karmacursed

An aching of heart, changing paths, Spending a lifetime paying penance for mistakes past. Confused at the start, A towering deck... Tarot cards, stacked against redemption. Never glance back, The presence of past... still here to haunt. Communication and truth, Exists... in censorship of chosen ones. Melting my brain, Into swirling Cranial wreckage. Another year goes by, But the world still hasn’t faced itself.

There is a tree that I do like, I call it mine, and mine alone, though to find it is quite a hike and by mother earth its truly owned. I enjoy the shade beneath my tree its where I can take a rest from life, it makes me feel content and free as though I’ve never had a strife. Over the years man has found, in pause, shade from anything helps wounds heal. Whatever their origin or cause, it blocks out what feels too real. I can stay however long my need for I am always promised a nice rest. in the end I always find, in deed, the situations I left are still a mess. Underneath the shade of the canopy its as if my troubles seem to drown. Wh

Concerning Prufrock’s Peach Do you dare to eat a peach? Go on, good sir, I’ll have one, too fulfillment shared for a man each. Careful not to let the juice dribble down your chin, to loose all that flavor would be such a sin. If you do happen upon the pit I’ll ask you kindly. “Please stop chewing it and spit.” For it is very hard and chewing it you would lament. Sucking on the seed should never be done— not for manners, just poor time spent. Unless it’s an uncommon peach you desire, Then, my friend, I am certainly out in the wind. That specific peach only you can acquire Or are you too gentle to see

Slumped over and leaning forward knuckles dragging the pavement, A steep hill stands here before your heart, some twisted form of repayment for taking the lives of the intolerant. Onward, and steady still, you must march, At our destination you’ll pitch a tent that’s carried in a pack upon your back. Bear the weight and march on, good soldier, show them the world will not be conquered. There could be no image, younger and bolder Than you with this burden on your shoulder. Whether your resting place is Iwo Jima or off the beaches of Normandy, a Punch Bowl in the sea, Arlington Cemetery, or dead in a trench without a notary. I wi

Slumping in a chair, his mind asunder Drooping like a flag on a windless day, Staring into space with bloodshot eyes Memories of her, smiling in the breeze, An Iceberg shipwrecking his sanity, Happiness and torment entwined. The Friend?…. The Infatuation?…. The Love of his (deteriorated) life?….

Here stand the sound bodied and strong willed, Machines driven by subconscious. Thoughtless masses driven to survive, Their only want for sustenance. Empty thoughts of tomorrow, Yesterday has been erased. Fossils are buried in sand, Parched bones of the meek and feeble. A testament to Darwin.

Eyes closed Blood stained face, haunting memories Never will erase. Left without hope A tortured soul, forever feeling of almost loosing control. Bound and broken inside your mind, stare in the mirror and witness your decline. Do you see some one you despise? How do you get it out of your mind? Scars of the flesh mental wounds unseen, thrown out like filth with the other unclean. A vacant stare strewn across your face, the death toll climbs as the bodies fall in place. Is there a good way to meet a demise? How do you get it out of your mind? Scars on your soul lack of control, antisocial you're in a chokehold. A psychiatric flood dr

He runs past machine gun fire while dodging mortar shells on Utah Beach, French, the language of love… he’d never heard it spoken. Covered in blood and sand he loads his rifle and gets ready, To fight the enemy… for his brothers in arms. Surrounded by mutilated corpses of what used to be his friends, He charges up the steep shoreline… Thinking of his family back home. He had survived through his first battle of the war, But there were many more to follow… Each claiming more of his brothers lives. Many things he left unspoken when he returned, unless to another veteran he spoke, Shared stories of  battle