on a pale horse

The seal is broken,
The call goes out,
The rider comes,
Death is his name,
And the hellguard follow in his stead,

Behold, Death rides a pale horse,

The world hungers,
The world thirsts,
Famine has come unto man,
Death by the scale,
And with it wanting trails,

Behold, Death rides a pale horse,

The apocalypse is now,
The horsemen have come,
War has come unto man,
Death is the blood stain,
And the sword is his claim,

Behold, Death rides a pale horse,

The end draws near,
The rule of men closes,
Conquest has come unto man,
Death is coming,
And the marks his claim,

Behold, Death rides a pale horse.

so I tried

The light is fading from her eyes like the warmth of her smile, breathing shallow as crimson life departs her hollowed husk. I stare at her in my arms thinking, what have I done?! Cold steel pierced her side, robs her of life, steals her soul tonight.

I push her hair aside, to admire the last moments of beauty in life. I wait to see the crossover from here to the afterlife, and to think I did this all with a knife. I can taste the salt of her tears as I try to kiss away her fears, whispering sweetly in her ears, whispering to her that God is near. She moves her hand across my face, in my mind I think "I wish I had shaved".

Her skin is pale now, gone is her smile. Her eyes begin to fix, her focus unfocused. She stops fighting, I feel it against my chest. She is tired, her small voice fading, now as if it were coming from a great distance, she speaks in riddles and sighs. Regrets mostly and then a surprise. "I loved you" she says, "or so I tried", her chest rises and falls one last time.

in the pale moonlight

I exist in finite space,
Not far from the furnace,
Where souls are harvested,
In the melting pot of this circus,

I stand not far from his gates,
And see one by one the souls he takes,
Asmodeus is his name,
To be Faust is my mistake,

I've danced with him in the pale moonlight,
Tasted the chaos in which he delights,
Sat at the banquet of his feast,
Wishing I could stab him in the eye,

Day by day I labour beneath his yoke,
Caught in the sway of another pointless joke,
I am tired, I've cried,
Beneath his whip my spirit broke,

in a jar

Life in a jar,
Shake it up,
Pop the lid,
Watch it come apart,

Boiled tar,
In a cup,
Like a pit,
Watch it stall the start,

Drove a car,
Short circuit cut,
Long trip,
Watch time fail the part,

Stage star,
Stuck in a rut,
Fall by slip,
Watch life burn art,

Another farce,
Too much guts,
No medical kit,
Watch for a broken heart,

a heartstring puppet

The void between thought and emotion is filled by a vast ocean of the things that cannot be spoken but are whispered through the iris of a fallen man's quiet delusions. 

The music of his heartstrings,
Delusion's intrusion of death's quiet solace,
He puppet to emotion's oration,
Sings to him in a choir's chorus,

I cannot engage, 
Drive forward and escape,
thoughts disrupt rearrange,
Gears halt turning the page

Make and model,
Climb and follow,
To the precipice above 
The riddled hollow below

I, he with rage,
Have eternity to face,
Sorrows and the stage,
Morrows of her darkened trace,

Hung in the afterglow,
The world's ashes blow,
Galling winds her ashes sow,
So much for the world below,

We'll fly high,
On the wind of thousand sighs,
We'll fly high,
And like Icarus we'll fall and die,

Crash on thorns who rise to greet
From beneath the roses where she quietly weeps,
Impaled like a piece of meat
The soul departs this lifeless heap.