Tag Archives: execution

Catch Fire


ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏ ᴠɪᴄᴛɪᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴇᴍᴇᴛᴇʀʏ
ʀᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀɪᴠɪʟᴇɢᴇ
ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ‘ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ
ɪ’ᴍ ᴀ sᴡɪᴛᴄʜʙʟᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅʟɪɴᴇs
ᴀᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴀ sᴘɪᴋᴇ
ᴀ sᴘɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴇʀɴᴜᴍ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ…


bodies burn like the sunrise aftermath of the destruction

your lies caused—fractured spines ripped apart and counted

with the notches in their fingers, just a sinner’s aggravation

blindly feeding the grand delusion of pure freedom into

the prison cells rusted with blatant injustice, as you plead

for your worthless life and try to prove you’re not a stigma

you have holes under your palms and feet but you can’t

convince the world that you’re the second coming of christ

he’s fucking dead like your family, like you, like the stability

you once had before you hacked away at it with a blunt axe

from your locked toolshed—you left them all for dead, did

you leave even just one splintered breath? a single dose

of comatose or even close would have been enough for

a plea conviction, but every degree was coldly violated

you’re too violent! send the sordid sentence for electrocution

right away tonight, families will sleep a little safer and the

streets spilled with less vomit and spit, the constables

rejoice in favour of another bigger shrimp to fry—did you

even say goodbye? when the glow from their dwindling vision

flickered into the end of the tunnel that you’re chasing, how did

the liquid rose taste when you splattered the shattered mirror

trying to get it off your hands, did you really think it would stay

there forever like the devil on your shoulder? digging in deeper and

deeper, that’s why you smile so crookedly, and the steel manacles

aren’t helping with your shambling gait, either. now, look at the iron

witnesses and the tear-stained grievers and the burly man by the switch

whose teeth is a nasty shade of nicotine brown, like your last meal that

has been as bland as the bible verses of bullshit being spewed by the pastor

holy water nearly drowns you but it can’t drown out all the crying, the

blindfold’s suffocating but the disillusions inside your mind are ever

spinning, chew the rubber wedged between your mouth in agitation

don’t let them smell the fear, don’t let them know you’re here, don’t—

enough with the drama. enough is enough. enough will be the end.

and if anyone dares to ask you now, tell them just one more stunning lie,

“i don’t fucking deserve this.” famous last words, the very tail end

interrupted by one sickening jolt as the entire world lights up for your crimes

and the body of a monster finally burns away into the final sunset’s demise.


ᴄᴜʀʙ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇ
ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs
ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴍᴇ
ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴍᴇ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅ?


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Thanatopsis Erebus

Soft wrists and sharp edges

A dark breath in decline

The disconcerting interplay

Performance of the sign

Moon-blanched vulgarities

Pale innocence on death

Wistful dreams for coroners

Torment thy cozen health

Sedation after manipulations

Lies of century-old adage

Contradictions the affectation

Of this cadenced sabotage

Soft minds and sharp hindsight

Provoke suffocating times

Of this disenchanting execution

Leaving only wordless lines.

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All Hail The King

Your cruelty clings to my broken wings
You wrote this in your scarlet letter
You’re a whore for feelings
A touch-me junkie scraping by the skin
Of someone who’s better…

~*~

It’s the way he carries himself

As if the world should bow to him

Each step a dramatic flair

With much regard and self-esteem

.

The way he looks down on people

Like he’s such a special case

With a practiced condescending sneer

Etched on his fist-worthy face

.

The way he degrades and consumes

Getting bites big enough to chew

When he has used and spat you out

He’s completely through with you

.

The way he thinks he’s all there is

And the universe on their shoulders is his

He’s got his friends, got his enemies

He’s got his plastic talent and camaraderie

.

And it’s the way he carries himself

As if he is the king of this whole damn thing

But he’s just a power-tripping man charged with treason

Prepped and ready for his final execution.

~*~

You’ve got it wrong, weakness is the body leaving pain
You like the way it hurts, the scar, the stain
You’re in the gutter, the kind of filth that makes me shutter
What you can’t change will remain the same…

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Death Sentence

Dining with chronic depression

Is just like a prisoner eating his

Final meal before his execution

.
A gloom hangs heavier, feeling

Like the noose your neck will be

Choking; twisted stomach empty

.

Still, it’s more fulfilling being fed

When you know in your mind that

You’re close to being fucking dead.

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All Hail The King; God Save The Queen

When there’s no future, how can there be sin?
We’re the flowers in the dustbin
We’re the poison in your human machine
We’re the future, your future…

~*~

Wallowing in your vast wealth, swim in limitless riches and sheer opulence

With your hard-worn pride glimmering blind and your greedy ego’s corpulence

Your golden throne and bejewelled shiny crown is your gratifying sanctity

Your own way of safe protection against life’s endless cruel infidelity

.

Dine as many times a day as you wish, with the finest of food and silverware

And a bath of lavender and rose petals shall await you later on, laid prepared

With tailored suits and expensive gowns donned, shan’t you have a party?

Dance to the beat of the music and mingle with the highest orders of society

.

Paid postage stamps donning your sharp profiles, lick it and then stick

The poorer ask for empty grumbled bellies fed, why not let them eat cake?

The criminals fled and burned witches dead, sick entertainment to no end

Bring the executions on, strike the razor guillotine, and *thwack!* Off with their heads!

.

Power and soldiers will save you from the hive crowds, masses that flock and hate

Chainmail armour will protect you from crimson roses’ sharp thorns that badly scathe

Cold currency can buy you everything that you ever wish for at your own disposal

After all, money talks better, and it’s sadly true that human avarice is universal

.

Your banner stabbed and raised upon the ground, designated coat of arms boasted, flag fluttering

Rewarded with that twisted satisfaction of making a mark on this earth, such a sweet dignified feeling

But not all that glitters is gold; people shall look upon you not with fear and respect, but rather loathing and pity

And the centuries will come and pass until you’re nothing more but a mere forgotten footnote in the books of history.

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