#YOUTHEATERSANDWILLBREAKERS

She picked up the pieces and began to crumble

The man in the black hole seeded the throne as the curtains drop.

Suck it all in till the life is gone. Atom by atom… ripped to shreds.

Is this it?

Go forth. Dream more.

Ask and ye shall receive. What is up his sleeve… for all to feel, all too real.

Draw the curtains, lift the veil and mend another broken seal.

The boy you knew the girl you drew in the minds of the feeble, the weak and the plagued.

Night is upon us.

Its time to be honest.

Winning the table and losing the sheets…. And in between a monster sleeps.

Behemoth, of lust and favours creep. 

As you grow, and go…. 

Down and down till you lose that frown.

Toying with the insides and outside it flows.

Nobody knows. Nobody shows.

Breaking the bonds we forged in dreams or so it seems.

Now is never the time it was, bleeding arrows find their wounds and shed the blood in the name of you.

How far would you go?

Nobody knows.

Lending your soul to devils anew.

A newer wave of solitude grips your hand and legs alike.

Feel the rise, you feel alive.

A gift, plague, a fleeting glance…

The girl in the mirror could take a chance.

Narrow and wide and slow and red…

It burns your hell. It takes your hand.

Here for her and here to stay

Come over. Come on. Let it die.

You never know when you’d fly.

High below and down above…

Ready to go and eager to show

Learn to drift from the shadows of old.

She comes in peace and into your mind

On wings of desire you leave it behind

Take what you need and prepare to spin. Out of the lies you kept within.

The bonds are broken. The fall is over.

The boy and the girl and man and the whore.

Now you know. Which way to go…

Still inside?

Dead or alive?

You decide.

On Blasphemy

"Most of the problems that religion and various philosophical movements... down through the centuries have produced...have been errors because that's where they're started – That God is a distinct separate being from us... To whom I must offer worship, whom I must cultivate... humor, please and hope to attain a reward from at the very end of my life... 
That is not what God is. That is a blasphemy."

- What The Bleep Do We Know

Figments

Away from sanctions of time and space
A tiny sprout of freedom fills the void
Blazing anger sweeps through the heavens
Pouring down in whispers of demise

Scattered bodies like pebbles on a seashore
Creeping in the darkness that remains
Grunts of past enslave minds of tomorrow
Whilst the conspirators throw the blame

Provoking justice, inflict more treachery
Consuming all those who believe
Judge and the jury, with a new verdict everyday
As the raging infidels serve the creed

Digging ditches for the ages to come
Dungeons prey on you forever more
The heathen raise their flags for the battle
The war drums boom of skin and bones

As time stopped at the doorstep of dawn
We looked at the stars and saw the past…
When the wise were knowing
Our tribe was growing
The pyre was burning
The tides were turning…

Flying over the ruins of a being
Charred sentiments come to view
Wrecked around the bridges of long-ago
Hear what the silence says to you…

When a life was taken
A promise broken
A name was chosen
A dream was stolen

Of the joy of giving
The heart of loving
The sense of seeing
The pride of showing

A newer ending…

Mighty Red Lazers Scratching Against The Walls

Look Look!
I see red...
bloody well red!

marching towards you
luring you into
dreamy eyes and cheery smiles
fused together in heat beyond hell

Oh Dear, Look!
at the pale warriors of our kind
frail and futile,
bruised and confused.

Murmuring tunes of sex and lies
hunger in their dreamy eyes
they alienate and celebrate
their lust cannot be satisfied!

Chasing heroes and fairy tales
the phantoms of bygone days
Look..!
What a waste...
Fuck the chase!

Yeah, bloody well read.

Zilch

Where to begin?
Where to fall?
Blasted curtain hinder the view,
I once so knew.

Dreams lie
Atop each other
Sweet slumber, sweetest bliss;
And so I slip…

Out and about,
Below and beyond
It's a long way down
Into this quiet town.

Thoughts rise, shadows fall
Shimmering lights say it all…

And so I dance, my dance of deceit
Romancing my words I make you believe…
In nothing!

