ravnskald13

[ravnskald13]

Posers

Live your life within a mirror

Reflecting what you try to show

Every day they see it clearer

But you still will never know

All your life is just reactive

All your days a jester’s dream

Thinking it makes you attractive

But you’re just a whiny fiend

Wear your fashion so intriguing

But beneath your iron skin

Just a faker scared and scheming

Never letting light come in

Now you see you’re just a poser

Hiding there beneath a mask

If you’d see you’re just a loser

Maybe you’d stand up to task

[ravnskald13]

Heroes, all of them

The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years, 1988. Filmed August 1987 - February 1988. Los Angeles, California. ➙ [ 1 - 2 - 3 ]

[ravnskald13]

A lot of really good drugs

What is it they put in music in the late 60s and early 70s that makes me want to crawl into myself and mourn that I was not alive to experience it as it was happening.

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Weariness

Like the hand of death about my neck

So does fatigue surround my life

But I must stand despite the pain

For what am I if I don’t fight?

This Spector haunts my every step

Consumes my memories and dreams

Alone within a thickening fog

Remembering times of better things

For I remember long ago

When as a child I could run

My legs like wings that carried me

To golden shores and merry songs

But now those days are gone for I

A man am not the boy before

Though staggering, shambling ever on

I shall not run from life’s Great War

So I shall stand and I shall fight

Until the blessed sleep shall come

On angels wings I’ll fly again

And run in fields in heaven’s home

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The Path

Along this path of life I find

That misery is often there

A slog through weary fields of wine

A wind of cold and bleak despair

Alone we often wander on

In fitful dreams black as the grave

A cold and forlorn battle won

But still I am a weary slave

The path of life morose and cruel

Flecked in between with shards of gold

But for the hope which sometimes finds

Still often I am sad and cold

The path of life, where does it lead?

To heaven’s shores or hell below?

Will I ascend on angels wings

Or rather fall no more to roam?

[ravnskald13]

the universe has a plan for you, even if you can't see it yet.

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Machine

On and on the wheels spin

And I like them go round again

Another day, another pay

But I’m alone still at the end

What is the value of a coin?

When one has none to spend it on?

I ask the world, what is the point?

Machine of life still thunders on?

The hands of oligarchs and fiends

The laughs of devils in my dreams

And other, darker, bleaker things

Another day in the machine

My heart still pounds

I loathe the sound

Around the track

Pursued by hounds

A bitter thing

A madman’s dream

A simple cog

In the Machine

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In the Sunlight

Under groves of burnished emerald trees

Where the land is quiet, filled with ease

And the skies so sweet, earth beneath our feet

And warming heavenly glow

It lies in worlds of wonder

As it crests upon the boughs

And I gaze upon that golden face

As it shines upon the ground

And though it burns my skin and face

Still I beckon to its call

As the radiance falls down on me

Like a strengthening fire tall

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The Conscious Mystery

Who can tell just what we are

In this reality of ours

And who can say what we are for

Why one is rich, the other poor

And who can know what fuels the soul

To run towards its passions free

What mind can comprehend the goal

Of this great conscious mystery

Magnificent, malevolent

The incarnation of the heart

Imagination, dust of stars

Or some immaculate work of art

What is a man that he should live

And breathe and move and act his will

Where one would built a city tall

Another burns and steals and kills

Oh what am I that I should be

A soul designed to live and breathe

Oh God to comprehend the key

Of this great conscious mystery

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Seraphim

Looking at the sky above

The magic swirls above my head

The cherubim and seraphim

Dance in scenes of orange and red

A thousand flaming candles held aloft in hands unseen

A thousand holy angels all in unison they sing

And looking at these seraph skies it brings me to my knees

For beauty such as this cannot compare to anything

And I would weep for joy at such a glorious delight

If I only did not fear to break the spell of thier great light

So only shall I shed a tear for the loss of this great scene

As the angels beckon call the dark, and the land of wishful dreams

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Madness

Alone I cross the span of unknown leagues

Fear in my heart and weakness in my knees

I spin incoherently beneath the blazing sun

The mountain looms ominously behind me

The dusty hill ahead like a stalwart sentinel

The mind reels, the veil of sanity wavers

Death is imminent? Perhaps

The end? The afterlife? Or just another journey?

My soul cries out to God in the wilderness

Like Christ drawn into the desert

Tormented by devils in a wild dream of strange terror

Oh God! Where am I?

Screaming internally, I unravel and stumble along a dusty path

And find myself home again

Normality

I am alive…

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“To sit alone or with a few friends, half-drunk under a full moon, you just understand how lucky you are; it’s a story you can’t tell.

It’s a story you almost by definition, can’t share.

I’ve learned in real time to look at those things and realize: I just had a really good moment.”

—Anthony Bourdain

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Monotony

The same day as yesterday

Another time around the track

I know my soul is breaking down

I know there is no going back

Another night, the razor’s edge

A fool that dances on the brink

Of madness clouding every thought

But screw it, have another drink

The same old places, same old faces

Same old story, same old song

I cannot recognize my face

Can’t tell what’s right or true or wrong

I look into my weary eyes

The darkness clouds about my head

Am I alive within this haze?

I wonder if I’m truly dead

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And I know that I

In another life

Could have loved you babe

And I feel inside

Like a bloody knife

That I’m just a slave

And I wish that I

Was around you more

Cause I love you so

But I know inside

Deep down in my core

And I’ve got to go

[ravnskald13]

Made myself and my friends some dank food

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In dreams of old, and childhood days

Where castles stood, where heroes played

Atop a mountain made of sand

They shaped the hard and barren land

Like kings of old they clashed their swords

And broke their weapons on the shield

But time cannot be shown in words

Of what they felt out in the fields

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“I am the lizard king, I can do anything…”

Jim Morrison, 1968

Photo : Elliott Landy