AN ESCHATOLOGY IN VERSE

The blood toils in longing,
The mind fills with rage,
For want of infinitely wronging,
The false righteousness of the Cage.

1/3 of the sea of the seventh seal one day will bleed,
As the breath of all life turns to poison,
The slaves of the Beast will continue to breed,
Satan's final exert of foison.

In the last days those who have lived under virtuous restraint,
The very same ones with the toiling blood and righteously rage-filled minds,
Will be exalted in immortalization,
In the new bodies granted them, pure, and without taint,
As God grants a final cessation-
The beginning of a new end,
Never to be known again.

A PRIORI (Penned in twenties)

To ask the questions or to live them?
To receive the answers or to give them?
To feud with Day and ally by Night?
Or steer 'round the way, from Sorrow and Plight?
To preserve Innocence at the potential cost of Survival?
To make life your Lover and no longer your Rival?
To love to hate for mere Hate's sake?
Or love only to love and stun Hate right at Heaven 's gate?
To lose to win or to win to lose?
Or see only "good" or "bad" in whatever you choose?
To live whilst ye are young?
Or to remain tragically unsung?
To mate like the swan or to flit to and fro like the honeybee?
To commit to the Dawn?
Or cavort in the Gloaming for all Eternity?
To speak only with words sparing yet true?
Or let loose at every turn, with a loquacious slew?
Thus betraying a heart of wisdom others once thought you knew,
To jump into impartial affusion?
Or riddle the Mind and tax the Soul with hasty conclusion?
What will ye do, of these aforementioned ways to go?
Whose noose-the Devil's or thine own, will ye sow?

ODE TO THE OPTIMIST

Sensations of joy,
Are my main ploy,
I laugh in the face of all adversity,
Love those vs. me,
And never say 'Goodbye' but 'Ahoy!'

ODE TO THE PESSIMIST

Sensations of pain seize far more than those of pleasure,
For the mortal human mind,
Rarely ceases to find,
The seaweed before the treasure.