Bedtime Tale For The Under-loved

Once there lived a mute little boy in the village of souls who painted his dreams.
Untouched by acrimony and free from obsessions. His paintings breathed with love and un-charred imagination. The village-folk admired his art, but didn't understand the power of his dreams; and the boy, devoid of voice, was unable to elucidate his efforts.
He just smiled and nodded with gloomy warm eyes.
And so the days went by…
Until one fine morning a bright little girl with the aura of life came to the village to witness the carnival of hope. Amidst the colors and the crowd, she saw the boy – drenched in his thoughts and lost in the daze. As he entailed his dreams, stroke after stroke onto the canvas.
The girl, intrigued by his solitude approached the boy. She stared and stared at his remarkable treasure of imagination, his art… his soul.
Unaware of her presence, the boy kept painting – scribbling his mind on the board.
The girl kept looking, until the boy finished his work and was amazed to find her gazing at his recent masterpiece with appreciating eyes. For a moment, the world made sense and then faded away. As the girl explained what she saw in the dream he had so beautifully illustrated. She saw his soul through his eyes, she understood the meaning of every color and every stroke weaved into the painting. She knew his pain.
And so the days went by…

The boy had found a voice.
A companion who explained to the world what he thought and dreamt.
They went from places to places, villages to villages, inspiring people of all ages. Happy was the boy, and happy was the soul…

The world of men is a wicked place… where what seems is hardly what happens. The boy could paint a thousand pictures to stir an array of emotions, but the little girl now craved a voice she could talk to. And so one fine morning, she left with the aura of life – disappeared into the carnival of hope, in search of a voice to talk to.

What happened to the boy after that? No one really knows, but it is said that the colors of his canvas engulfed his heart and the power of his pain… paved his path. Unknown to the world and away from the soul… he still lurks between the shadows of reality to seek what he had lost and cherish what he had found.

Obsession claimed the colors.

BAD TASTE 'N MUSIC

Dr. Douche-bag created a criminal in his science lab.The world stood in terror as the generation before us lost their balance.Hundreds of happy meals stormed through the streets, singing their songs of hell.Ting-a-ling, Ting-a-ling.

 

Rallying along in leathers and fur coats, the raving herds rocked the town. While away went the children to hide in their television sets.The greater of the lords held his hand up high... and the hordes of the fallen came to a halt."Oh you Biebers and Bastards of this race! Behold the ultimate weapons of mass-consumptions! Our all-powerful synthesized fruit salads and processed frozen yogurts."He looked at the captain.He looked back at him and uttered painfully,"We shall bring unto this land an abomination unknown to vainkind."

"Hail!" said the crowd.

"Baby Please!" said Bieber.

"Damn!" said the monkey.

 

One little girl woke up to the sounds of madness.She rubbed her eyes and peered through the clouds.The doors were nailed, the windows were black.She made her way through the twists and turns till she found herself out on the streets, where the goodie-bags of the last century assembled their creed.She stopped at the thresholds and looked at the mighty morons mimicking their elders."Where are all my friends?" she asked.The greater of the lords hushed the crowd.He looked at the puny girl."We are your friends, little girl." He said with the voice of a thousand men.The girl looked at the greater lord and shook her head. She didn't know better."My friends are not so big." said the innocent little girl.

"For shizzle" said the captain.

"Hoorah!" said the monkey.

 

"But you see, the bigger they get… the better they sell." whispered the greater lord to the girl."What are you talking about, mister?" the girl blinked her eyes."We are talking about fresh meat! Bacon and Broccoli! Fries and Fingerfish!" the captain tried to speak sense. 

The monkey was crying.

The girl was confused.

The crowd was lost.

The captain had some juice. 

 

"Come join us you futile female. Become our special menu! Let us serve you to the world!" greater lord said."We are the future, we are the taste! We are music to your ears! We are your demons of your mind! We believe in you…in credit and mushroom salads!" said the captain with eyes full of ketchup and curly fries.The monkey peed his pants.The crowd waved and rattled.

"Bitch please!" said the Doctor.

"Help!" said Beiber.

"Yuck!" said the captain.

"Fuck!" said the little girl.