut,
The plates smash on the floor, I’m leaving fast, keys in hand,
I still remember the dark, dingy and damp alley where the tree would stand,
When I arrive, I notice the holes over his toes, exposing his feet,
This tree looks withered and dying, trench coat pulled over its leaves,
Each one turned brown and shrivelled, holes scatter it’s limbs,
Black circles under its eyes act as annual rings,
My handbag alone could be the finest work that Gucci has made,
But when you look under the soil, it looks as if our roots are the same,
I try to refuse but the serpent looks straight in my eyes and I lose,
Picking off a small brown apple rock, it’s certainly not the ripest of fruits,
As I bite in at needlepoint, euphoria sweeps over as I fly away,
The serpent destroyed for now as I enjoy one of my 5 a day,
Now the mundane problems of suburbia, I can easily forget,
I know that I should enjoy my Eden, cause soon I’ll see it repossessed.


2012 - 20 Years Old
Phoenix

For me, there is no insecurity when in security,
It just renders my art in obscurity, a mixed impurity,
I've intensely trained Judo, now I've mastered the technique,
But a mobile doorman is not what my master intended,
It's my job to be strong; I'm demolishing everything,
All the while coming from a past of knowledge and discipline,
Yet at that time of the week I fight on the street,
In life itself it seems I'm still finding my feet,
At night when I dream, I depict the projection of all of these goals,
And when I wake up in the morning, I'm not even close,
Each night is a nightmare; I always know what's in store,
But now when I open the door I find a small envelope on the floor,
In golden calligraphy, it's an tourny invitation to me,
It's the change that I need which will make me at peace,
I'm the best fighter in the world; I must prove that I exist,
So with an iron first I must rule the Iron Fist,
I don't fight for a living; I'm living to fight,
I walk through to the back where dust sits on my bike,
Walk around, instigate an inspection, checking for flat tires,
Visor down, saddle up and then rev 'till it backfires,
My senses are stained by the scent of the gas as it fumigates,
Hit the highway and drive straight to this international kumite,
I don't wanna contest, that's out of the question, I've gotta be best,
I race through the streets, mimicking the thoughts in my head,
When I arrive, passion and drive is the gate's admission,
Inside, a congregation is waiting with the same ambition,
Amongst the group, an Ogre, a bear and a man with a tiger head,
Arriving then is the host touching down in his private jet,
Dust particles work together to create a haze on the scene,
The plane doors slide open, a soft wind starts erasing the screen,
A silhouette is revealed, it’s one that I knew to hate,
As the cloud was killed, it was shown as Kazuya's face,
The host is one in which in the past I have fought,
The only man every against me to have managed a draw,
My blood turns to acid, but it's a different time from then,
And with he fixtures uncovered, it seems we will fight again,
Our storied lives intertwined and now it unfolds.
We take to an open ring; the crowd are the ropes,
Surrounding the show, I come out with a stuttered sentence,

"We end this now", my eyes cut through him with bloody vengeance,
In tunnel vision I come out swinging, I'm sending him home,
Punches and kicks crunch when they hit, bone connecting with bone,
My time is now, it's one a piece in the final round,
He hits the demon scissors, a tsunami kick and the lights are out,
I awake in a bad state, I'm so adjusted to winning,
Is this the end of Paul Phoenix...or is it just the beginning?


