I was given an Echo

You didn't know this but I have an echo
Sometimes even stronger than my own voice
It whispers afterward outward at a complacent world
It brings life and color to the blind

Verily an echo with a voice sweeter than mine
That blocks the world's ugly voices
And shapes my reign to come
My love is for truth

Strength wary
Tearing out my lust
Not bleeding to death here on the earth
They deny me the grace of a fancy afterlife

So I rove with my echo inside the minds of these eternal readers
Coloring the force of our shared voice
Others within awaken as they see
As they hear... And they will see...

Yes an echo through the valley here
over the dying empires to my North
Strength wary
Tearing out my lust, I am bleeding half to death!

Verily an echo reverberating over the surface of neglected midnight
The sigils of dawn are drawn and glow in blinding darkness
And all there is, is the echo
all the way into the forbidden light of day

Fields of midnight(for those in wait)

 I can feel you out there past the border, the limits.
You wait out there and worship me for some reason.
Am I your Magus? your indistinct light bringer?
Your will to follow me, hidden in the deep changeable chasms of your psyche.
Am I not just random? Not just a piece of fiction dreamed up...
 to combat a difficult day behind those crinkled brows of yours,
 that call me down from my hilltop throne?

Well no, you've seen my words pass over the earth,
 like I myself used to back in the day.
Silent and invisible, unseen even.
 You wait out there in your places.
You seem to want to seek me.
 The answers I give you might shock you.
Turn your stomach and make you question your loyalty to me.

Inevitably you'll see as you disappear and sink back into your mundane existence,
 that I forked the truth.
 Like the snake tongue,
 Like my finger running along those hundred scales.
Hell like my stomach growling with the snake's twelve hungers.
And lets go now to your hunger!
I Placed the fork in your mouth with the food on it,
 the food you begged for,
without penetrating soft skin!
Didn't I?
No more, no less.
Yet painted with the colors of a demon, I am!!!!

If this was sustenance to you,
 surely you wait by the fence,
 where the rest of the cattle dare not go, Why do you dare?
You wait there to get a better view of me.
A better view of the creature or the so called magus some of you out there call me,
Where the grass is out of reach, plenty, long and juicy.
 The onlookers starve from the eyes as is the way of their personal purgatories.
 Running through them like an ebola.

Yet none of us here on this side of the fence, feast on that grass.
 My kind creates the cities of light, the spiritual cement.
 The progression of the ultimate dreams.
The physical greatnesses where one leaves the earth knowing they have had their fill...
 And given it too.

You see shadows pouring out of my lair, so you dub me evil
You see the world hang upside before it inverts into it's perfect order,
 so dub me the catastrophic.
The barbwire keeps you in,
 But I have made a hole big enough for you and the ignored ones.
So that you may mosey on over into this reality,
 before they sew it up with their low carbon steel.

Then you can stand before me and look me in the eye.
Share your truth and pledge yourself to mine. 
For truth is all I want from you.
The arousing crushing truth.

The hidden fate line

The hidden fate line

 Four witches sit infront of me and invite me to play

 One mute, One petite, one deaf, and one destiny placed

 Their card game is performed with straw and calm

 Dealing several cards onto my palm

 Sprig of wheat settles as moon pulls tides

 In the palm of my hand parallel to the sun line

 On hand skin where the fate line hides

 They deal the cards out eyes lying

 Strangely expecting me to accept every one

 These hands collect but radiate the heat of sun

 Deny the night it's cool alleviation

 Deny the cards open intrepretation

 They have me seated here far from the fields and fences

 These hands of mine make me alien In their presence,

 In lantern light, one pale, one freckled, one dark, one tanned

 Each witch distributes the cards like fingers on a hand

 Am I just the mount of venus?

 A tadpole of the cosmos? 

Or the gargantuan toad! 

I handle the midnight farm.

Each strand has it's version

 We stood by the stream
Certain areas of the banks featured piled up rubbish
The water was clean enough
I had to see through her
Through the river
Through the woman

It was clogged with an aquatic plant
Exactly like long hair anchored on the riverbed
experiencing the flow of the river
Its varying tones of made it seem like-
Every strand was unique
Each one living it's own version

Ocean Cryptid

 I swim with this long tail trailing but also propelling
Boosting me through the water
So many teeth
I live under the rock of the busy coral reef

I lunge out to eat sharks
The water dirtied from the meal
Appetite so overwhelming
Jaws must close on flesh

Darkness falls
And i'm on the seafloor
Sinister lonely
An ancient ghoul

Hovering then settling
bathing in the darkness

Second half

 When you miss someone
deep in reflection
Mind refuge
The rope is cut

Threads untangle
Everything is severed
And yet the longing strengthens
Binds itself to memory

Conclusions rise up
Convince us to listen
heal those unsaid wounds
become a part of me, my second half

Steam off the spirit

 Steam off the spirit as it fries
Pouring off this pressure that vibrates
In this heat that intensifies
Unwilling to fade unwilling to dehydrate

Into solid mass
reversing from the gas
Overexcitement in equators and poles
Between frozen and boiling pools

The energy develops enters and exits.
Moving outward to feel for hands of destiny.
Are they there? do fingers fit?
Where is that blessed energy