I will not get upset,
I will not get upset!
You will not see a tear from my eye
My face remains dead-dry.
You will not see a tear from my eye.

I will love again,
And will find a friend-
A comforter.
Whether book, meal or deity
Or anyone with an endearing type of frailty
I will not get upset.

You grunt, you flame, you roar
Your eyes are diamond/demonically soar
With pupils that glaze from a pulpit of darkness

I

walk around, aimlessly around,
And confuse your spectacular wickedness for light
Gravitating and free falling into an abyss.
I soon simmer down,
To samurai slash
The lids of this chapter close.

But what do I do about the surrounding of sheep?
They feel warm and dreamlike,
Too good to be truthful,
At all.
Earthquake.
Your inner circle caves in
Piling on your lungs.
Faces screened up against yours,
They smile.

Scarlet lying between their teeth,
You stop.
Pace
And brace yourself.
Their breath smells wet and heated
As if they devour upon their own flesh.
Slurp up their own blood
And lick the very lips they kiss good morning with.

Grandma, can I even trust you’re the one lying on that bed?

You sound just like that…
Wolves
You present yourself to be a lamb
But you’re really a
Wolf.

I’m not upset.
I’m quite flattered really
That you’d create inconsistent
Fluttered fairy tales
To gain my attention.
Plot schemes,
To see my demise.
Anticipating the day you may truly laugh.
Whilst I lie dead.
Still gorgeous may I add.

I am not upset,
I understand the word set up,
To be literal.
I pray you droids continue to beam me up to higher heights.
For once lived a king who defeated the grave,
Past nails that hammered him down,
As if child’s play.
The dude woke up flawless; like Nah!!!

Oh don’t cry!
There is happy ending.

ALL MY FRIENDS ARE DEAD, SO IT’S COOL.

 

(Part 2)

SIR,

With the little heart that you have

Beat loud.

With little heart that you have

Beat proud.

How many times did they label you heartless?

Incapable to love?

A monster.

So you keep shredding.

You bit into her flesh but found her taste to be a bite back.

Now you are dented.

But you clank along.

Hard and strong.

You desire that golden path called life.

But it seems you gravitate towards the shadow of death.

Your hard core metal magnate

Back to the moon.

Your shallow and empty insides howl

Whenever a movement of air swirls in.

You love her lust,

Darkness,

Passions,

And

You stare at her until your armour rusts,

Gets weary.

Your master calls upon you, and for that time in your life you become animated.

It is limited and negative, but it’s still something.

You go out on the dance scene and literally do the robot

Anything where the light of darkness can see you.

And kiss you.

You seek any circumstance where you can emotionally oppress.

You press so hard

And the victim’s squeal allows for vibrations in your hollow chest

To feel something gives you peace.

Sir,

your silver skin can love again.

You see her luminous glow

Like that of the moon.

But she will soon slip too.

Science says you’re incapable of a heart.

Inanimate, but I have hope for you yet.

Silver man when you realise the path you have,

And what is set before you

You would open up that chest and let faith gravitate a heart

That the land and sea’s chemistry can’t hold.