2012 - 20 Years Old
Angel

I’m a figure skater; it’s the Olympic final,
My goal is to go out and try to lift the title,
With gold on my mind, there is no mistaking,
The source of my life and my motivation,
My mother above was the best to me,
My mother I love, a majestic queen,
When she put on her skates, heaven opened it’s gates,
A flood of beauty came out and on the ice it escaped,
When she was cleaning the house, or when she’s cooking the dinner,
It was the ice on her mind, and she could do it forever,
When I was 8 years old, she put my mittens on,
Took my hand in hers, and we went out to the pond,
She handed me skates that she’s had since eleven,
In magic marker on the side, the word ‘Angel’ was written,
Like a newborn baby, I tried to stand on my feet,
She says I’m a natural, I know she’s lying to me,
A tear escapes from her eye and it was stuck on her face,
So happy she cried, her two loves in one place,
When I left the rink to where the land was dry,
I turned back to her and something caught my eye,
I stop for a second and see a crack in the ice,
But before I could say, it was snatching her life,
It happened so fast, I was frozen stiff,
But in the call of duty, I awoke from it,
I grabbed her hand; I wasn’t letting it go,
But the last image I saw, was her sinking below,
I can’t remember the rest, we’re ten years away,
But in dedication to her, I am here today.
I awake to crowd, which all look at my face,
Balero’s the sound and now I’m shook from my daze,
The procession softly taps; my heart follows in line,
I capture a deep breath, and now I know it’s my time,
The spotlight is dropped and I take my position,
They comment on my skates and their ‘Angel’ inscription,
I perform for my life; this is no time for regrets,
I’m a fragile being, that’s unrivalled in strength,
Move my skates and I glide, across the face of the ice,
With grace on my side, it’s the most amazing of sights,
I’ve worked so hard for this; I’ve practised for seasons,
But now that I’m here, it’s just a natural feeling,
As I close the show with a butterfly spin,
I feel my mother above drop her love on the rink,
The music quiets, I put my head in my arms,
The crowd stands on it’s feet, I see the tens on the cards,
A break out of emotion, the moment weakens my knees,
It seems so long ago, now I’m achieving my dream,
I look up at the sky, I will thank her for life,
Look down on floor and see her hand on the ice.



2012 - 20 Years Old
The Lights Go Out...

I’m on the main street in the town as we depart from dusk,
A city lit by scattered candles, reflecting on the stars above,
The people are pleasant when I greet and address them,
Even the meanest of persons wouldn’t be seen as offensive,
A joyful location, I stroll through minding my business,
But on this one occasion, suddenly the lights are diminished,
Everything dimmed and blackened, it was such a surprise,
We all stood still when it happened, just adjusting out eyes,
I expected generous gentlemen to give a helping hand,
But instead of that everyone turned to havoc and went to hell and back,
Storefront glass fell to the floor, right along with the morals,
The peace was ignored and hid behind the squabbles and quarrels,
It wasn’t joking or banter, it was an on-going strenuous fight,
Hearts outpoured their anger, it was revenge in the night,
Smiling faces were covered as they robbed regular stores,
People that had crossed them in daylight, now they settle the scores,
The picked targets in darkness, like an assassin they’d do it,
A mob of pretend personas, anonymously ransacking and looting,
This riot and ruckus had wasted hours away,
But it was stopped in it’s tracks and then the powers regained,
Everybody once again froze in place, standing under the lights,
With no cover in sight or somewhere to hide they just returned to their lives,
The darkness wasn’t liked at first, but now I’m changing my stance,
Cause when the lights returns, their personalities fade with the black.




2012 - 20 Years Old
The Jungle

I could stay and survive, it seem that leaving is easier,
Now I rustle through this jungle's thick leafy interior,
My breath is short with me, but if I stop then I die,
I glance past the tree tops where free bird's squawk in the sky,
I hurry past the constriction of vines with harsh whispers behind,
While my foot aches to it's core as I limp on it's side,
The toes scream bloody murder with each step that penetrates,
As sunbeams cut through the tall trees like machete blades,
From my rear I hear the cracking with each slice of a branch,
As my captors chop through the woods, each with rifle in hand,
A tattered tank top struggles to cover the heart on my sleeve,
I hear Alsatian dogs bark through the bark of the trees,
Unleashed, their war cries come out like vicious commands,
Their feet flatten and trample on deciduous plants,
When they fix on my scent, it starts taking them over,
Sniffing it separate from the vegetation's aroma,
They straighten their own whilst staying keen on my tail,
As the blood from my foot begins leaving a trail,
I don't stop to absorb in, the scenery,
But crimson drops dot on the tree's debris,
With a gaping gash which seems to glow as it throbs,
The only option to take is going over the dogs,
There’s a perfect tree, and I see it ahead,
With a fork in it's middle which marks an easy ascent,
With one leg dragging behind, I carefully crawl up,
Tree sap finds a home on my hand, next to dirt and some small cuts,
I grab its limbs with mine and hide away like an infant,
The blood curdling bellows begin, to fade away in the distance,
I never wanted this to happen, I thought leaving was plan B,
But as we split water from rock, they took people from families,
As political guns burst through chests and lives,
I was just a disposable member of an endless fight,
My eyes felt the pain as I was seeing them hurt,
But look at me now; I sit free with the birds,
Between the toes on my foot, is why I’m fleeing from such violence,
Between the toes on my foot, I bleed on a blood diamond.

