Posts Tagged ‘the’

The Voice of the Devil

Grab on this corpse
And put it back in
Oh, how much have I long
For the day I welcome the misery
Back into my arms
Back into my soul
No, I will not understand
Yes, I will be cold
Push aside in despite
Of all the good I’ve done
Oh what a passage of rite
So callous to the bone
Chew it and spit it out
The taste have grown stale
As I scream and I shout
And watch this ship go to sail.

This storm, oh holy diabolical confusion
The intrusion of the so called friends
For now you’ll enjoy the division
But all your angels will soon become fiends
Every mistake back at you
I will be happy when the death touches
The one thing leading you through
I wanna see it lie in the dirt with the roaches.

Oh, happiness
Am I the only one grieving?
Seem like you’re smiling
Is it so fruitful what you’re conceiving?
This knife on my back
I will one day take it out
And I will draw a track
To disfigure your surmount.

You all come in packages
I was thrown down here
And all the dark influences
Will strike as your biggest fear
Come on, the one you will hate
Come on, the one that will not tolerate
Self-destruction with you tied to me
Cause if I go down, you’ll go down with me.

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Probably Ryan Lyandree’s final poem/song…

The Fisherman

Enter the hyphens to draw the horizon
This is the path I must take, from now on
Make way for the temple that has arisen
The parcels are coming to commemorate themselves.

Clutch onto your body, not to lose your spirit
This baptism of fire has other plans for you
Watch as this fisherman is fishing for sirens
It seems to be the only thing he knows how to.

Talk about the reeling
Talk about the bait
This path seems appealing
A trail I should take.

Spurting his blood to feed off the Wyvern
This is the pact I’ve signed, where I belong
Make way for the darkness tearing asunder
The pillars are coming down, burying us both.

Hold tight your chest, not to lose your soul
The drizzle of sulfur’s to acid, as coal is to oil
Beware of the callous in hunt of the weary
That the assemblage of angels is called on to foil.

Talk about the reeling
Talk about the bait
This path seems appealing
A trail I should take.

Stare at the wave that is swallowing us under
Look at that fisherman just fishing in his boat
Two suns are for eyes, and voice like a thunder
It seems he’s the one that keeps us afloat.

Shrouded in mystery is the life of us Pisces
When the age of Aquarium is now just upon
Two spectrum apart, contrary and in crisis
Two entities divided, striving to become one.

Talk about the reeling
Talk about the bait
This path seems appealing
A trail I should take.

Another poem/song by Ryan Lyandree. This could be considered the prequel, or sequel to “The Resolution

The Invisible

Hey! Hello!
I hope you’re up there
I’m here wandering
I’m here lost again.

Without a map to guide me
And the stars have gone berserk
Where’s north? Where’s forward?
I’m going in circles once again.

Hey! Hello!
Are you really listening?
This one way conversation
Only with myself.

Without a compass to direct me
All the stars have gone berserk
Where’s north? Where’s forward?
I’m going in circles once again.

Hey! Hello!
Am I alone in here?
Talking to the invisible
Hoping it’ll come to my aid.

(Maybe it has been waiting for me…)
(Maybe this was the reason all along…)

Maybe if I take the step
Maybe if I take the leap…

Could it be…
That the Invisible can help me out?
To find myself
In its arms and in its grace?

Could it be…
That the Invisible is willing to aid me?
Embrace me at last
In its heart and in its place?

Maybe if I take the step
Maybe if I take the leap…

Take my hand
And lead me there
My old friend
My light, my counselor.

Unbeknown to me
The Invisible, always, awaiting
Through all of this time
For me to call upon.

The main poem/song of Ryan Lyandree’s new “Album” with the same name

The Resolution

Sleepwalking in this desert
I find myself secretly daydreaming
Soaring through the great lengths in distance, far beyond
From where my eyes can reach to see.

Tumbling again against my tail
I watch my heart silently salivating
Like the crows, circling around my head, waiting for my feet
To give in and face down, there, dead.

This road I’ve taken no longer takes me any further
It has taken me far too long to realize that
This light here doesn’t seem to spark any brighter
I need to find the source and become one with it.

Wandering in this barren place
I find my soul furtively thirsting
Imagining what’s on the other side of this wall I’ve erected
So tall, so long, so thick, impenetrable.

Keeping me away from this deluding society
Safe from any sort of heartache and suffering
And all the consequences of having to hand my pride
In exchange for the self-indulgent corporal integration.

Did I refrain from it just to avoid any kind of correlation?
Did I ever really need to be part of their congregation?

