Late Night Thoughts

Oskar Groot
For you cannot drown your pain
For you cannot drown your pain
Merely submerge it, for now
For now
Is the time to forgive
Once more you will live
For forever, for eternity
Let me
Tear apart the chains of silence
That render you shell shocked from unspeakable violence
Inside your head
This will be the last time you fled
From battle
Tell yourself each night
That the darkest eve reveals the brightest light
You will shine, my comrade
My brother in arms
I will have a magazine of bullets rain through my sorrow chest
And pierce my sorrow soul, before I let you fall cold
For this trench is muddy
Gory
All these bodies too young
You will not be one
I insist
Thought it is inevitable to hurt
We enlist
To get treated like dirt
It is life,
We can only die if we are alive
But die with your head held high
Love with no tears in your eye
Forever refuse the slavery of your past
And then,
At last,
You can die

The Human Race

The race is on
From womb to tomb
We try to sprint this marathon
Before we know it
We are no longer kids
Without a care in the world
Configuration of the world we see
A malleable mind sets you free
But as you move into a period of transition
Everything is different
All is a symbolism, in some way shape or form
We think so much, do you fit the norm?
Flash!
And you are grown up
Looking down with a frown
But forward with optimism
No respect for time
A scandalous crime
For such a thing can never be returned
It is intensely burned,
Like the fuel we pour into our machines that we use to take us through life, quicker
Must be faster
By the blink of an eye
All time is gone, disaster
So yes, stare at your wrinkly face
It is your prize for winning the human race

The valley of silence

the valley sits between the monstrous mountains
which tower above, demanding greatness
and the clouds surround, pleading for acceptance
begging
neven birds dare soar so astray
and so they lay,
in the valley of silence, far below
the place where people nor care to know
or dare to show themselves
so man sits ignorantly on his porch
and the mellow moans of saxophones brass throat
pierce the infinite silence and thunder through the valley
it roars.
Through his innocent spectacles he stares at the spectacle
and bows down to it
he is merely a man, after all
and the mountain maintains to diminish him to a slave
but the man will behave
he will not hunt the mountain, he shall not climb
he is aware that over so much time
these shards of rock have been forcd throughearth
passionately sculpted this surface of which he sits upon
so the man knows he is less
and with the absence of bitterness
he sings back to the monstrous mountain
for the music rings in it
it floods its sharp, protrusive construction
and the master, the mountain
will do no destruction