2011 - 19 Years Old
Stories of War

I joined the army, the training was simple,
I studied and went on to graduate in the middle,
The real thing was exciting, uncontrolable nerves,
Insercion, over the chopper blades, explosions were heard,
This path to manhood was my main attraction,
We ziplined down, and headed straight to action,
We joined the infanty whom were holding the line,
Looked for the enemies, but there was no one in sight,
We joked with the troops, all dying with laughter,
Until a low pitched grumble silenced the banted,
We lined up, forming a wall of the military,
A large object was visible, they had brought their artillery,
At the sight of this beast, my heart sank in my chest,
Some of the other unit, suddenly paniced and left,
The dust waved in front, we could hardly see,
One of our men jumped up, and grabbed an RPG,
A sergeant, playing the hero, he thought he'd try his luck,
Unfortunatley, the tank replied to us and fired first,
Like a shooting star, the rocket rips through a block of flats,
We see the wall collapse following the awful crash,
As the Sarge looked up, he was hit by the building's debris,
His head half cracked open, the blow killed him I see.
It's reloading to kill us, no one is trying to stop it,
Instinctivly, I grab the launcher and fire the rocket,
The target is locked, the tank's hit and implodes,
The weather returns the attack, the wind drifing the smoke,
Most celebrate, despite being surrounded by death,
I look down to the fallen comrade, brain hanging out of his head,
The runaway soldier returns, solomn, sulking, and I can see in his eyes,
That he hold's himself soley responsible for his leader's demise.

2012 - 19 Years Old
Stories of War 2

I can’t get rid of the image, the sergeant’s face in my head,
No funeral, family and friends to attend and lay him to rest,
Me, him, just other inhabitants, of this forgotten land,
Bullets merely the zip, this war is a body bag,
My unit are robots, designed for this hatred,
All except one, Simmons stands apart from line and formation,
No conversation or socials, he has nothing to say,
Looking down at his feet, blaming them for running away,
I stand up to the enemy, he runs away from them,
He’s just isn’t cut out for it, and that’s something in common,
I don’t know why I think of the Sarg, I didn’t even know the guy,
Every time I try to forget, the weakness overrides,
These other soldiers desensitized, their heads in the clouds,
My contemplation is taken; lieutenant’s yelling ‘GET DOWN!’
Everyone obeys the instruction while I hesitate for a second,
The swift sound of a rocket soon makes me regret it,
My attention was lessened, I failed to prepare,
It collides with the ground behind, now I sail through the air,
My orders no longer my goal, to live is my mission,
I fly past the bullets, before hitting a building,
My skull wraps around a rock, a sharp blunt thump on my head,
I tried to flee the explosion, but now blood’s running instead,
Horizontally, I vaguely see enemies surrounding my fleet,
Circled vision, the radius thinning…and now I’m asleep.


07/04/12 - 19 Years Old
To My Wee Granny

To my wee Granny,

Thanks for the letter, I know I’m late in replying,
I’d say I’ve had better stuff to do, but you could say I’d be lying,
High school, college then now, yeah I guess it was such a fall,
But I didn’t grow up too quick, in fact I didn’t grow up at all,
Seems like I watch the world pass me by as I lay on the couch,
And mums still drinking a lot, too bad you cant straighten her out,
You know that I love my mum, I’d never speak ill of her,
But I think all of us fear the drink is killing her,
It was hard with you near us, but it’s much harder without,
Actually downstairs right this second they are arguing now,
Furniture thumping, high pitched crying, my heart banging in my chest,
It's stuff like this which could have me actually depressed.
I actually had to go down stairs in the middle of writing this shit,
Now I deal with it alone while they’re still fighting like kids,
It’s not the first time I’ve hurt my wrist when I punch the wall,
Pardon my language Granny, but really fuck them all,
Sometimes I want to sit them down, I can never make my mind up,
Anyways, it’s funny that your 3 grandchildren are around the same age that I was,
It’s really bad to think that no ones keeping in touch,
Without you pulling everyone together, we don’t see them enough,
Ryan seems to have settled down, it’s good to see him happy for once,
And before I forget it, I finally gave Jappy that hug,
But I want to make sure that not even for one second have we forgotten you,
You’ll never know how much I’d want to have one more pot of soup,
So I moved house again, maybe this time I’ll be meeting them friends,
I guess that’s it from me, I love you, and prey that I will see you again.

