Humans are made of all sorts,
A host of exotic ingredients,
Sugar spice and some things not so nice,
Herbs and poisons,
Garlic and cyanide,
Ore and gemstones,
Don’t forget the dead flesh,
The recipe isn’t always followed,
Or perhaps one doesn’t exist,
No human is a carbon copy,
The ingredients act in flux,
The outcome always a coin toss,
Sometimes an angel emerges from the hearth,
Other times a devil.
We are spawned as a blank slate,
With no rhyme or reason,
A doll not yet painted,
A straw fetish not yet burned,
We’re a biological puzzle,
A mutable disasterpiece,
We shift and grow over the years,
Mutated by our experiences,
Adapting bodily to lifes toils,
Given hardier scales after each betrayal,
Sharper talons and fangs for every struggle,
Sprouting wings to follow our dreams,
Each of us adapts differently,
The beauty and horror of nature,
Decade after decade,
And trial after challenge,
We keep evolving,
Until we finally go extinct.
Who can put us down the worst?
Whom do you think?
Those closest to us of course,
Our inner circles,
They indeed have the most volatile ammo,
The most cutting,
Friends know things that enemies only guess,
They know our weaknesses,
The nicks in our cuirass,
Whether intended or not,
They can get the closest with the blade,
And strike the most vital zones,
Keep friends close,
And enemies closer they say,
But a knife is still a knife.
He comes,
In blood red overcoat and fedora,
The ultimate vampire,
A count of the night,
Now a leashed hellhound,
The charge of Sir Hellsing,
And subject to her majesty,
Hunting his own kind,
By bullet or blood magic,
The things that go bump in the dark,
Get bumped right back,
Even in the most inky of nights,
He comes.
There once was an empire,
Lost in time,
Where bodily autonomy was fiction,
Profaned by a cult of suffering,
A power structure built upon hate,
Ivory towers built upon little girls backs,
This empire had been divided long ago,
Called united only by the mad,
Its women failed by those on high,
Some condemned to death or abuse,
Some reduced to incubators,
Liberty swiped by old men,
Evil is the herald of an empires collapse,
Some courts hear no justice,
And lessons are never learned,
Domination is not unity,
Red white and blue stained in ash,
The flag doesn’t represent the whole,
So rightly protest dear sisters,
Like Rome and Xerxes before it,
All empires fall,
And just like the Ostrogoths of old,
It’ll be torn brick by brick,
Burned down by its women.
Daily life is a constant grind,
A never-ending rotation,
An ouroboros,
A snake chewing on its own tail,
Day after day,
Bleeding like venom into the next,
And just like a serpent,
It’s cold and relentless,
Already piercing the flesh of the next day,
A treadmill coated in ichor,
Seeping into our veins and hearts,
The days wear away at us,
And we succumb eventually,
Venom gets its way.
Heed this message,
Lady Lunar sees all,
Watching from her ballroom of constellations,
Her cold eyes falling upon us,
Like a gravitational force,
Though her face be pockmarked and severe,
The moon must have a heart,
She sees all of our vice,
Our innate enmity,
And doesn’t choose to end us,
Through tidal waves or disdain,
Or falling upon us in apocalyptic fashion,
She could but resists the urge,
She remains our guardian,
Foil to her nuclear sister.
We all have a drake wrapped about us,
Like a scaled shawl,
The regal emerald of opulence,
It speaks poisonous globules into your ear,
Greed and want and thievery,
A forked tongue caressing your lobe,
It wants you to take,
And take again,
Despite what the lizard whispers,
You mustn’t covet all,
You can’t possess the world,
You don’t own that treasure,
Or that heart,
You can’t count the worlds coins,
Don’t heed the hissing of the green dragon,
Just be your pure self.
WorldofHarley 