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DODO
Author: Jason Cooke
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DODO
The world is packed with the salted meat of the Dodo,
For all stand and await their finale, preparing themselves.
They stand in great numbers upon the shore of immortal death,
With total ignorance as to the consequences of their actions.
Death appears swinging her scythe and reaps another fine harvest,
Another group of infidels pass under her veil of wings.
Yet still they jostle for best position on the shoreline,
Each one eager to pass onwards with nothing but blind belief.
Death herself dines alone on the souls of her favourite delicasy,
The salted meat of the human shell, for it craves annihilation.
She loves the idea that she has a never ending supply of food,
How poisonous the teachings of humankind have become.
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EMMOTIONAL PAIN?
Author: Jason Cooke
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EMMOTIONAL PAIN?
Love is like the sweet taste of Heroine,
For it is addictive and leaves a cravence for more.
The highness of love is the height of orgasm,
But the finale and end of emmotional ties,
Produces the weakness and pain of a hopeless junkie.
Death is the harbinger of a far greater emotion,
For she is the eternal coffin worm,
That gnaws the bowls of the earth.
A deceasement should not be marked by pain,
But rather cause for celebration and festivity.
Desire lives in the straw house of the heart,
For she is the eternal nemesis of the alter-ego.
>From her place she pulls our strings like a puppet,
While we remain the innocent pawns of her wishes.
She is the last true sentinel of compassion,
and manipulates our ley-line nervous system,
With the ease of a master of acupuncture.
Th ego is the toy soldier ensieged within our minds,
For he is the creative force of greatness,
And the herald of mystic firebreaks.
He is the impulses of a greater pattern of thought,
But also the seed of a trojan horse.
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JASVAS
Author: Jason Cooke
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JASVAS
The cold wind of silence blows through marble halls, a chapel of rest billows incense.
There amongst the refinery rests a lone marble altar,
Upon this platform lies the body of a man.
White doves disturb the rush of air, a veil that shields blows wishfully,
Across an ivory face.
He lies state like, as the pharoah, as one with the stillness of time.
Blood, scarlett as the lips and kiss of desire, flows slowly from each eye,
Trickling downstream from it's source.
A pool of essence forms slowly around the base, lifeblood ebb'd gently away.
Death enters by a side door, stopping briefly to view and acknowledge,
Her son with tribute.
His heart that was given, free of sin, to another.
His mind shattered as the mirror image, his soul so long denied,
By foolish innocent pride.
The Trinity is broken, the time has come and passed,
A sence of being it was his last.
His shackles they could not hold him, bind him to the mast,
The spirit passes on into the eternal Vas(t).
>From his lips flows a trickle of honey, what will be will bee.
So the giant becomes a dwarf, but will the phoenix save him,
Or condemn him to a corpse...
A feast of blood for you my love, to avenge your death, to mourn a loss,
Myrtle is placed around the tomb, the finest vintage for you is poured,
Sign of the precious sacrifice yet to come.
A lock of hair placed on the altar, and look who is here the beloved Kassandra,
The wretched witch that brought your doom, death has her face in these parts.
The same dagger that killed your heart, is placed gently upon her hand...
(suicide is the best sacrifice)
This is a sacrifice for you loved one, this death has hurt more than any before.
And as her blood flows onto your tomb, open your scarlet lips and taste her,
Sweet as the honey, bitter as the poison,
Curse the moment the skies of blue, were forever marked by everlasting darkness.
Her lifeless body will no see burial, it is a sacrilege i know,
Wine will not be poured, the corpse will not find peace,
Not even under one grain of blessed soil,
Soldiers left behind will guard her rotting flesh, no mourners will shed their tears,
And as for you my brother in darkness, the most precious gift of all,
Those eyes you so longed for, I managed to take them before the Crows,
Here i have them for you to keep.
The best ebony you have ever seen will be presented to you,
Many have envied those eyes and many will envy you for having them,
It is my gift to you, shame how they they hold no answers for you now,
The drained life has left with their power, but it is the price you have to pay,
Your part in this tragedy has been rewarded.
This death has pained me more, of all the death's i have seen before,
Her prophecies were true, or did she cause them?
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NEFARIOUS RHAPSODY
Author: Jason Cooke
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NEFARIOUS RHAPSODY
Knowledge is the eye of desire,
And can become the pilot of the soul.
Your shadow, the white one,
Whom you cannot except,
And who will never forget you.
For my heart could not flee my heart,
Nor could i escape from myself.
Since wherever i ran i should be followed,
By a shade who refuses to fade to oblivion.
The clay of reality is moulded in dreams,
For i sculpt with dust and teardrops,
Painting the mask of Illusion.
Oh, but i am the visage of order,
While you remain trapped in the mirror,
Nothing more than a shade,
My insane games you have played,
Laughter echo's now fade!
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SAFE CRACKER WHO ROBS THE TOMBS OF LIVE MEN
Author: Jason Cooke
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SAFE CRACKER WHO ROBS THE TOMBS OF LIVE MEN
A shadow descended, sickyl demented,
Revenge on it's mind, an image to find.
A reflection is cast it's being is vast,
It's darkness rages bound by cages.
In darkness it prowls, sulking it howls,
Tormented and chained buried in pain.
On hope does it feed it's cancerous need,
A seed yet to flower bitter and sour.
In cell form it grows, slowly it shows,
The face of blood before the flood.
Desecrating the land, turning it to sand,
Abstracting the code where life once flowed.
Then opens the cell where life is a shell,
Escaping it flees it's moment seized.
A land of new pasture ready to be sown,
For it's name is Legion and they will feed him.
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