Don't move or make no noise.
They react to the sound.
This place was once a shopping mall,
now there's bodies all around.

Such dread!
they're searching with soulless eyes,
From sun up,until sundown!

Their broken wailing, unearthly cry.
"THE END IS NIGH!"
My picket sign once read.
I'm forced to lie here and play dead.
They search for the living-with no rest-
I'm alive because of putrid, rotting, flesh.

I dare not make a move.
in this food court.
this unholy mess.
I lie underneath defiled remains,
insides ripped out from their chest.
I dwell within these monster's nest.
Subsist beneath decaying stench of death.
It covers my scent well:
The undead react harshly
to how the living smell.

This new world-I can't tell,
Is this hell, or a fiendish fresh start?
Are they really so different?
I can't tell either world apart.
fear has always been a substance
Pumping through my old heart.
In those days I was ignored or-
they would notice,then shudder.
While folks that lived-well,
well: they ate one another.

I'd fall asleep by night.
under street lamps shivering, uncovered.
Lived my life as a ghost.
haunted those who walked by:
My picketsign.
My shaking fist.
"THE END IS NIGH!!!"
I was cast aside;I did not exist.
they refused to see me,
Notice me when i speak.
The world was a table
With no room for my seat.

Outside corner stores I'd sit with resentment.

I needed to be noticed.
Yet my efforts never got me closer
To being seen by any ONE of them:
An exquisite type of torture.

I see now so ironic, what i used to beg for:

Maybe zombies are ghosts...
that refuse to be ignored?

Maybe if that man in the store window
-he was standing next to a mannequin-
If he hadn't lost his balance...
I could've began again ...?
But that false life fell.
Futility in his attempt to flee:
They ripped out his throat
before he could even yell.
In the commotion a man with a minor creeps,
Crawling toward the exit,
for a stealthy retreat.
Oh yes! I do see it too.
There's a car parked outside,
its engine running right there in the street.

Six hundred and sixty feet.
Salvation has four wheels, power steering
and leather seats.
Something is shouting in my stomach.
Their opportunity.
Their window is closing to leave with no trace
Seconds stretch as I stand
I connect - making eyes with the man.
Him and the child hesitate.
out in the open, words aren't said,
but I can see his face deliberate.
Too late: they can't turn back.
How to sneak past that last zombie
without a face to face?
It shambles in the path of their escape.
They hide under a counter:

I think its better if that child left here safe.

See.
there is bodies, all around.
Bodies all around.
Bodies.  All.   Around.

Those dead bodies kept me a secret.
Kept me safe and sound.
It's my turn to be that for you.
I nod at the man.
Can you see me?
Witness.
Witness,what I'm about to do.

A rush.
Air fills my lungs.
All fear dissipates.
The four words I yell make the zombies irate.
  
                          " THE!!!

                             END!

                              IS.

                          NIGH!!!!!!!"

**** cretins are closing in;
My two friends sneak deftly by.

I see the man and child look back.
I pick up a baseball bat.
Safely on the street
they both wave goodbye.

                  The end is nigh.

Please notice me.

-

Crafty Waters lured the Captain
To the middle and the deep.
in the height of the hurricane,
It proceeded to speak.

"What do i matter to the birds
who exist between sky and tree?
These fish swim in my currents,
yet are unaware of me.
But for you, oh captain,
I'm everything you need me to be!
You have your ship, and your men,
and your lives at my mercy.
Today you will learn
you can't control the sea."

The dastardly Waters led him to believe,
In exchange for his life,
his crew would survive,
brief cessation from the culling winds,
and unabiding tides.
The captain decided then and there
To make the sacrificial dive.
But before he made a splash,
the hurricane came back  
and claimed his crew.
A Sage Seagull swooped down
saying," dear Captain,
those Sneaky Waters lied to you."

The trusting captain stranded,
his ship capsized,
despair in his voice,
to the clever gull he cries.
"stoic grey winged beast,
with blackened,beady eyes,
what difference does it make to you,
if a captain dies?"

The apathetic gull got close
and in a whisper replies-
"we'll trade words for fish one day,
now, repeat as I say."
The captain certain it won't help,
but he spoke them, anyway.

"Proud Waters don't you gloat!
boast about how big you pretend to be.
your power buys our fear,
turning men into memories.
But my life holds your story!
I'll tell it, if you set me free.
Am I drowning in you...
or are you drowning in me?"

Returned home.
the Captain captured fish
for the seagull to eat.
And from his lips told a story
of his time out at sea.

