As you rise each day

There should have been trumpets,
     And harp strings a plenty
Instead there's just regret
     And a head that feels empty

No, not empty. There are echos in there
Echos of a dream. Of a wonderful place where...

No, it's gone. Now there's just the morning.
The slow realisation of another day dawning.

So now, now my weary friend.
You must rise. You can no longer pretend
You live in the sandman's glorious realm
Welcome to reality.

Goodbye patterns.
Goodbye sense out of chaos.
Hello Earth and people and jobs and breakfast.

There is no force holding you down but you.
You must rise against it.
There is a whole day still to go through.

Inspiration music - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gheiDHa9sCE

The Books of War

We trapped words in pages and used it to inform the ages
Past and present of everything we'd come to represent
The stories of those who had come before us, the chorus,
Forgetting those stories which were so-so and would bore us
Instead embracing the flow of those who spoke most sonorous
But the stories which were a must were those about our bloodlust
The tales of the fictional "us", the heroes who would slay to stay alive 

Would always narrowly survive, and the and only die if by
Doing so they could imbibe us with some killer wisdom
Though first their tales would be spread throughout the kingdom
Take the princess's hand and steal her father's land 

All following a dubious master plan
But fiction fantasies are fine, but in fact I was never a fan

Instead, I was more amazed and enthralled 

By those who actually survived through ambition
The master, the genius, the tactician
Those who first wrote the lines on risking human lives
And learnt the exact exchange for blood guns and knives
Who wrote their facts as abstracts in little paper pages
The books of war - passed on through the ages
Written in red ink so how many whole souls
Had been sacrificed for this slice of aims and goals
Listen, listen no surprise as you turn each page

As you hear the cries as you feel the rage
Uncover with hesitation one more line of genuinely killer advice with a ten soul citation
These were the books that went on to found nations

These were the books which would inspire the future trades in lovers
In mothers, in fathers, in sons, daughters, and lovers. 

Those were the books to make us fight one another
Lovingly bound in leather for the leisurely pleasure of the reader
Dotted with the 'i's of those who fought the field to bleed a cause
Without yield or pause -  fighting for what they felt was right
And so polite, they laid down their lives in both day and night
Exactly  in a field in the place and time they were told
Crossed their fingers and watched their general's tactic unfold
To the plans adapted from a book written centuries prior
By an scholarly author, whose words of wisdom in war would inspire
One more leader. One more who could make others die at their whim
That's all it would ever took for a new war to begin

And if you ever feel like books don't mean anything anymore
I encourage you to feel the doom in your hands when you hold the Books of War

Inspiration - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTCp0kJYF30, written as a tribute to MF DOOM

Remember to breathe

Hey. hey you.
You in the corner.
Or even you at the side.
You, the person who feels empty inside.

Just, please. Remember to smile.
Even if it's not often,
     even if it's only once in a while

I swear, really, it'll be worth it once you've tried.
    To set all your pains and your worries aside

To stop thinking of the here
       Stop thinking of the now.
Clear your mind
   As much as your brain will allow.
Here's an idea
   We sometimes forget to believe.
The air is there for us
   If we just remember to breathe.

Let it sink in
   Go deep an inspire
Let out your worries
   Before you expire
Release your worries
   Let down your hair
Do it with a simple smile
   And a breath of fresh air

A Villain's Honesty

I can't be the only person, who when growing up, thought I was really good at telling if someone was good or bad.
Honestly, it was easy! They'd turn to the audience and then reveal that they were completely mad.
They'd show how their desire for money or power would corrupt their very soul
And then tell us point by point how they'd achieve their wicked goal


Do you remember? Hey, I'm sure you do.
The first time you thought a bad guy had a point or two.
Where there was method in the madness. Something not not quite right.
Leading you to wonder if this villain once saw the light.


And then you grew up. And no one rants any more.
No one sees themselves as antagonist to their core.
We only have a wicked streak, or a dark side we keep hidden.
But it's never the 'real us'. Such talk is mostly forbidden.


Except for those we put on a plinth as a scapegoat up tall.
But even those people, I don't think evil is their all.
People aren't like that. At least, no one I've met.
And I'm sure I can be convinced differently yet.


But it would be so convenient, would fit so nice.
If I could see a true, honest villain with a vice.
With a maniacal laugh and a wide scary smile.
Because, honestly, I haven't seen an honest villain in a good long while.

Did you not expect us?

"Did you not expect us?"

It was a call echoed loud throughout the land
This protest wasn't coordinated
This protest wasn't planned
It was simply and clearly what we had to do.
Ignited by all they had put us through.



We were so innocent, once upon a while
We'd laugh and joke, we'd dance and smile
They told us "you'll have it all
We'll push you high, you'll never fall
You'll have a job, and own your house
You'll settle young and find your spouse
Go to University, get a degree
You'll be debt-free in a year or three
Head down, work hard
Pay off debt with credit cards
Get up early, work 'til late
Come on now don't hesitate
Don't be lazy, don't be slow
Don't go crazy, never show
Any pain or any fear"
Until we shouted ENOUGH

...but they didn't hear.

They wondered why we were complaining
About this bright future we were gaining
A world in which the plants are dying
A world in which the planet is dying
Where they gave us medals, just for trying
Inspiring those who were in last place,
And then threw it right back in our face
Moaning and complaining about 'kids these days'
While never considering, if there is a problem, it's with the way and world in which we were raised.

And so. And so, this protest started to grow.
Filled with those with nowhere else to go
Those struggling hard to pay their rent
Those with a debt they just couldn't dent
Those who were depressed, annoyed, and fed up
Many friends with mental health problems, told the solution was to man up
Those told, because you're young and different, your art isn't valid,
       Those told, because you weren't born here, this isn't your land
Those who'd overcome great apathy, and were finally making a stand

Together we chanted, together we roared
Together we finally could not be ignored
It was loud, it was righteous, and it was infectious!
And yet, still, they stood there incredulous
As we finally realised, they would never expect us.