Lots of Love,
Dave.


13/04/12 - 19 Years Old
The Story of Detective Brian Noble


Joseph Beale Residence, Westlake OH, 1.54pm, 10/14/11.
Approaching their home, there’s a decline in the housing on this side of the mountain,
A large forest is sighted around them as I cruise through in my Morris Minor 1000,
These days it just isn’t as strong, rocks crackle under its feet as it hisses along,
Joseph Beale is outside; he whistles a song, enjoying himself as he’s splitting some logs,
Unlike most of the fathers after, he isn’t possessing a type of death in his eyes,
I’m finding it weird since the last time I was here is when Jessica died,
He asks for a cigarette but seems upset when I give him a menthol,
“So why did you call me” “It’s about what I found over next to the deadfall”,
He puts down his hatchet and starts walking through the hollow woods, I follow suit,
He doesn’t seem to care as much since the interviews when it was on the news,
After her death he kind of went back to his life, it’s like her father is dead,
When we approach the scene, I flash back to the image of the axe in her head,
Thick blood oozed through, her flesh feasted on by a demon spawn,
Joseph looks beneath some logs and pulls out from under one; a piece of cloth,
A silk handkerchief, when they investigated the scene it was hidden from placement,
On one side, embroidered with gold thread it said the initials of JN,
He handed it over, “I want all the evidence down so there is no mistake”
I put it in my bag, got back in my truck and then I drove away.

Boris Jones Residence, North Olmsted OH, 3.22pm, 04/11/12.
I knew from the sight of the orchids that his wife was a florist,
Once again I sneak up to a house, which in turn hides in the forest,
Out comes Boris, the alcoholic abusive stepfather of Lacy,
He might have dodged the warrants, but I’m surprised that he’ll actually face me,
When her mother died, Boris hit her hard and inflicted scars,
I’m angry as fuck, asking my mom; Janet above why he was never charged,
He staggers over with a nervous twitch; I know he’s scared of me,
Like little Jessica, Lacy was raped too, but she was left there for weeks,
“Mr. Jones, I thought you were relieved that you were now done with us?”
He handed me a cigarette butt, it was white tipped and all crumpled up,
“I was out in the woods and found that in a bush by the scene at morning,
Now get the fuck off my lawn so I can watch Wheel of Fortune!”

Detective Brian Noble's Home, Cleveland OH, 11.03pm, 04/11/12
I stand in my office, staring face to face with an open fire,
I’d turn in this evidence, but it conflicts with my own desires,
An ominous glow engulfs me and surrounds the scene,
I throw in the handkerchief, that my mother handed down to me,
When the Morris Minor gave out and broke down on a forest path,
The memories came jogging back as a young girl came jogging past,
Everything changed, I had finally started indulging my hurt mind,
I still see her innocent face, it was a flustering first time,
It was the flash backs that got me, I didn’t target her,
She lay beaten and bruised, I saw the axe by a house not far from us,
I gaze in the flames of hell, hoping to see where the mental image ends,
And toss in the discarded remains of my menthol cigarette,
This one was different, this time it was proper to me,
From seeing her cry to watching her sleep, I stalked her for weeks,
On the route to her house, I stood silently still, I waited in hope,
She was late coming home, my cravings would grow, I put a flame to my smoke,
She arrived, I dropped it under a tree, I pace towards, she starts running from me,
I snatched her up, did the deed, slashed her gut, then she was covered with leaves
As I stare in the hearth, we’re not so different and I can say it was true,
Because like them, my childhood died when I was raped in the woods.



