Society

Bound at birth
liberated in dirt
whats sets us free
are thoughts and death
each independent
of Society

cultures and cusines
are just atrracting layers
of a cake rotting beneath
with maggots and filth
with its base as the ever judging
Soci-e-ty

An ode lo Bella

old and addicted to a poision that kills,
a romantic soul wandering wild o'er the hills,
and sense of self in waivering jerks,
the needle digs deep and peacefully hurts.
A leaflike shape tatooed around the arms
as the mist falls around the quiet farms.
And fog descends on minds' eye,
in distance hear a quiet cry,
soulful and full of sorrow,
forget about today until tommrow.
melt into the grassy fields,
the wounds that bled, already healed,
and intricate designs and patterns form,
on the ceiling of my earthly tomb,
where silence greets and silence meets,
and something crawls underneath
the dried leaves fallen from trees.
the sweat drying in the gentle breeze,
that blows from a direction unknown.

the moon suspended halfway in the night,
a prism dripping celestial light
caught in the dew that forms,
on warm nights and early morn's.
the distant shriek's a welcome call
piercing through imaginary walls
a view of blue from down below
as the day fades the moonlight flows,
with fireflies and incense in the atmosphere
what a wonderful time for end to be near.
right here, right beside
and ride away into the night!