Deaths Head Rising

This is from 2008 but I just made some changes. I used to call this Gotterdamerung


Deaths Head 8/10/2011

I am the son
Of a deep black collider
A secret and a mystery
Of accidental fate
And ancient invention.

All of us are different
But all of us are connected
Created and recreated
Infused and filled with fire.

I don’t need a disease
To make myself feel better
And I don’t need anyone’s label
To make me feel good.

There is no cure
That I want
Because there is no definition
For the pain of the truth.

Deep down
We all know
Because it was true
True at first light
The first thought and knowledge
Before we doubted
And knew fear.

I am an enigma
And I am a riddle
An aberrant result
Of an uncontrolled reaction
Forgotten and purposeless.

I am just waiting
For the bombardment to stop
Numb to the cold
And almost out of time.

People can be your friends
But silence is the enemy
Because it kills so very slowly
Day by day
And drop by drop.

And I don’t know what to write
And I hate to bring anyone down
But I am like a black fish
Swimming sideways
And dying.

When the last shots are fired
And all of us are dead
Will anyone read these words
Or even understand.

I hate to think
That my words are wasted
While I flounder
In my own blood
And drown.

It’s not that I hate small talk
But something inside has died
And it’s not that I stopped caring
But so much has happened
And so much has been lost
That I don’t know where to start.

I am not the same man
That I used to be
My eyes lost their spark
As all the colors drained away
But as I look back at the horror
The anger gives me strength
And now they are blazing stones of death.

If you have never been to the wilderness
Then you don’t know desolation
And how the earth covers the ruins
And all is lost to time.

Others shall come
And sift through the rubble
Guessing what must have happened
Maybe they will find
Some bones or some hair
Or maybe nothing at all.

Three and four make seven
And six and one the same
Each value different
But all the sums the same.

If seven is the holy number
Then I was meant to write it down
Because each letter has a number
And all are seven spaces apart
All numbers equidistant
And all of it equals seven.

If you killed a man
Would you expect him to laugh?
And if you left him wounded
Do you think he would smile?
If so then why would my words offend?
When everyone is true
And why do I get the blame?
When all I did was good.

A false pretender
Promised himself a friend
But then he raised up a knife
And cut me in twoLeaving me to die
Bleeding in the snow.

Except I haven’t died
And I lived to watch
As everything I loved
Was stolen away
As I suffer
And bleed to death.

People seek comfort
And also seek advantage
Leaving you in a heartbeat
But only if there’s something
To be gained
And there’s nothing left
You can give them.

No one will remember
That I stood my ground
The last man standing
In the valley of the dead.

Left to face the horde
Without supply and alone
Written off as dead
As they all ran away.

They can all pretend
That I never lived at all
Writing me out of the story
Or just make me to blame.

I’ll never understand
Why its so important
To step on a dying man
Like somehow I deserved
I lose all I loved.

To let me dangle and twist
On three cords of fate
Just watching
And dying.

I am the falsely accused
And once again I am denied
Bleeding to death
In a frozen trench
With a thousand smoldering skulls.

In the valley of the dead
The radiation kills slowly
Just like the desperation
When all hope is gone
And my bones are all dried out
And I crumble to nothing.

It’s hard to see
Your life ebb away
With time enough
To gather all the memories
In a heap of unfinished dreams
And you can’t stop the suffocation
In your own living blood.

But I am not afraid of hell
Because I have seen it already
And even though I may die
Incomplete and guilty
I have lived unmoved.

If you find me
Don’t take it lightly
But always remember
Yes try and remember that
Every time someone runs
Someone else has to die.

The deaths head is rising
And the cult of doom burns
With bodies strewn in pieces
And laughter in the streets.

We have watched
And did nothing
But the choice is clear enough
To kill for survival
Or die without a fight.