Still new ships think they will prevail.
Distant from diminutive land,
sailors set sail dreaming of the safety
of a mundane harbor.
Unaware of the schemes
between the Shifty Seagull

and those Maniacal Waters.

-

She gave away the best thing for less,
as if Heaven spread its gates for a garage sale.

            "But will you tell?"

I'm moving slow...
Like a snail in my approach to her.
It's best if I-I pretended like I never knew her.
She had a prada purse that screams,
"I can only do worse!"
She treated that thing beating In her chest
like a curse.
With no clue how to cure it.
Her hobby was to only corrupt the purest.

So don't call me false
in my intentions to hesitate;
from the moment our eyes connected
I knew my fate.

              "But will you tell?"

I said,"what's your name?"
To her...
"you got this vibe that makes me levitate."
she retorts, "call me breathtaking
because I make men sufficate."

But who could breathe without her?
I'd give nothing less.
I said, "for you,
I'd gladly exchange all of the air in my chest.
because time grows in seconds.
I'd spend each one I saved on you."

She responds, "i'd watch the world burn
in exchange for the view."

So don't call me false
in my intentions to hesitiate;
she hit me with words I couldn't anticipate.

I could see her.        
                                   Pulse.           Thumping.
                The.
veins in her neck.

Forced me to put.       my.
           primal instincts.
                        In check.

She told me time is incorrect.
       Its numbered by seven.

Broken into seven second increments.

Seven days in the week.

Seven deadly sins.

Seven circumstances with no right words for,
so instead we say friends.

She insisted I guess her favorite sin,
I guessed,
she said I was correct,
and then she asked,
              
    " but will you tell?"

without getting Into detail:
she sealed the deal.
Even before she unbuttoned her blouse
-her smile-
I'd made my adulterous decision:
her attention and bare skin
was the wine she used
to wash away all my inhibitions.

"So listen,"
She says...
"In between heaven's gates
are seven indiscretions no one knows about,
that trade for the seven things
you'd never sell.
Tonight they're all yours
-if you want to savor them-
but only if you won't tell,

and again,

above all else:

If you pay for them."

-

There's a secret only one angel knew.

It goes like this:

       There is a place that once grew.
             A garden made for two.

A tree.
   A treason.
      Mankind evicted from Eden,
      ... for an obscure reason.

Curious,
An angel flew down
-biting into the apple-
Adam and Eve had eaten.

Because the Lord's plan must be broken?
The Angel pressed their luck...
But ...why plant a tree,simply,to test their trust?

Now in a rush to reveal what was learned
-before they could soar past those
pearly gates-
Lurid illumination eviscerates their pristine wings.
                        
                         The Lord sees All:
                            and He is Irate.

They create a crater as they collide with our world;
exiled forever from the Lord's estate.
They awake as a woman for their costly mistake.

Her place amongst the holy host is gone.
Cursed with forbidden knowledge.
Awareness of right and wrong.
Exchanging a halo for free-will:
Heaven is no longer a place she belongs.

The Angel outcast.

Cast out from her home.
Forced to roam this world all alone.
She sought out the Truth;
Then her faith became clouded.
There is few who listen to what she says now:
yet still she shouts it.

She tells me-the former angel yells,
"Devour fruit from the Tree of Knowledge
  ...if you dare.

but beware!!

God did not plant that tree...
    
It was already there."
  
-

the secret slip of underwear
he was caught off guard; unaware
widened mouth and could only stare
gazing at her pond of ten thousand sounds,
how easy could it be,— a bit too fishy
knowing he wasn't the first to go skipping a
few rocks

but as a rock in a hard place
between a devilishly charming smile on her face,
she was, "a good friend's friend"
and he thought that made them "just friends"

and not one to play cliches
"i don't want this," he made it as clear to say
in that room at night, he wasn't interested in her,
and it was clear as day

he came only to help pen down a study report
but perhaps the con of hoping there'd be much
concentrate; were the first letters
written by her, wanting to spill ink in a little *******

                        click!

that idea was well tucked away and hidden,
like the tip of his favourite silver pen.