15/04/12 - 19 Years Old
The Forbidden Fruit

The spring breeze glazed out necks, it’s the heart of the season,
Our red brick gazebo rests in the Garden of Eden,
Rose bushes stood over single flowers, protecting its kin,
A clothesline reached side to side and measured its width,
One day, I’m picking up bay leafs and left over plates,
A serpent appears, its words hold my fate,
It sits in my stomach, it sees in my head,
It knows my desires; it’s a disease that infests,
Remember what our leader had said, the words rattle around,
His words act as a shielded defence, and now we battle it out,
He sat us in circles and spoke of what our instruction is,
The forbidden fruit was prohibited, he outlined on the punishment,
I was shown that dependence is just an imitation,
He taught us repentance and rehabilitation,
I don’t capitalize on that knowledge enough,
So the serpent’s tongue twisting speech leaves a knot in my gut,
The plates smash on the floor, I’m leaving fast, keys in hand,
I still remember the dark, dingy and damp alley where the tree would stand,
When I arrive, I notice the holes over his toes, exposing his feet,
This tree looks withered and dying, trench coat pulled over its leaves,
Each one turned brown and shrivelled, holes scatter it’s limbs,
Black circles under its eyes act as annual rings,
My handbag alone could be the finest work that Gucci has made,
But when you look under the soil, it looks as if our roots are the same,
I try to refuse but the serpent looks straight in my eyes and I lose,
Picking off a small brown apple rock, it’s certainly not the ripest of fruits,
As I bite in at needlepoint, euphoria sweeps over as I fly away,
The serpent destroyed for now as I enjoy one of my 5 a day,
Now the mundane problems of suburbia, I can easily forget,
I know that I should enjoy my Eden, cause soon I’ll see it repossessed.


2012 - 20 Years Old
Phoenix

For me, there is no insecurity when in security,
It just renders my art in obscurity, a mixed impurity,
I've intensely trained Judo, now I've mastered the technique,
But a mobile doorman is not what my master intended,
It's my job to be strong; I'm demolishing everything,
All the while coming from a past of knowledge and discipline,
Yet at that time of the week I fight on the street,
In life itself it seems I'm still finding my feet,
At night when I dream, I depict the projection of all of these goals,
And when I wake up in the morning, I'm not even close,
Each night is a nightmare; I always know what's in store,
But now when I open the door I find a small envelope on the floor,
In golden calligraphy, it's an tourny invitation to me,
It's the change that I need which will make me at peace,
I'm the best fighter in the world; I must prove that I exist,
So with an iron first I must rule the Iron Fist,
I don't fight for a living; I'm living to fight,
I walk through to the back where dust sits on my bike,
Walk around, instigate an inspection, checking for flat tires,
Visor down, saddle up and then rev 'till it backfires,
My senses are stained by the scent of the gas as it fumigates,
Hit the highway and drive straight to this international kumite,
I don't wanna contest, that's out of the question, I've gotta be best,
I race through the streets, mimicking the thoughts in my head,
When I arrive, passion and drive is the gate's admission,
Inside, a congregation is waiting with the same ambition,
Amongst the group, an Ogre, a bear and a man with a tiger head,
Arriving then is the host touching down in his private jet,
Dust particles work together to create a haze on the scene,
The plane doors slide open, a soft wind starts erasing the screen,
A silhouette is revealed, it’s one that I knew to hate,
As the cloud was killed, it was shown as Kazuya's face,
The host is one in which in the past I have fought,
The only man every against me to have managed a draw,
My blood turns to acid, but it's a different time from then,
And with he fixtures uncovered, it seems we will fight again,
Our storied lives intertwined and now it unfolds.
We take to an open ring; the crowd are the ropes,
Surrounding the show, I come out with a stuttered sentence,

"We end this now", my eyes cut through him with bloody vengeance,
In tunnel vision I come out swinging, I'm sending him home,
Punches and kicks crunch when they hit, bone connecting with bone,
My time is now, it's one a piece in the final round,
He hits the demon scissors, a tsunami kick and the lights are out,
I awake in a bad state, I'm so adjusted to winning,
Is this the end of Paul Phoenix...or is it just the beginning?


