Night Light

Is there anything as terrifying

As an irrational fear of the dark?

Is that truly where the monsters play

And the Demons leave their mark?

 

Not just a frightened child’s torment

Or a figment of wild imagination

Never ever can it be honestly said

That this dread is of minds creation

 

Age or gender is of no consequence

When referring to matters of dark oblivion

For the creatures of the blackened realm

Exist within or without absolute obsidian

 

Truth be told they are always there

Needing not the shadows to hide inside

Free to roam under a midnight sky

Yet uncompelled to be nighttime’s bride

 

What you must understand as wholly true

Is that what lurks in obscurity just out of sight

Is not only the horror of what cannot be seen

But also thrives alongside us in the light

Machine Head

Can you hear it?

Some would say it is the sound of progress

I beg to disagree

I hear it as nothing more than a dissonant cacophony

The gears turning

No more oil to be applied to the squeaky wheel

Begging for attention

It gets overlooked as the madness overwhelms

The clock ticks

As numerous cogs spin in a pointless frenzy

Inner compass dead

Cracked and crippled without clear direction

Pushing and pulling

One side not knowing the purpose of the other

Grinding and screeching

This is surely the sound of progress denied

Smokestacks billow

Thoughts of growth and development fuel the fire

Belly of the beast

Ravenous for our never ending pursuit of futility

Fed very well

By the rapidly declining machine head