Declaration of Inefffable Intentif i could have any one thingDeclaration of Inefffable Intent by guns4jesus2004
it would be to have my own skull to set upon a shelf
to peer into my own empty sockets
to look upon that crooked heap of bone
that ever lurks inside myself
to ask the face of my own death
"what happened, did we see it coming?"
to see and to know
once and for all
that right over the closest shoulder that can be imagined
that charnel thing that licked and lapped at my denial
always knew the score, and still it grinned
always plotting, waiting to burst righteously
through the prison bars of flesh and skin
self-appointed warden, guard and architect
of the cell it has constructed to wax fat and crafty in
i am but a vessel;
a courier built and programmed for the inevitable end
blind and senseless messenger on puppet strings
entrusted with a missive i could never read or write or send
idiot feet trudging ever closer to the promised land
where the slave that is my master can be by himself forever
a figure set in crumbling stone, standing proudly
WARand he was a mighty god of iron and fire, twisted shrapnel and spent casings, rusted blades and shattered shields, shard and bolt and plate, flesh and blood and bone. his radioactive heart held the schematics to every wasted artifice, creations willingly fit only to destroy, and the statistics of every stolen last moment, lives existing in ignorance to be cut down. in his path there danced only fire, in his wake there stirred only ash. he created man to emulate him, to create themselves in his own image, and he has not been disappointed. he is your father. he is your glory. he is your master, your emancipator, and your executioner. he is WAR. know him, and revel in eradication at his leaden touch.WAR by guns4jesus2004
My Worst Enemyi have needs...My Worst Enemy by guns4jesus2004
but time has decreed
to be completely
empty inside me
and it bends
near and so cowardly
slips out the back
and i just want to scream:
AND FIGHT ME"
but instead, it thieves
and it steals
all my seconds and my moments
times days lives
until i am weak, feeble
unable to move or see
and it is strong
bloated and swollen
with everything it took from me
and at the final countdown
i am K.O.'d
in one mighty blow
but as god
like a cage-match referee
waves his finger
i am free.
Current Residence: Maine
Favourite genre of music: I listen to little bits of everything. Except country. Country fucking sucks.
Favourite style of art: I like surrealism, on the darker side of things.
Operating System: Windows Vista
MP3 player of choice: Phillips Something-or-other.
Shell of choice: eh... conch?
Wallpaper of choice: anything with skulls.
Skin of choice: soft
Favourite cartoon character: Zim...possibly Dr. Tran
Personal Quote: "Well, I fuckin' 'bout...'bout."