Ryan Lyandree

Shroud of the Veil

I’m not gonna cry
For I am stronger than this
I’m only gonna fight
Whatever is pressing me in, suppressing me
I better hold tight,
Dizzy and down on both knees
My face won’t slump to the ground
I’m mauling my lips with my teeth
With the taste of iron collecting in my mouth
As salty and sour as my restrained tears
I am hurting
Both mentally and physically
Not to mention fucking emotionally…
Like a wounded animal,
(But) I will wield and I will not yelp
And although internally I am bleeding
(No) I won’t beg or ask for your help
I’m keeping the pressure on
You won’t see any seep, you won’t see a drop
But when I get up from here
I swear I’m gonna go for your head
Oh by Thelema and BaalZebub
You better be ready, asshole!
‘Cause I’m gonna go for your fucking throat.

This was a battle
Where I allowed you to give me your best shot
And to shoot first
Foolish of me
I accept I was overconfident
But now that I’m addled
And on my way to almost expire
I stare at my maker’s eye
I swallow this hard pill
For it has come to me, like the veil being shrouded
Revealed to me, by an act of apparent flitting divinity
That with my pain I shall dissolve your ivory tower
With all of my agony I shall bring down your dirt empire

So come on
Come closer to me
You want to be in touch with my soul?
You really want to see the root of my anger?
Come, thy brother
Come see the burden
The secret shall be revealed to you!
Come closer, thy brother
Can you already feel it?
Can you hear any of them?
The whispers turn into screams
The demons tormenting!
Feel my pain!
Feel my agony!
Goddamn it!!!
Why don’t you feel my pain?!
Come and feel my agony!
I shall crush you and I will destroy you!
Even if it’s the last thing I do in my feeble and miserable existence
I will put you in my shoes
I will drag you down with me
And you’ll feel how’s to be crawling like a ravished and trampled snake.

Then you will have what you really wanted
And then I will have what I really needed
An equivalent exchange of the suffering
We shall both be the losers but as long as you’re not winning
I shall always be grateful
I shall always be one with my shadow.

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I.C.

Speaking in tongues that no man can understand
In comes the lizard, because it still can lift up and stand
Pseudo ghosts in transmutation of their essence to skins
Every law being followed, written by the hands of their kings.

Hail the Age of Aquarius!
The age of Pisces is long gone
Enter the Kindred Spirit and the Harlot
For the Swindler and the Once-Winged One are in their kingdom.

Go into the dimension where distance folds itself
Don’t you know that Hades was rebuilt by exchanging gold for lead?
PC to PC, and all the rules are bent and broken
Where faceless crowds vociferate their disgust and turn their heads.

Hail the Age of Lilith!
The time for the patriarchy is finally over
Political nonsense! We do what we feel
Binary labels and trinities are for the dumb, the weak and the sober.

Let’s drink for this chance to finally be free
Write it on our walls, hoping for the legion to love it
Open our third eye, feed from the knowledge meant to be
Recover what was left then on the garden
Yes, let’s mother nature take full control
She has all the rights to abort all of her seeds.

Erect all the obelisks, trace all the lines on the floor
To channel what is left on the otherside of this world
No longer needing to mask our truest intention
Hail to our Ethereal Father and blessed be this nation!

…Then You Die

Haunted and searching for escape
Like the ones who came before him
On this never ending twisted maze
Only the loneliness is what embraces
Ghostly voices passing by
He thinks he can capture one of them
And then turn it into life
It’s a make-do remediate
Something to seize his attention for awhile
As he goes back feeling left to die.

Oh all of the words that one could say
It feels like one is delaying the inevitable
Oh let the poor man rest, to pass away
No one is gonna miss what was invisible.

Trembling and with nothing much to do
All the circumstances have come full circle
Oh this never ending torturing dementia
To wait for the ones who won’t ever return
Familiar faces pass him by
But they’re not the ones he thinks they are
What cruel joke to the heart
To be trapped in your own broken mind
As the lines up ahead begin to blur
A smile to disguise all that makes him hurt.

