A LOOSE SEQUEL

Day by day,

The line between pleasure and pain

Gets blurrier;

The feeling of the highest form of

Pleasure sprouts from the greatest

Form of pain, and what is pleasure’s climax

Disappears into the unknown.

 

Day by day,

The silence drowns out

Beautiful melodies and forces

His mind to listen and dance to the

Deafening tunes of lonely souls wandering

The universes with no purpose;

Of forgotten graves, sighing and lamenting

Their frustrations and loneliness to

The passing wind.

The Silence shackles him up

In the heavy chains of Oblivia

And drops him in the ocean of bad decisions.

There, he is left to do bad all by himself.

 

Surrounded by nothingness,

And without any reference to what is wrong,

He dabbled for a little in Eden and then

Took a stroll to Sodom and Gomorrah,

Where he took stops at the court of

Solomon’s lust and spent a resting moment at

Onan’s temple.

Now he is lost

In Sodom and Gomorrah.

He spends each miserable day

Roaming through her gardens perched on her

Beautiful petals, sucking on sweet nectar.

Before he could fully understand

The implications his life’s escapades,

He was already chin deep,

Drowning in darkness,

Demon piranhas chewing on his feet

And making their way up to his face.

 

The air he breathes fills up his lungs with

Sweet gaseous poison that lies to his mind

And blends a devilish red into the purity of his

Crystal clear eyes.

 

Now, he understands that

Ritual dances are not meant for playgrounds

And the songs of the spirits are not

Melodies to lull a baby.

He knows that the grim reaper is close

For harvest but he lives on,

Trying to do less harm.

He knows now that his rights were wrongs,

So he spends his days trying to re-channel

His footprints in the sands of time

Hoping that someone who chooses his path

Might see the change earlier and get it right.

 

Day by day, by day,

He waits in broken Hope and dried up eyes.

He fears the uncertainty but waits for the

Grim Reaper to come for his harvest.

Maybe there will be a famine in

Sodom and Gomorrah that affects the reaper’s harvest.

Either way, he just waits, floating in his bubble;

Flashing smiles and hoping that the little light

Left in them drives away the demons or lights

Up another life falling into darkness;

He lives through the days,

Swimming with sharks and convincing

Himself that that assuages his fears;

He weaves the details of his existence

Into verses with the hopes that posterity

Finds a truth and sincerity in them

That leads to their own self discovery

And redemption from the Silence.