Escaping the witches cauldron

Here I sit in your cauldron
Obsidian black and heating up
Here I sit I watch you spellbinding
Other poor victims over time.
I smell your wicked intentions
I Keep her wondering what evil lives here
I smell the odoriferous rancour
Of decay and musty foulness.
There is a bittersweet tang of death
One of previously boiled flesh
The hag with putrid breath
Draws near with her sharp fangs
And knotted grey and black hair
With insects crawling in there
Evil personified without a care
Go up against her if you dare
And be transported to simply share
A life of torment and suffering
I feel now the water boiling
I await my time await to strike
I hope yet to strive and survive
But the cauldron has a spellbinding hold on me
And is designed not to let me free
And I feel myself melting by degrees
Slowly, slowly I succumb to my fate
Death is near and the afterlife awaits
Which I gladly embrace as I turn to spirit
I see the door and I walk through it
And as the witch cackles at what she is doing
I use my spiritual energy to strike at her heart
I strike her by degrees in half with a spirit shaft
So putting an end to her witchcraft.

Choices

They sell us a belief of choice

But where is the choice

When the only voice

Is a construct by and aged old system

Out of date and lacking distinction

And though it acts like it has conviction

It repeats the same old restrictions

Limiting our freedom through guilt and fear

Protecting an establishment it holds dear

This choice is a delusional dream

Based around a controlling theme

That manipulates both you and me.

Truth hidden by society

Shit in the bath

Piss in a bucket

A life that screams

I don’t care, fuck it

Mental health issues

And self destructive dreams

I entered the rooms

Of a fly ridden scene

Wow! I think

Hiw did I get this job

Clearing the debris

Of some poor sod

A victim of society

So much for care in the community

I am here to clean and clear

Erase this shit stained smear

Of a life of suffering

A life of the pure tormented

Spiritually lost and demented

Wow! The stink

It gets in your senses

As all the excrement is fermented

This is the bitter reality of life

Something which society hides

Once I’ve left and its cleared and clean

The place will be refurbished into a tenancy dream

But it won’t solve those who fall between

The cracks of a twisted society

That cares to little and caused this obscene scene

And I am the poor bastard who steps into to clear and clean

Then disappears into the background anonymously.

End of the party

The party ended and there’s just a mess left to clear

Everybody was there when the party was in full flow

But when things calmed down they all started to go

Now it’s all very quiet and nothing much is left

Except the remnants of the discarded mess

It’s a metaphor for life and when you’re sitting in your home alone

It’ll resonate profoundly and you will then know

That the party is over, who knows if more are to come

But at the moment there’s clearing up to be done

By you on your own.

The principle of living

The principle of living

Is the most abract thing in life,

The things that we posit

Can be a two sided knife,

Either way you can get hurt,

Either way you can suffer pain

But if your head don’t drop, then you’ll be back again,

Slam it and banging it

All these aberrations do not need to last,

Focus in the present

Let your dilemmas fade to the past

Which is defined by the charactarists of what it is that resides within,

Some may choose to aspire

While others hold their heads low and keep their hopes in check,

Some seek emancipation and fight until their final breath

While many will slip away unnoticed into anonymous deaths,

A sad indictment of this life and the duality of what is left

From not making our own decisions

But leaving it to someone else,

The outcome of the life we leave behind is created by our self,

So ensure you forge a story of a kaliderscope of colourful wealth.

In verbatim

In verbatim

I recalled frustrations,

That destroyed many nations

Arousing much elation

In a station far beyond creation,

I followed time with all its duration

And drowned in sweet suffocation,

At the will of mindless supplications

I am not looking at you for justification

I merely seek the resuscitation

And the reincarnation

Of ethical moralisation of life.