This Old Man

This old man
Once had a plan
To build a home with his bare hands
To start his own family clan
Until his country declared demands
And from his enemies he ran
The time came for him to make a stand
Still he received great reprimand
Upon his sleeve he wore a brand
Failing his traitorous homeland
Alcohol became his only friend
Surrounding himself with endless cans
Then his country called again
They claimed a chance at redemption
A chance to lift the unholy ban
While he exercised needed caution
He accepted role of government minion
Climbed an imposing mountain
His grit his only supporting fan
Guiding him to an enduring orphan
Where blossoming relationships began
He signed for teary adoption
A child to fill his remaining lifespan
His final years more special than
What he could ever imagine
Until passing on under skies cyan
His survived child relaying
The requisite salvation
Of this old man

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Chasing the Storm

A cloak made of cumulonimbus
Comprised of total darkness
Spreads its grasp across the sky
Blanketing out any appearance of light
Until electricity reveals itself
Flashing and dancing with gangling fingers
Reaching for a hasty contact
Charring most of what it touches
Even if only for a moment
The blink of mortal eyes
Still, the atmosphere cries
Sheds its tears upon those down below
Denied because of its lethal tangency
Grief becomes rage rather swiftly
Single drops merge into a flood
Gusts of breath ripping apart what once was
Whirlwinds decimating all in its path
Rumbling anguish shaking bones
Fulminations searching for new victims
The atmosphere no longer distinguishing
Potential friend from foe
Unable to decipher within its emotion
Tumbling from one destination to the next
With ever-growing potency
Dragging itself from corner to corner
Until the land has ended
And it drowns itself
In a body larger than its own
Content at last
For the ocean cannot be burned
Even provides companions for the gales
Rises to greet the tempest
The embrace of forces that cannot be tamed

Working Struggles

I’m tired of walking on broken glass
Slicing my feet along the cracks
Blood oozing to fill the gaps

I’m tired of drowning in the shallows
Simply hang me from the gallows
Allow me to be devoured by shadows

I’m tired of being fed senseless lies
Handed false information to cross the divide
All the fallacies wringing me dry

I’ll never be too exhausted to stand
Not even against events unplanned
Not against those slapping my hand

I’ll never cease to be a fire
My flames always reaching higher
Until only the stars shine brighter

I’ll never relinquish my standards
Nor will I become my own bystander
Nor will I let the truth be hampered

The Atom Bomb Song

There’s sirens in the distance
As the death bells ring
The elders are insistent
Yet the children sing

“Rejoice, rejoice
For our time has come
We’ll be saved by ashes
Never fear the A-bomb”

A ball of fire rises
Snuffing the sun out
Gas masks are the disguises
Still we hear the shouts

“Rejoice, rejoice
For our time has come
We’ll be saved by ashes
Never fear the A-bomb”

There’s throngs of people fleeing
Diving for cover
The sounds of parents grieving
Cries the lost mother

“Rejoice, rejoice
For our time has come
We’ll be saved by ashes
Never fear the A-bomb”

The mushroom cloud spreads throughout
Darkness before us
Convincing those left with doubt
They join in chorus

“Rejoice, rejoice
For our time has come
We’ll be saved by ashes
Never fear the A-bomb”

The path of destruction made
The nuke fades away
Leaving sorrow in its wake
No one saves the day

There’s survivors underground
Knowing what death means
Praying to God they’ll be found
As they sadly sing

“Lament, lament
For our time has come
We’ll be lost in ashes
Always fear the A-bomb”

The Sun Will Set/The Sun Will Rise

The sun will set
Ending the bright day
All light fading away
Night no longer held at bay
Demons coming out to play
Yet the sun will rise

The sun will set
Causing endless strife
All the malice running rife
Innocents caught by the knife
Fiends eagerly consuming life
Yet the sun will rise

The sun will set
Bringing senseless pain
All reminders of the slain
Emotions trapping within a chain
Sins uncleansed by the rain
Yet the sun will rise

The sun will set
Encouraging intimate holocaust
All energy has been exhaust
But you can’t give up the lost
You must save them despite the cost
Because the sun will rise

Blossoming Morning

The morning begins in midnight blue
A fresh day barely waking
Then light glitters on the horizon
A new color palette making

The sun peeks onto the sky
Bringing forth deserved life
Then filling the world with warmth
Chasing away night’s strife

The midnight blue fades away
Revealing pastels of dawn
Then the floodgates open
The morning in full blossom

The Drop

The drop cascades down the pane
Reflection twin keeping casual time
A trail marking what has been
A trail etching through the grime
The drop glistens in yellowed light
Sliding at its idiosyncratic pace
Plunging into gravity’s delight
Until it’s halted at the window base
The drop’s sibling runs its course
Tracing a new lane in the dust
Both derived from a singular source
Both trickling with a sense of hush
The drop and its brother united at last
Resting upon the degenerating sill
Reminiscing about their turbulent past
Reminiscing about when they lost their will
The drop soon merged with fallen others
Amalgamating into a tell-tale pool
Remnants of life from within another
Slaughtered by a presumptuious fool
Hundred of drops cascade down the pane
Several leaving an unpleasant smudge
The window splattered with crimson rain
Dishonest glass riddled with fresh blood