Transmission #2 (No Hope)

The Man Who Damned Them All

Your favored sons and daughters could call you father.

All others-forced to call you king.

You proudly held both titles, but were worthy of neither.

Dictating and commanding love and respect,

Unfairly earned to then rule with closed fists and open threats.

In time, those beholden to you fled.

When it became clear that you would never have an equal,

Those bound by blood followed after.

So your kingdom became barren, cold, and filled only with your anger.

Loudly echoing through the halls and reverberating through your being.

Eventually the anger boiled into a poison when there were none to receive your ire,

And so your body turned on who it could. It turned on you.

The pain you so desperately wished to inflict caught within your bones.

Vulgarities for ears that had long stopped listening, caught at your throat until you frothed and choked.

Is a King a King when he finds himself bowed and broken?

Is a loathed King who demands help the same as an adverse father who expects it from his children?

Regardless, in humiliating pain you reached out to those you had hurt seeking comfort and peace.

Slaves to bonds and ties, they answered.

and suffered with you as you plunged your house into war anew

No surprise. But also no king, barely a father. If only a sire of my own sire.

No man, a shell of a man, but taught a valuable lesson still.

~~~~~

Godammit

Chemical dreams and toxic blood streams

but your lips stayed just as sweet

to my chagrin

Midnight driving, enthralled by the tune of unsubstantial siren

She is not there and I will chase the lure like a fish until it is too late

Impale the hook betwixt my breasts in the hope you’ll pull me closer

A moronic sign of devotion to a being so blind it is deaf to prayer or cries

Never enough, fighting for only a moment.

Eventually fearing eternal imprisonment in the cage of your desperate need for a warm body

Trapping me with words that bite like iron and draw blood and devotion still.

Such stupid people

The fool and the ghost, what a pair.

One believes, and even dreams, that the other is still there.

Clinging to skewed memories, a venom drunken eagerly from a bottle

Living in the past, aware of the present, and no thought or hope for tomorrow

Because both know it does not matter that it will not come

because they are already long gone.