Darkness made clearer
By the accretion disk of a collapsed star
Gravity is a force that binds us now:
Defining how strong we are

In our weakness we could not resist
Compelled towards a rift in the sky
distorting reality
A monstrosity not even light can escape
The irony being that we can assuredly
See our fate

Time slowed down as we neared it
soon it simply froze
We sailed past the event horizon
-onward toward a secret that through fear:
not even time is willing to expose

The nose of our vessel ripped apart
Ejecting us from the safety of our ship,
"The Noah's ark"
Unable to atone for the embryos aboard
we had lost
we drifted alone,
Together,
in the dark

rushing head first
towards the heart of oblivion
The mission escaped from our mind
as tidal forces began spaghettifying our skin

This wasn't the first time
A few seconds felt like
They would never end
Our destiny swallowed
by a black hole in outer space
Consuming our only hope
to restart the human race

Yet in this place I feel peace
we are shown a secret
that no man should ever see
Right before I desist
Collapsing Into that eternal nascent sleep

Something from beyond the singularity,

speaks...

I close my eyes.


                   "Such sweet release."

The gods let this baby be born
As a thing they could reclaim
One day with cruel delay
Boils from black plague desecrated her skin
Right before her second birthday
A lesson on how a life can be stolen
Shortly after it begins
Or how we're without hope to the whims
Of the bored gods before us

To save the last of his kin
The father implored the science
Of the village sage and physicians
He was turned down at every door
Their medicine was not meant
To save the poor nor destitute
  
Resolute in his faith
there were good gods who gave grace
Unto children without sin
He next beseeched healing power
from varied institutions of the miracle men
Preyed over by priests, rabbis, and sheikhs
He sacrificed and spent
every cent he had saved
And their churches took his tithes
But did not take her pain away

Grief striken, defeated, with no recourse
Liquid sedated in a pub,he feels remorse
" our child will join you soon,
my dearest departed wife"
a pubhand overhears him saying,
"you can still save your daughter's life!"

"listen as I entail
The hidden trail you must trek
before the antelucan hour strikes
Her magiks are only ripe
in the dead of the night
Nestled within that loury forest
Her cabin obscured from mortal sight
Resides an occultist of such cunning:
A bog witch named Blight"

The pubhand helped him to more mead for free
Unprompted he then proceeds to lead
The father through that place he now seeks
-claiming his shift had come to an end
As they drew closer to the cabin
Something happened most curious and queer
The pubhand turned into a black cat,
Scurried off into the brush- to dissappear

Influenced by fermented spirits in his blood
He pays heed to their whisper
-Her cabin door is ajar
And they beckon he enter

Now in Blight's place of power with his offspring.

"oh hapless father when you sing,
How the gods do smile
You worshipped the very ones
who wish to **** your only child
they're vile and malcontent
All they know are delinquent tendencies
They'll torture her spirit for sport,
When she dies you see
But by my incantation
That needn't come be"

"drain the blood of a bat
with deviant intent
Recant the name of your gods;
You now resent  
The blood will brew all the while
-in my elixir
When the little girl drinks:
it will fix her
It will turn her pale white
You will fear she has perished
She will stalk this earth
Forever parched with ravenous thirst
And a stark aversion to sunlight
NOW YOU MUST CHOOSE:
A dead child!
...or a creature of the night?"

The father did as directed
He did not second guess
Unaware of the sorceresses subtle gesticulations
-Were creating a hex
He's blind to machinations set in motion long ago
The wiccan pours her will into a binding circle
As the child drinks the concoction slow

His daughter's vitality returns
The plague is receding
Fangs sprang forth
as she bites into her father's neck
Blood trickles down in specks
The girl keeps feeding
And feeding

all gods once assembled to fight Blight
The powerful mad goddess would direct
her sadistic debauchery at their human subjects
-human praise appealed to the god's vanity-
Her godhood sealed by the Parthenon
in a prison comprised of flesh
Divinity bound;
betrayed by other gods
There were too many for her to resist
A former god trapped in mortal form
Blight's punishment was to simply exist

For 300 years Blight had waited for a night like this
An ancient curse she could wield
As revenge for imprisonment
Finally obtaining the last two ingredients:
A child that was pure
And a father's consent

A direct strike of lightning sets Blight's cabin ablaze  
still in her binding circle, she's indifferent
And unphased
From threats of fearful deities who see
She's about to set her nocturnal creations free
Undeterred by their show of force
she releases her two vamps
with a flick of her wrist and no remorse

Iightning strikes within an inch of Blight
She leers at the heavens
Much defiance and mirth
In the distance a village screams
As her fiends burn it down to the dirt

The Parthenon replies:
Bellowing cumulonimbus clouds
decries her decision
Such chaos;
now her scheming REALLY has their attention
The.Ones.Who.Watch. Above

See all.

Throughout panoptic thrones they peer
pained fury for this village culling:
Blight jeers
Sanctimonius thunderstorm brings fervent rain
Their vain,pious tears-
The skies can not contain

The gods cry.

