kings entombed in pyramids are not immortal.

enshrined in their mortality, trapped in their lifespan

they are the quotient of the division they sowed

ruling the lower classes by fright and fright alone

until they absorb it as their own, turned to stone.

fossils of a crueler time, ruins of a civilization's pride.

glaciers will melt, mountains will tumble

destruction is a habit, one impossible to break

similar to the eternal pyramids, and just as bleak:

a pharaoh can stand on his balcony and watch

his predecessors trapped forever by their own pride

never getting to ride in the helicopters of the future,

they will slumber while progress awakens,

until their bodies crumble into dust,

becoming the harsh desert they were born in.

rulers were enmeshed in their sand-coated lives,

never blessed by the smooth movements of a jellyfish,

or the chitter of a chipmunk, mouth filled with winter fuel.

they never got to stare into an ocean sunset.

in life, they were trapped in their fear of death,

even as they continued their march towards it.

and when they finally did crumple

at the end of their walk towards unattainable progress,

they built themselves towers, far from typical

so even in death they could not be doubted.

yet still, they were nothing but mortal,

even as they claimed to be hosts to gods.

not so powerful after all.

Doubt seeps into the skin of those who remain,

just outside the scope of some success,

who needs there ego fed,

funnel fed success,

so shut your trap,

like sharks to a feast,

shouting,

Success,

Success,

Success!

read all about it,

Success

Success

Success!

I am life.

I am an explosion.

I am a rebel screaming out against death with every chord of my voice, every muscle of my body.

I am screaming out against death with my mouth, my fists, my cock.

I am screaming out against the death of the soul, the conformity of society that kills individuality.

I am screaming out for individuality against structure and form and jail cells and walls.

I am screaming from the mountains come here! Come here!

I am screaming from the sky this is where we belong!

I am a rebel rising from a grave.

I am a rebel shaking my fists at the guns and bombs of society.

I am screaming at the killers, the politicians. No more!

I am fighting with every ounce of will, every bit of creativity, every ounce of life force.

I am the thought outside of the box, the whisper in the wind, the howl of the wolf, the roar of the dragon.

I am the fire, I am the energy.

I am life.

some long since gone song playing on the radio,

a dusty stereo between us,

nighttime moon plucked out of the sky and

replaced with an overhead lamp,

bouncing off the car windshield.

if it was a movie, we'd be an hour in,

with warm darkness and breathy air,

tasting the smiles on our faces,

except -

promises. i don't keep,

it's minutes not milestones,

bricks under our feet not clouds,

if my head's above the waves then you've

always been drowning,

holding my hand underwater

while

i let you sink.

i'll let the heat linger,

i'll let the warmth seep into our bones a little

longer, but

our hands touching isn't

electric, but ordinary.

ordinary like your car radio and everything else.

puddles in my chest,

i can see it in your eyes that

you hope, still, that

you'd touch my nose or my face

if i let you.

my mouth, perhaps, if you tried.

please don't send me flowers,

when

i've got nowhere to put them,

and they'll droop and drown in the

moonless nighttime air.

sunlight would find the petals, and

dust motes would dance in the air,

and they'd shrivel up

on my

bedside table, where you'd

never ever see them.

nighttime moon plucked out of the sky and

not enough light

to hold onto, so

it's dark enough to breathe in dust

and think about how, maybe,

we could pretend none of this really

happened

at all.

I put the car in park

Deep breath

I can do this

Practice smile

I can do this

Try out laughing

I can do this

Watch myself in the visor mirror

I can do this

I enter

Smile

Laugh

Nod

No one turns to me

No one asks

No one encourages

I pretend to be one of them

But I'm invisible

I return to my car

I cannot do this

The Devil wears

Good and Evil

and wears it

All too well.

Cuts a sexy

figure down

the middle,

Cut above

a cute lil

belly pooch

Broached in a

lemniscate

diamond pin

whose shapely

pair of lying

question marks

intertwine and

beguile in their

Hypnotic arts

to limbo

the stricken

within false

Persona,

wearing skins

and outfits,

to the nine:

Admired but

illusioned in

Our minds...

01.28.2023

The Devil Wears ___ & ___ Challenge @MedusasSon420

The devil wears a cloak of shadows,

And a mask painted with lies.

Innocence quickly fading away,

From all your secrets he unties.

His eyes blaze with flames of Gold and Blue,

A sinister smirk on his face.

He offers deals too good to be true,

He has you think it's just a race.

The devil wears a cloak of shadows,

And a charm he uses as bait.

Don’t worry too much my dear,

Your soul is the low price you pay for this fate.