Tick... Tock...

My paint is blood and the body is my canvas; Drip... Drip... Drip...
Hear my artwork form.
I sing with Anguish and History is my lyric; One... Two... Three...
Listen to my Rhythm Grow.

My masterpiece spreads chaos and armies march to my rhythm.
From my mouth spill lies and truths half told.
From my eyes Death watches only waiting to grab hold.

You cannot keep sane in this world I create. Voices penetrate
your ears while my pupils grow unending, unnerving even the
strongest wills and making brave souls cower inside their husks.

My world will engulf this, My visions will become reality. Angels
will fall from the heavens, wings ablaze with Hell-Fire. My demented
murmurs forever in your thoughts will drive you over the edge.

The ground will Freeze while the sky Burns. Souls will form Rainbows
pouring blood into the seas and all the while a clock will be ticking;
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
Forever keeping Rhythm as my Masterpiece marches on.



With a single great breath I blow it all away; The Charcoal trees uproot
from the Basalt ground, Sulfur wind tearing at cracked faces. As my air
flows past you, Silence Descends. The beat of the march finally ends.
Blessed Silence Descends...
And Crushes.

The life drains from this tortured place, color washes away in torrents.
In the Silence that falls not a single note of beauty can be spoken...
not a single line written...
When Suddenly Drawn From Paper Comes! nothing.

In this White-Wash landscape devoid as the vacuum of space...
creatures exist but blend featureless... Sounds are made without
ears to receive them... and Sanity is nothing more than a Myth.



How does it feel,
Without the sense of feeling?
What does the mind do,
When starved of stimulation?

Does It grow angry at the empty, crying for destruction?
Or can It see the potential I see... int this abyss of nothing?

When someone sees my Creation;
White-Light refracts through prisms,
crafted of their Minds.
Again growing new life...
Unfathomable Beauty begins to Ignite.
Creation is the Energy that Burns them.

I do not watch this happen...
I am in a blissful trance.
Drowning the universe in the sands of time, enhancing perspective
while my Ideals continuously unwind.


As I return to my body, senses assault my mind; The White-Wash Land
has grown Color... Spectacular Emerald Trees throwing Sanguine Shadows
over the ground on which I stand, on which I listen...

An Orchestra of Nature plays a peaceful tune; Crimson Woodpeckers
drilling their staccato beat in perfect time with the Singing
Blue-jays and Whistling Wind...

And I am deeply moved by this new world...
Because For this mystical place to be...
Someone had endured Insanity...
As it Burned away their reality...
And replaced my Realm of Solitary...
With such Pure and Simple Beauty.

As Peace settles over my Being, and my eyes begin to close...
a new sound reaches my ear.
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
Falling in sync with the Woodpeckers, as they rip at Men instead
of trees...
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
The whistling wind carries the stench of Rotting Corpses and
War Machines over this Morbid Forest...
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
Blue-jays turn to Crows, cawing in a hungry Cadence...
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...
Forever in rhythm My Masterpiece Marches On.