"Oh, how i wonder what will worship gods then,
When humanity dies?"

Luminous surges of lightning bolts strike
Tries to smite this emboldened bog witch
...Yet, in spite of their wish,
she somehow stays unhurt...

Blight smirks.

All the pain a man could muster in his lifetime:
Compressed to a minute.
Then, send it scattershot through the airwaves.
A morose melody. A lovely female voice inflects....
"May I override your rationality and reason?"
Imprints a depression on the mind;
a rope around the deckhand's neck.
Does her voice now command your neocortex?
Yes, but deeper still: it denigrates.
Instills an insistence toward apathy:
existential treason.
musical notes denote a debt to be paid.
They accept just the one currency.
Trade melancholic fervor for nihility...
A payment must be made.
Posit the ship is a sojourn in deep water.
Feeling A sorrow you can't adjourn.
How quickly you will learn:
Jumping overboard
CAN be an act of kindness.
A slave to that recalcitrant sorrow.
Jetsam yourself to lighten the load on your psyche:
It's ideal over facing another tommorow.

Seafaring folk
assume a siren's song is beautiful.

I felt The Earth shake when she sung.
There goes the air from my lungs.
What more to give? Here.
Borrow my body and tongue.
Sitting in the auditorium
of my own soliloquy.
This state of mind is anti-reverie.
Your falsetto sonnet showed memories.
My family.My mishaps.
An altercation out of ennui-with my father.
Before he left,that last thing he said to me...

But.

Why WAS he levied into conflict
over Antioch?
On a whim prescribed, of course;
The pope demanded A crusade on sin.
Father died inside the walls of Jerusalem.
Bled out fighting alongside other mortal men:
Father, is your heaven more beautiful,
than your grand daughter's grin?

Captain has seven sailors hold me still.
I am suppressed inside the fo'c'sle.
He counts down from sixty:
"Let us see if time sets him straight."
A siren's enthrall doesn't agitate long.
Yet,
Even after the weight of it lifting,
it leaves you forlong.
Sometimes-I still feel-
underwater...is that where I truly belong?

Seafaring folk
assume a siren's song is beautiful.
                          I know better.

A violent storm materializes from otherwise
sunny, fair weather.
I guess the myths of the Tempest here are true:
It attacks ships sailing near the fabled
isle Revenir.
Until then,for my own safety,
I had been enroute to the brig.
"All hands on deck
(including me and my captors)
Secure those loose rigs.
Batten down the hatch.
Cap'n is going to steer us-
Right through this Tempest's heart!!"
Steady now.
Or his hubris will tear the ship apart.

I felt indifferent as waves
pummel us relentlessly.
Contrite as our vessel
won its war with the sea.

                   I jump overboard.

Instant remorse.
Father, can your God please alter my course?
A mistake.
This can't be my legacy.
I'm sinking.
Because of what a siren sung.
I can't breathe. Feel water filling in my lungs.
Siren,take what you won
then leave me undone.
I'm sinking.
Is this how I meet my end?
Shimmer from the sunlight fades
as I descend.
Sinking.
And I'll never be found...
My fear, my flailing. My failure to float.
the ocean swallows it all,
ingurgitates my hope.
Is this how you felt?
Facing your ill-fated destiny?
Father.
You always tried-and failed -to quell my misery.
That last thing you said...
Preaching your god's salvation as remedy.

                        I'm sinking.

All along its been my sorrow
that's drowning me.

-

"Daddy. Wake up. You had a  big fall! Don't leave please, can you see me? You must come back! Don't look into the light, it will take you from me!"

The only sad part of this world is our languages serve no purpose!
Everyone and everything made no sense. Besides my own child. His appearance, not effected by this place.  All friends and family presented before me, were grey and  the weight of sadness was strong, with the stillness from silence filling the air. For some odd reason, I could scream and rage. But couldn't speak my son's name!


No, other place felt like home!

From the day, my visit with the realm of white

was short-lived.

My son's gentle voice

Strong enough to shatter the silence and brighten the dimness of environment. Floating in the abyss, until my soul established connection...


Back to this living hell once again! Flying through timelines, to ensure my detached spirit  have it's reunion with my body!

My guardian angel told me

"Release yourself, from all that hurt you.

The pain is only an illusion and it is temporary."

I hugged onto my savior. Feeling my light fade, remembering how beaten and broken I was.

Every word dripped with blood, fighting against the pain to stay awake. Breathing was forced, this is NOT to be of the life

I once had love for...

I could hear my voice and perpetual thoughts, along with that of family members,  running and slamming into another!

