Into The Void

Galactus and Peacebloom

Chasing The Fire

Hope is but a fleeing shadow,

Thorned and thistled by this fickle world,

Thee ice cold flame burns beneath the crystal walls in which it is tamed,

The flame survives caged and held captive,

by the ruthless zerg,

as the flame roars and sears for freedom.

Poisoned and Bludgeoned,

the blood runs freely down the walls of my mind,

twisting and staining all i saw was hope,

as I was once,

merely a marine.

A flame, so simple and so innocent.

So calm, yet so rage driven.

Easily manipulated.

The flame, as we speak of it,is the very spirit,of the terran.

The very soul, of mankind. 

The heart, of the damned,

The bodies torn and broken,

The lives shattered and warped,

Survivors of the final strike,

Forced into slavery,

The intergalactic warfare thrives with all its glory,

And the battle pulses,

With all its horror,

And all its glory.

Ticking away

Time is ticking away, 

to make my movie, is to embrace the worthy of embracement.

She's ready to fly, but yet i stand idle, blinded by her beauty,

tamed by her enchanting wonderment.

The love we share, seems to remain locked up in me,

everytime i look into your eyes, i'm lost,

in an ocean of azure bliss.

You make me smile, and warm on the inside.

My heart skips a beat, everytime i sense your presence.

I love  the way you smile, and always know what my next word will be.

I love the way we argue, and you get those little sparks in your eyes,

that tell me, we're gunna work this one out.

  When we lock eyes,

The clocks stop ticking.

Hit back

I find you flying elegantly above me,

You feel the thrust of my hand as i reach out and snatch you,

experiencing fear in you is the only joy in which i thirst for,

i watch you shake and plead,

my fingertips plucking away, 

clipping your delicate wings,

i gain pleasure watching you suffer,

knowing what you've put me through is ever the more pleasing,

i look back on the torment you've caused me,

and nothing but hatred and anger fill my veins,

you never expected me to hit back,

well here it is.

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What you do to me

Take a prickled thorn,

Encrusted in diamond shards,

Imagine your heart to be in your very hands, 

Drop it in the ice water,

Then wrap it in that same thorn stem,

Now take your metal nails,

And dig them into my chest,

Reposition my beater as accurately as you can,

But that perfection will always be lost,

Like a refixed mirror,

Never truly mended,

Those contour lines and grooves you leave

Are just the remainders of our imperfections,

Something will always be broken,

Despite how impressive the imitation you present may be,

Everyone misses something,

Too bad his somethings someone.

Tsunami description.

The monstrous torrent,

Of the tremendous wave,

Looms tauntingly above the cursed city's feet.

The sinister blackness,

Of the waterwalls shadow;

Hangs tinorously teasing,

toying with the city.

Azure,

Now the city seems, 

held in submission by the relentless force;

Unmatched in its strength.

Gloriously it stands.

System/weekend warrior

Everyday’s a sham,  a skit, a shame, a scam

An unadulterated penny counting fuckjob cocktail of perpetual boredom made only bearable by the lives we laugh at on the tabloid homepages,

followed by a platter of exhaustion and a side of sweet bitter disappointment,

 all served up on a bed of pressed “yes’s” and forced smiles, elegantly topped with a generous sharing of ‘hope’ - we call this the weekend.

Watch how their glimmering mugs glisten with the golden brown yorkshire brew, 

desks riddled with digestive crumbs and forgotten post-its.

is this a stopgap or is this my stop? not quite sure but quick, line 2 needs an appointment set, line 3 needs her account cancelled, line 4′s made a killing selling off his extra shares - canned excitement you hear whining through the line makes you cringe with impatience, they’ve made enough to go on that getaway Mrs Collins wanted, you smile and you laugh, they smile and they laugh, you’ve done your job and you’ve done it well. And still you give just £0.00 fucks.

Your punchy digits stay poised at ease, awaiting orders and moving accordingly. Emails, calls, monthly reviews and target sales, What a desk monkey you’ve become.