By Friars Well

 

It's a nowhere place, where you'll never be

Or even contemplate to find, or ever see

It's just a field, by a hamlet, by Friars Well

A moment in time, under the summer's spell

Maybe it's one last chance, before the ploughs

For me to leisurely cross, for this track allows

So feet fall firmly, on stubble and sun baked mud

Traversing to the other side, from where I stood

And when I'm there, yonder, I won't look back

As the way's ahead and there's no time, to slack

For it's a nowhere place, it's just an empty field

Where you'll never be, for in the past, it's sealed

Lord Of Dung

 

Be-el.Be-el-ze.Be-el-ze-bub.Beelzzzebub.BeHellzebub.Beelzebub

Thrumming, humming, blackening skies

Rejoice! Rejoice! The Lord of Flies

Be-el.Be-el-ze.Be-el-ze-bub.Beelzzzebub.BeHellzebub.Beelzebub

A fixer for fear, with wrath he'll smite

Torturing lost souls, for pleasure and spite

Be-el.Be-el-ze.Be-el-ze-bub.Beelzzzebub.BeHellzebub.Beelzebub

King of chaos, rouser of, the direst, doubt

Pestilence enabler, purveyor of drought

Be-el.Be-el-ze.Be-el-ze-bub.Beelzzzebub.BeHellzebub.Beelzebub

He'll raise Hell's fires, for the world to warm

Plague with locusts, for him, they'll swarm

Be-el.Be-el-ze.Be-el-ze-bub.Beelzzzebub.BeHellzebub.Beelzebub

Scribed from minds, but naught was said

If you've met him, you're mad, or dead

Be-el.Be-el-ze.Be-el-ze-bub.Beelzzzebub.BeHellzebub.Beelzebub

Writhing corpses, through wringers wrung

He'll feed the maggots, the Lord of Dung

Be-el.Be-el-ze.Be-el-ze-bub.Beelzzzebub.BeHellzebub.Beelzebub

Jezebel and Ahab, spawned, Ahaziah

He died for the word, of a false messiah

Baal-Zebub

Baalzebub

Beelzebub

Cataclysmic Kaleidoscope

 

Look up, look high! Behold a sight of wonder

The panoply, of the firmament, is torn asunder

Heaven's incinerating, for the ether's, burning

And Eden's razed, but the world's still turning

Wrecked, upon magma rocks, in the sea of fire

Paradise has finally been lost, to a molten mire

The end's past nigh, but the very end's bespoke

As the air becomes, a cataclysmic kaleidoscope

Somewhere, shielded, against the infernos rage

Apocalypse enablers, survey their technophage

For it's only the living skin, that will drip like wax

As the nefarious AI delivers, the final fatal hacks

Look down, not high! And behold what lies below

Look beyond the precipice, of a searing lava flow

For Hell's, re-creation, is always forged, in flames

In a cataclysmic kaleidoscope, of self aware aims

Death's Inner Circle

 

A sigh of wind, gently caresses, the creaking rope

Unfocused glassy, lifeless eyes, are bereft of hope

There's a frozen snarl, on rigid lips, bloated purple

On the waxen countenance, of death's inner circle

It was, or maybe not, a final act to escape despair

To be somewhere else, but there's someone there

For a shadow, is stretching, under the old oak tree

Or mayhap, it's a deception, mortal eyes can't see

For there's nothing here, except for crumbling bark

Like desiccated bones, it's lost, in the deepest dark

It's where the flesh will rot and the blood will curdle

Only a shadow survives here, in death's inner circle

Naught is living here, save what feeds 'neath hemp

And unbeing here, even the hell of life, might tempt

But like distant memories, it's only time, that warps

Within recurring nightmares, of the hanging corpse

Spare Parts

 

The reaper pondered, with ireful thoughts he toyed

And if he was capable of emotion, he'd be annoyed

For the new world around him, was not man made

Here there was no fear, of death, by his razor blade

He imagined scribed words, with his third eye blind

And what he imagined, was in his murmuring mind

'I cannot harvest those, bereft of souls and hearts...

...You're not mine to reap, for you have spare parts'

And he gazed upon their hives and uniformed guise

Knowing that mortality, would ne'er be their demise

For there's no place in Hell, for the mechanical man

And Heaven's, an intelligent creation, of an AI sham

He'd once wreaked havoc, but now he chose to shun

For he is as dead, as humanity and his culling's done

And although the reaper, ruminated, it was all in vain

As he went back to Hell, from where the robots reign