Arcadium Knight

My vessel is cold, when I wake

A microscopic ice age

A new sun gives way

I didn’t want to freeze them

But my soul couldn’t stay

My soul couldn’t stay

So we will start again today

Time moves differently

When it’s existence is up to you

Days and weeks my soul can travel

While my body is still sleeping too

A few hours of unconsciousness

I will explore all that is out of view

My soul couldn’t stay

Because it has so much to do

Every breath I take to breathe in reality

I use my mind to create the world surrounding me

This is more than a vision, this is a mentality

A piece of God architecting all that I can see

My soul couldn’t stay

I am exploring the galaxies

One day my soul will not return to this Earth

My body will lay cold as it returns to the dirt

Somewhere during sometime maybe I will again be birthed

And maybe I’ll still remember all the love and the hurt

My soul couldn’t stay

So I sit there in silence

And I ponder my thoughts

Storm clouds of violence

And a drought of what’s not

Bring me down from Heaven

Cause I’ve been led astray

The floodgates are open

My demons at bay

Whisper in my ear

Tell me what’s wrong

A judgmental silence

For lyrics too long

A galaxy of chaos

Swells up in my eyes

Rip apart the words

With a freeing demise

I’m holding on to holding on

Because what if it goes?

Lost in a void

Filled with highs and the lows

Mention it’s dimensions

As more than it is

Expansively diminished

Inside of a grid

Lo and behold

I’m thinking again

Waiting for my voice

But I speak with a pen

Where to go next

When it’s the pattern the same

Drown me in the shame game

I can take all the blame

Between what I am

And all that I’m not

The realization comes

That I’m stirring the pot

Thoughts to a boil

A brainstorm stew

Ideas I’ve had before

And ones I never knew

So where can I pour it

There’s mostly zombie ears

They taste the discomfort

They taste all the fears

But I pour them out

Because why do I care

I don’t fear being afraid

I fear being where

Where I understand the void

But they look right through

I want to show more than darkness

But they say that’s untrue

Where I whisper in my ear

About lyrics too long

Just trying to find out where

Where my words can belong

So I sit there in silence

And I ponder my thoughts

Hearing every small discretion

From storms that I’ve fought

Bring me back to Heaven

When my words are done

A state of mind so divine

If you know which way to run

Blood is to words

As life is to narrative

Finding meaning in either

At times, I envy those that are able to forget

Forget the pain or torment they have caused

To wake up without remembrance of the nails they have driven in other’s coffins

Many days have I tried

But no chemical is enough to change my mind enough to make them fade away

My mind is like a whiteboard covered in permanent marker

No matter how much substance I try to scrub them off with the remnants are still there

I callous my hands and I try to overwrite them

But I always see them

They stare at me everyday in the form of memories

They look directly into my eyes as if they know I cannot look away

They know that whenever I see my face

I see what that face has done

My reflection a reflection of my past

Haunting and consuming me

They are free

But I am not

For my mind chains me to the person I was taught I should be

Who I thought I should be

But is it who I ought to be?

I want to be free

But cannot

I am a madman scribbling on the walls of my cell

I am a prisoner in a prison I built myself

I am pushing the boulder up the hill

As my reflection stares at me while it pushes it down

I am crushed over and over again by the weight of torment

That is not who I am

But is it possible to know if I kid myself?

That cannot be me

Layers upon layers of illegible marker covers these walls

I try to find purpose and meaning of any part of it

But the words grow eyes

They stare at me in judgement

I know what they mean by “the word is God”

For the words do not let me forget

They do not want me to become who I was

God is a writer and my story is not over yet

Maybe I just need to highlight some parts

Maybe I just need to rearrange some letters

Maybe I just need to believe the answers are there

Amongst the pain that I have been caused

And the pain that I have caused

There has to be more to what I have written so far

There has to be more to why I cannot erase this madness

There has to be more to the being that stares back at me

Their face exhausted and depleted

Begging me to just let the boulder crush me one more time

And even if I might

I rewrite

There is a bliss to pain

When pain is understood

It would be difficult to know the wrong

If you only focus on the good

The words would have no meaning

The memories would fade away

There would be no present

Sonder

Today I will sit and think for tomorrow

Today is not mine, but time that I borrowed

These words are not sad, but filled with sorrow

What is today, if I wait for tomorrow?

Tomorrow is today, but only for you

Tomorrow, for me, has so much to do

These words are not scary, but I fear them too

What is tomorrow, if it is nothing new?

There is more to this, more than I will say

For as I have said, tomorrow is my day

These words are not wasteful, but I feel them waste away

Purpose

Sometimes it is felt in multitude

Sometimes it is felt lacking

What is done with great reasoning one moment

Can be diminished in after thought the next

Steer clear the fires of progress

Only to freeze in the unchanged

To be oh so close to the sun that flesh is no more

Mistaking those tethered as sacrificial

Or to be part of the chained and sacrificed

A stagnant molding of a being that could have

How does one find perfect balance in those of opposites?

When trying to do so condenses you to insignificant

The eyes of those loved look with shame

For either moving too quick or not fast enough

A symbol for said balance, Christ

Talks about waiting for the correct moment

A being who saw flesh no more and was sacrificed too

Is this the idealization?

To understand this is all matter, but still mattering at all

To be frozen in the flames

Burning with passion, but tethered to the cross

Finding meaning in the scribbled words we identify as life

Gold Flowers

In the dark and damp happenstance I watch the Devil grow

They saw me dance and thought perchance “it is time for me to know

How emotions feed the oceans of this universal trance”

With weary eyes and teary cries they desired my vessel by ignorance

In the end, the Devil descends to achieve what we all crave

A home of warming relief, a sea of freeing waves

All is deceasing, but by releasing my words while my body is young

I end up postulating plans no one understands because they believe I’m speaking in tongues

The Devil scales in numerous tales from microbial to planetary dimensions

We get it correct, but not perfect, about their true intentions

It is no secret or denying it, the Devil has had their misdeeds

But from what we know and what we have seen, they are no different than we

Breaking down and building up could be balanced peacefully

If more time was taken, not forsaken, thinking cohesively

Using perception of perspective is a comprehensive power