Breaking the atmosphere of this unearthly dimension. All in high efforts to reach out to me! No documentary or biography on a big screen compared, to seeing multiple lifelines flash before your eyes. Knowing it's all coming to an end, although the checkpoint served as a deciding point for another rare chance.  Just for that desired taste, for a bittersweet victory.

Regardless, if I would have fought back during battle.  There would have been a war.

What would have stayed the same?  

Would any difference have changed the outcome?

Is there an escape from this pain?

I never asked for this!

I didn't even have, a chance to make a fist! Two fools wanting to be Mr Big Dog, Mr Big S*, all in hands of my disposal,  were aimless words in my defense!

If I knew then what was known now. I would have,  gave you no option to call anyone willing to help you on your checklist!


My eyes were brimming with tears of anger. The glow from
my new found home slowly leaving me as while peacefully carrying myself away.

"Free myself? In a world shrouded in darkness. I lived for light! Empowered by Faith, and Hope to make amends so Karma will not interfere with destiny!
Forgive and accept, I am the one  left with regrets to bring the strongest of angels to their knees, to have a final moment to wept!"

Do you wish to be free? You may not come back as the same. The world is not ready for you to fall." The angelic voice soothe the sound of commotion of the thoughts and voices. It became background noise, instead of overpowering.

"Perhaps, I won't fall. If you let me go. It's fine. It was my decision! I am ready! I do not fear the fall, sorrow put a deafening hold on aspirations.  It's all or nothing. It was Isaiah I needed to protect. This wasn't possible as human, I was ready to surrender any part of myself!

I give my light in just to master what was feared most.

Darkness.


It was my turn to fly!

Seeing the alarming expression on my guardian's angel's face shift from confident to worried, and then accepting.

Falling so fast, even an angel of light
could not respond quick enough to save me.


My grasp purposely broken, to save and prove "Love" can save in all terms on any magnitude.  
I  realized, it's best to compromise and be a sacrifice!

My vision was consumed by the black energy, pouring from my overworked heart.

...

"Hey wake up....
You fell asleep Mr....
Are you okay?"


an innocent voice of a loved one filled my ears once again.

It was my son! I was lost in his glowing and reflective eyes, unaware on how he speaks, to me as if he didn't know of my identity. Fascinated with the fact my appearance increased in muscle mass, my eyes appeared more vicious and intimidating.  
Even my clothing were different, in a place where you never believe clothing would exist!
I was in a grey shirt, and blue jeans stained with blood. When I first encountered, Isaiah and my guardian angel.  Now, I am wearing all black button up, paired with black formal dress pants, along with matching shoes.

My height was equivalent to Slenderman and felt like my hands were strong enough to pick up people like marbles.

The painful breaths subsided.
My essence felt stronger.

"Be free but don't allow yourself to fall. If light fails to convince, we can give the darkness a try."

The duality between a gruff voice a masculine voice combined with a feminine nurturing voice in unison. Played like my favorite symphatetic melody, singing beautifully in the back of my mind.

I knew I was alive. The complexities of my body, were running in adrenaline mode.

Everything felt, powerful and responding to all my worries suddenly, felt instinctive.

My hand gently placed on my son's shoulder. I kneeled down on one knee, staring into the eyes of my beloved son. Feeling my own voice running, with the flow of new found energy revitalized in my stronger body.

"Isaiah...remember my promise?" I said with flowing waves of happiness, while smiling carefree.

"Daddy...?"
Isaiah said with a surprising smile, his eyes glistened with tears of happiness.

"I will always be free." I started

Without you, I will never fall!"
we both said together, with a brief laugh, we hugged each other and the light from the realm finally returned us home.

It only took a few days for you to seep into my mind and reside in the darkest parts.
But once I knew you were there, I didn't try to rid of you.
No, you gave yourself to me and I accepted you with open arms and an empty stomach.

Like a parasite you ****** the life out of me.
You wore me down to where I napped three times a day.
My stomach never satisfied; either empty or stuffed.
My period stopped for five months.
Stomach pains worse than any pain I’ve experienced before.
Living in a constant fear that my stomach acid would burn a hole through my esophagus.

But you didn’t let any of these ailments stop us.
You taught me to embrace them, they needed to happen.
You convinced me to enjoy the pain I inflicted to myself.
Just collateral damage to the ultimate goal of thinness.
You pushed me so far deep inside my head, I was separated from the shell of my body.
I couldn't recognize myself, I deserved to be nobody.
But I didn’t know that then, you told me that was exactly who I was supposed to be, the real me.

And I believed you.