It's raining, it's pouring

Breath deep, exhale, your lungs are in the cold sky. The beautiful white shimmers in the full moons light. The weight make you feel the need, the weight makes you feel important, it makes you feel as though you may have something to offer. It makes you feel the strain on your legs and the coming defeat. Yet you push as your muscles scream, telling you that you can't and must not go on. Looking down on the earth and up at the sky you realize to leave life go and take it as things come, pushing through like the piker commanded to march on through the muck and the grit. You are the first line and nothing will pass.
As always I remain,
The Destroyer of Worlds

soft steps

It's three and my home reverberates with silence. A calm silence that envelops you like a small child in a blanket. A silence the I have missed one which allows my mind to drift off and play. I think and I imagine. I remember and I laugh uncontrollably aloud. A comforting silence that only ever comes in the dead of night. A gift left for those who lay awake or for those who activity seek it. Thought the peace is beautiful it would truly be nothing with out it's equal and opposite the other side, the seeds my mind and allows me to dream.
As always I remain,
the Destroyer of Worlds

All debts are final

The street light blinds as the man steps out from shadow. A whispered word of warning the man speaks, his voice falls short of an audience. Still speaking wanting the silence only he can bring. Sadly he listens to what so many chant and jabber as they pass his soapbox, a podium of the poor. The pedestal he use to raise above above all others thought a shovel and sad hole could have done him a better turn. If voice where to leave could he return to the dark world he come from, the world where he was free of sin and let to be what he was before his mouth was ever opened. The man stands quiet in his thoughts, he stands pennant, silent and regretful of the voice the lead him astray. Only a plea permeates him lips. One of forgiveness, that someday his words could be forgotten.
As always I am,
The Destroyer of Worlds

Absolutely nothing

A familiar rhythm interrupted, eyelids open, breathing changes the white noise that surrounds him. The comforting song that nearly lulled to sleep the peace that had not been felt in some time was gone. She moves her hand slowly and quietly down to her phone checking the time as the sun beings to rise. He wants to reach out, hold on to this time and not let second another leave. He is tried wanting to rest a little while longer but leaves fearing his welcome has been over stayed. She says something to him but he can't hear for the sound of the door closing yet he walks away opting for the sound of gravel under his feet over that of her voice. The birds sing and the warm sun rises.

As always I remain,
The Destroyer of Worlds

Plastic rain poncho

The road curves and I accelerate into the turn. Gravity pins me to my seat and I smile. The sun shines down on the ocean as it beats against the jagged cliff below. Twist and turn one hundred feet up fifty back down. I can't help but to think of some sort of defiant possibly deviant mind looking and pointing at the cliff, saying "there, that's where we build boys", I laugh. The warm sea air blows throw the window and dances through my hair. I forget and I leave my world, let my thoughts drown softly in the ocean like the sun that is now setting in the distance. Racing upward I turn my back to the sea ready to defend my peace waiting for a return that I hope never to come.
As always I remain,
The Destroyer of Worlds

Maybe next time I can think with my head and not my ass

"Ok, just take a deep breath", I tell my self "everything will be better once you do", I add... It's not, things aren't better. My hand shakes as I reach up to rest my head. It's not better. The questions begin to race through me head, why did I go through with this? I'm sitting in some random parking lot across from a rundown hotel in some small B.C. town, the halfway point in a trip that is not going nearly as smoothly as it should have. I'm alone in a area that would not normally bother me, doing something that has always allowed me to relax and yet I feel a strong fear inside. A fear that might only be silenced by the familiar voice of a friend or loved one. Nothing to hear but cars as they roll on past, off to do what ever one does in a small town such as this. No nothing for me here but more time to think, to worry and so I move on.
The Destroyer of Worlds
(So I lied, but I couldn't help but to write)

Lucky Thirteen

A paved highway transforms to a dirt road, and a dirt road changes to an old path through the trees. A path that has been walked by so many others, but it is still new to you. I sit here every day and I think. I just think and I sit but that is all that has been done. I try to top what has already been placed and I push back the branches but I can no longer see the path that once lay before me. When I first start this blog topics would come easy to me stories would unfold before me and now I have drained my muse to nothing. I have enjoyed write for you and I hope you have enjoyed reading. I cannot continue to keep this blog up without going in a direction that I truly do not want to go. So I leave it behind like so many ruins that once held meaning and purpose to those who built them but now just hold decay and speculation for they're true purpose. One thing is certain and undeniable...
Always and ever I am The Destroyer of Worlds

Those kids and their glue

A cold night moon lit night, a fresh clean blanket of snow lay to cover the ground. An old man is walking down a dimly lit alleyway, staggering side to side. The old man's face covered by over grown hair and his eyes are tried, and faded. His refuge from the cold in a brown paper bag. A bottle always held the answers to his life's problems, though he knows it caused more then solved. He feels the nip of cold on his face and the bitting pain on his feet the beginnings of frostbite, the man takes a swig to numb. He thinks and wonders how long since sleep has taken him or has at least rested his legs. Finding a place out of the wind he sits and tries to close his eyes for a little while, but a cold hand continues to shake him a wake. The old man cold, weary and with bottle in hand gets up and staggers on into the cold night searching for rest that is never to be found.
As always I remain,
The Destroyer of Worlds

A fly in an ice cube

Close your eyes. It's quiet now, you can sleep. While the world is awake you sleep. You sleep and dream. Bright rooms give way to darkened passages. Feeling your way through the dark. You find your way to a great hall with an enormous banquet table. The table is filled corner to corner with dishes, and any variety of treat that one can imagine. On either side of the table line filled with people carrying the dish that they made. They eagerly wait for their dishes to be tasted, judged, and found fit to join the rest on the table. You stand in line with your specialty in hand. You shuffle along in line closer and closer to the front. You're close to the front now and you can see the judge, you realize that it's a pig, just a simple pig consuming every thing it sees and there by is judged fit for the table. You smile stepping up, holding your dish out proudly waiting for it to be sampled. The pig sniffs it a few times, it takes a bite... the mouth full is spat out, it spoils and rots as it hits the ground. The next person steps up, the pig shoves it's snout into the dish, devouring it in it's entirety.
As always I remain,
the Destroyer of Worlds