All I ever wanted was to find my center, to find my peace
Not to dwell right there frozen, posing like a center piece
So this is my letter of resignation,
This is the letter of cease and desist.

This road I’ve been taking no longer takes me any further
It has taken me far too long to realize that
This light here doesn’t seem to spark any brighter
I need to find the source and become one with it.

These million miles I’ve walked away from home
Running from all of these sins in my life I can’t atone
I’ve been carving these words in my flesh, not to forget
All the blood I’ve given, it’s not enough to pay my debt
I find myself spiritually crippled, so mentally weary
If I take this path now is because find it to be necessary
To embark a new journey and design a new plan
To slay all the demons I’ve made with my own hands.

The road I was taking, no longer takes me any further
It has taken me far too long to realize that
That light there didn’t seem to spark any brighter
I want to find the source and become one with it.

The Logical Sense of the Granted

Fancy finding you in this place
Or any other eloquent word
Found in the dictionary to describe
How to educated we have become.

Give them something easy to swallow
Filled with sugar so the rush will last ever-long
The fruit wasn’t ripe but we accelerated
The process in order to be served on this paper plate.

Lying to our teeth to get a smiling face
It’s hard to be cynical when the numbnuts don’t get it
Give us your words of criticism as “the experts on the topic”
Only the internet has allowed you to fantasize about such things.

“Spectacular!” I must exclaim
Or any other bullshit word
That I can find here to describe
How insignificant it all signifies to me.

I’ll give you something easy to swallow
Filled with sugar, so the rush will last ever-longer
The cake isn’t done yet but you can
Shove your face and savor the ingredients meant for the whole.

Biting off our tongues to get an approving gesture
It’s hard to be cynical when the numbnuts don’t get it
Give us your words of criticism as “the experts on the topic”
Only the internet has allowed you to fantasize about such things.

I’m an arrogant, aren’t I?
‘Cause I’m the one who has the balls to speak these struggles
Such an enormous arrogance
When you wish things weren’t as bad as they’ve become.

Self-sufficient, aren’t you?
‘Cause you’re the one who doesn’t needs anyone else, okay
Such is the price of the vainglorious disclaim
You feel the need to say the things you think that are okay to say.

Covering our mouths to give a sense of inclusion
It’s hard to be cynical when the numbnuts don’t get it
Give us hope of betterment and improvement as you “wish for our best”
No, that cannot be, ‘cause your collective consciousness is dead on its mindset.

It cannot be any other way
Such is the logical sense of the granted…

Another poem using the alias “Ryan Lyandree”

The Antagonistic

Cursed
Cursed be
You, bringer of strange fire
From foreign, off limits lands
But your love for the contradictory
And infatuation with philistinism
Has brought you here
With amour-propre in your front pocket
And a grin on your contemptuous face.

Cursed you should be for your arrogance
And your presumptuousness!

One job
One job given
Like any other liar, thief
Money laundry straight
From the ministry’s washing machines
We stare at the crown
In hopes for prosperity
Consecrated in this tabernacle for the ceremony.

We’re in desperate need of atonement
And you hand us vile blasphemy!

Spit at the sky, won’t you?
It will always rain on us
You belligerent fool, you!
Back to the Stone Age with us.

All because of you
(Or was it always in us?)
Are you to blame for all this?
(Or are you secretly speaking for all of us?)

Off with your Burnt Offerings
Out with your derisive impiety
You’re profaning this Sanctuary
Cursed be for your scurrility.

Cursed be for all eternity…

Another poem/song by “Ryan Lyandree”

The Wounded

Obsessed
Obsessed with it all
With the destruction
And the restoration.

Fixated my eyes and my thoughts
And my heart on the malice
And the harmony and the grudge
And the ever lack of redemption
Through the darkness
Through the hollow, the gap
The cul-de-sac
All the way back to the beginning.

Questioning my own reasoning
My endless naivetés
The absorption of my compassion
The extinction of my own self.

And through the wounded
I find myself
I find the hatred for myself
I find the stupidity, and simplicity
Of how a human being
Sabotages itself
Dismantles itself
And tries to redeem itself
By giving the love
That it doesn’t feel for itself
To others
And all this
Till the point it cannot no longer
Forgive itself
No matter what.

Not at all
Not one bit
Over and over again
The guilt takes over.

Obsessed
Obsessed with it all
With the oblivion
And the instauration.

Fixated my eyes and my thoughts
And my heart on the umbrage
And the tranquility and the ire
And the ever lack of atonement
Through the shadows
Through the idle, the void
The dead end
All the way back to the beginning.

And through the wounded
I’ve found myself
I find the love for myself
I find the stupidity, and simplicity
Of being a human being.