2012 - 20 Years Old
Angel

I’m a figure skater; it’s the Olympic final,
My goal is to go out and try to lift the title,
With gold on my mind, there is no mistaking,
The source of my life and my motivation,
My mother above was the best to me,
My mother I love, a majestic queen,
When she put on her skates, heaven opened it’s gates,
A flood of beauty came out and on the ice it escaped,
When she was cleaning the house, or when she’s cooking the dinner,
It was the ice on her mind, and she could do it forever,
When I was 8 years old, she put my mittens on,
Took my hand in hers, and we went out to the pond,
She handed me skates that she’s had since eleven,
In magic marker on the side, the word ‘Angel’ was written,
Like a newborn baby, I tried to stand on my feet,
She says I’m a natural, I know she’s lying to me,
A tear escapes from her eye and it was stuck on her face,
So happy she cried, her two loves in one place,
When I left the rink to where the land was dry,
I turned back to her and something caught my eye,
I stop for a second and see a crack in the ice,
But before I could say, it was snatching her life,
It happened so fast, I was frozen stiff,
But in the call of duty, I awoke from it,
I grabbed her hand; I wasn’t letting it go,
But the last image I saw, was her sinking below,
I can’t remember the rest, we’re ten years away,
But in dedication to her, I am here today.
I awake to crowd, which all look at my face,
Balero’s the sound and now I’m shook from my daze,
The procession softly taps; my heart follows in line,
I capture a deep breath, and now I know it’s my time,
The spotlight is dropped and I take my position,
They comment on my skates and their ‘Angel’ inscription,
I perform for my life; this is no time for regrets,
I’m a fragile being, that’s unrivalled in strength,
Move my skates and I glide, across the face of the ice,
With grace on my side, it’s the most amazing of sights,
I’ve worked so hard for this; I’ve practised for seasons,
But now that I’m here, it’s just a natural feeling,
As I close the show with a butterfly spin,
I feel my mother above drop her love on the rink,
The music quiets, I put my head in my arms,
The crowd stands on it’s feet, I see the tens on the cards,
A break out of emotion, the moment weakens my knees,
It seems so long ago, now I’m achieving my dream,
I look up at the sky, I will thank her for life,
Look down on floor and see her hand on the ice.



2012 - 20 Years Old
The Lights Go Out...

I’m on the main street in the town as we depart from dusk,
A city lit by scattered candles, reflecting on the stars above,
The people are pleasant when I greet and address them,
Even the meanest of persons wouldn’t be seen as offensive,
A joyful location, I stroll through minding my business,
But on this one occasion, suddenly the lights are diminished,
Everything dimmed and blackened, it was such a surprise,
We all stood still when it happened, just adjusting out eyes,
I expected generous gentlemen to give a helping hand,
But instead of that everyone turned to havoc and went to hell and back,
Storefront glass fell to the floor, right along with the morals,
The peace was ignored and hid behind the squabbles and quarrels,
It wasn’t joking or banter, it was an on-going strenuous fight,
Hearts outpoured their anger, it was revenge in the night,
Smiling faces were covered as they robbed regular stores,
People that had crossed them in daylight, now they settle the scores,
The picked targets in darkness, like an assassin they’d do it,
A mob of pretend personas, anonymously ransacking and looting,
This riot and ruckus had wasted hours away,
But it was stopped in it’s tracks and then the powers regained,
Everybody once again froze in place, standing under the lights,
With no cover in sight or somewhere to hide they just returned to their lives,
The darkness wasn’t liked at first, but now I’m changing my stance,
Cause when the lights returns, their personalities fade with the black.




2012 - 20 Years Old
The Jungle

I could stay and survive, it seem that leaving is easier,
Now I rustle through this jungle's thick leafy interior,
My breath is short with me, but if I stop then I die,
I glance past the tree tops where free bird's squawk in the sky,
I hurry past the constriction of vines with harsh whispers behind,
While my foot aches to it's core as I limp on it's side,
The toes scream bloody murder with each step that penetrates,
As sunbeams cut through the tall trees like machete blades,
From my rear I hear the cracking with each slice of a branch,
As my captors chop through the woods, each with rifle in hand,
A tattered tank top struggles to cover the heart on my sleeve,
I hear Alsatian dogs bark through the bark of the trees,
Unleashed, their war cries come out like vicious commands,
Their feet flatten and trample on deciduous plants,
When they fix on my scent, it starts taking them over,
Sniffing it separate from the vegetation's aroma,
They straighten their own whilst staying keen on my tail,
As the blood from my foot begins leaving a trail,
I don't stop to absorb in, the scenery,
But crimson drops dot on the tree's debris,
With a gaping gash which seems to glow as it throbs,
The only option to take is going over the dogs,
There’s a perfect tree, and I see it ahead,
With a fork in it's middle which marks an easy ascent,
With one leg dragging behind, I carefully crawl up,
Tree sap finds a home on my hand, next to dirt and some small cuts,
I grab its limbs with mine and hide away like an infant,
The blood curdling bellows begin, to fade away in the distance,
I never wanted this to happen, I thought leaving was plan B,
But as we split water from rock, they took people from families,
As political guns burst through chests and lives,
I was just a disposable member of an endless fight,
My eyes felt the pain as I was seeing them hurt,
But look at me now; I sit free with the birds,
Between the toes on my foot, is why I’m fleeing from such violence,
Between the toes on my foot, I bleed on a blood diamond.