Ever felt like the world is a downright ugly place, that doesn't get any better day after day? Surely the despair is all-encompassing...surely. There is no comfort at the conclusion of this realization, no...no, nothing. Nothing—such a devastatingly pure word...purely devastating. Where is the hope; where has Hope gone? No, no hope—nothing. H'm, reflections into the conscious mind, into the so-called spirit, are stark—black. There is no use to it, no purpose: "Nothing to be done". Then why think, why this? Yes—why? No point asking why. Why draws one into an endless circle; no use, no purpose. No greater pain pangs me than this—a heart that has no one to love. But there is purpose, use; purpose to determine that there is none—

Black Metal

This is an excerpt from the documentary Metal: A Headbanger's Journey.

Black Metal

The Soul as Is

As I gaze outside my windowpane, And take in the wonder of the sky; The walls of my room begin to close in, And the emptiness could make any cry.

For is my heart a vessel daring sea?

For is my heart a vessel daring sea? Dare tempest, thunderstorm, and trident's quake? Alack! yet mine is sheltered by no lee, But rather shipwrecked, beached—denial's wake! My lute, a-tuned so fervidly, doth dote On thee; thou crown'd for prime seraphic grace. I strive toward thy heart despite thy moat; Toward that thorny rose done up in lace. And those who confidently try compare To Beauty's host, but folly they will find. As sure doth night aways with any glare, In like course, souls of ours will duly bind. So onwards, seaman, love for none will wait! Indeed, her love resembles heaven's gate.

Nature Through Mortal Eyes

Briskly blows the wind through the summery landscape,      collecting the withered leaves, prey to abounding Nature. Continually comes the new dawn, the fiery sign of a birthing sun,      the inescapable and mighty herald of an agèd Nature. Thus is Nature, ever abounding and ever aging. The towering treetops, the blanketing grass, the myriad blossoms:      prevalent and ubiquitous as sunlight and the azure sky. The vast, rolling meadows, as far as any brave eye dare ever behold,      bearing an endless sea of unfettered, teeming life.

And all this forever—and forever, ever more.

Despair, a Kingdom and a Phoenix

The following poem is one that I wrote for the "I Have a Dream" poetry competition held by Young Writers. I had the honour to be chosen to have my work published in their anthology, I Have a Dream: Voices from Around the World, Vol. II. Further information can be found here. --Despair, a Kingdom and a Phoenix-- Daily does it pass before our eyes yet we neglect it; Too apathetic to care, too oblivious to take action long overdue It disheartens me that I reflect upon my own listlessness We saunter through this world, unmindful of what occurs around us Distraught I feel—yet there is hope that glimmers before my eyes. The haggard dog that meanders about meagre tin shacks; The worn, hoary grandmother who has seen too many a youth burial; The forsaken man, lingering about forlornly, invaded by inner demons; The ragged street urchin, loved only by cruelties of a loveless world; Do even these ‘have-nots’ yearn for what only dreams yield? There is a far off kingdom, beyond all suffering and inhuman malice, That rises up into the ether; akin to that pantheon atop a mount. Here I journeyed one ethereal evening, enwrapped in a gossamer haze. At the nexus of this realm, I found, embodied in light, an ageless entity. I approached, drawn to its seemingly attractive tenderness and it said: ‘Though you may travel, corporeal one, through immaculate splendour, Know that haggardness, death, demons and cruelty abound in your world. However, hearken now to me, for I deliver an olive branch—deep within Your dying flame, indeed, within that great inflamed bonfire of mortality Stands an obelisk of hope and of dreams; a monolith that rises for freedom.’ And from this, I awoke, brimming with divine lucidity, The path I choose now, is the path that trails with heavenly benediction Like the rain that washes away the filth on the street, anew is my spirit. A message embosomed to my breast, soars above all evils of man— And this I bequeath to those begotten from flames of a resurrected phoenix.