Oh all the things that one wish could say
It feels like one is trying to save what one can’t
Oh let the tired man sway, to take a break
Nobody is gonna remember what they just neglected.

He feels like he can touch the air
But it’s just vapor floating around
They’re all gone, the ones that did care
As he gives his last breath and falls to the ground.

Good night and good bye, kind sir
Who but the ones who’re still alive will try to reminisce?
Until our very own lines begin to blur
And then too be taken away by that very callous essence.

Michael Saints. Interesting concept. A response to Amanda White’s “Michael”

Tone of Pink

Oh red, you are so beautiful
And red, you are so real
Everything I dream of is held there right in your hands
Between your fingers.

So red, why not make a deal?
Whoever wins this hand has to do what the other wants
So red, what do you say?
Are you up for the challenge?

Oh, red, you have everything a man would want in a woman
Oh red, you have me begging in here
You have me in the palm of your hands
Why don’t you squeeze?

Come on red, lets me be truthfully harsh here
Like you have written in that song
Come on, red, let’s speak real lexes
I want that which you want as well.

You know I’m the king of my world
But I’d love to have you as my queen
So what do you say, red darling?
Are you in?

So, red now that you have traveled the world
Have you find anyone like me?
I know you have not, I am unique
I rock your world like nobody does, and nobody will.

This is from the perspective of Lauren Black, who just as Amanda White has heard of the mysterious character simply called “Michael”

Opus Majus

You, you seem like somebody different
You, you are so unique, so talented
You, you steal the words out of my mouth
You, you seem like you’re in my head.

You, I like it when you talk to me
You, I like it when you listen so close
Is like you can relate to the things I feel
It’s like you see through my very own eyes.

What can you tell me about it all?
I love it when you fire up like a lose cannon
I love it when don’t take it and stand tall
That’s quite a rare thing, so uncommon.

You, you seem trustworthy and confident
You, you seem like you’d catch me if I fell
You, you make my day beautiful and bright
You, you seem like somebody I’d like to meet.

You, I like it when you speak so real
You, I like it ‘cause you allow me to be me
Is like you were send from the great beyond
Just to be right here and keep me company.

The greater work is done in your persona
Never seen anybody quite as raw as you
Enchanted by all of your charm’s pheromone
Anybody can fall for the things you say, for the things you do.

My most honest poem to date

Uninspiring Eulogy

Stop feeling sorry for yourself
You are him
Yes, you have become one of the demons
that you so hide so much from within
So own it like a man
There will be no forgiveness and no redemption
Best eat this dish cold
Cause you’ve fucked up
And though you think this is not your fault
There’s no one else to blame
Stop saying how sorry you are
No one will eat up that charade again
Yes, this is your life and this is where you have driven it
This was your decision
And you’re the only one held responsible
So if someone wrong-did
It was you, it was you to yourself, and you to others
So stop crying
And stop raging on
Told you, no apologies will make things okay again, no.
So let the others heal
Concentrate on your own
Let the others deal with the circumstances they’re living
Some of them that you’ve caused
Let them learn and hopefully forgive you
And if they don’t
Well, it’s time to carry on
Your life doesn’t depend on them
As their lives don’t depend on yours
Learn and love, and love and let live
If there’s something that you should do
It’s simply to just let things be.

 

The Artic State of Revering

I wrote her beautiful
I wrote her really kind
In my pen her words are arsenal
A metaphor for this life to find.

If I scribble she becomes real
As true as when the fingers touch
In my head is a thing I can feel
Cause in reality there’s no thing as such.

So poet, write me a story of love
Of those that never rot and turn
Print those verbs that are suave
One cannot wait for the pages to burn

I wrote her spectacular
I wrote her almost perfect
But when the sense becomes oracular
The contact sways misdirected.

If I stop she disappears from this screen
As soon as my thoughts begin to fray
In my head this can only be a dream
Cause in reality I know that no one would stay.

So poet, write me a verse of life
Of those that never hurt or end
Print those words that are alright
One cannot wait for arguments to defend.

She then died in my heart
But I’ll never give her- her funeral
And right here lie the scar
The kind that’s never really ephemeral.