The Sin Within ..

As the good Lord finished entertaining me with dreams,
My dreary eyes popped open to the sight of this beast,
That best reminds me that my identity is fully written,
In the depths of darkness of sin where no soul dares go.

Only then does it dawn that my sanity thrives only
In the company of fallen souls where the stench of death abounds,

A warmness within only creeps in when corpses lay by my side

For the rivers I feed from source down right from the serpent's mouth.

This serpent separates and takes away my being from light,
Places me in total darkness yet in darkness its impossible to keep sins and secrets covered,

Tied to my sins and tragedies I long for the one who saves and redeems

To redeem me from this haunted world and the solace I find in the warmth of caskets.

The savior, I was told, makes and brings life to dead men,
And for him I will hold on with these sins eating into my faith and breath
But in case he does not show tear this heart to pieces and feed it to the dogs

For the pain it brings and scars it inflicts are my trophies and medals of honor.

(c) Anduvate Ray Solomon
I do not own any rights to the photo used above. All credit of the same goes to http://wakingspirals.me/

Heaven Whispers ..

Her heart was custom made in heaven to be my gentle maiden here on earth,
Here on earth my soul and heart calculated not when or how fall,
But when I fell she quenched the thirst of my unending anthems of fallen days,
Her presence made dead men seize to sing tunes deep into my nights, yes,
And her touch silenced the symphonies of ghosts that tortured my morning,
Daily with her, I feel a certain peace escape from heaven and unto me falling,
The terror that always awaited in the solace of the night now finds no room,
When I look into her eyes, heaven whispers, 'this is your freedom from blackbirds'.

Upon holding her close I know my missing rib has come back,
For in every beat my heart dares skip, hers beats to fill and complete the skipped beat,
The strength of gravity is outweighed daily when my soul ascends to meet hers,
She comes to me when the sun descends to meet the seas and I dare miss the scenery
Just to catch a glimpse of this masterpiece of nature taking on a path that leads to me,

Before Eve, she was God's first thought, In His wisdom He withheld her creation for me,
A glance casted deep in her eyes give reason as to why God said all He created was wonderful,
Yes, I can hear heaven's whisper saying 'fear not, this love is yours.'

As I lay my thoughts on her, a worship song arises from my the depths of my heart
For I see divine grace abounding the deepest of darkness- I melt,
So in the mercies of a stranger I lay this heart and it healed from all scars inflicted,
Convinced I am that a rose she is that grew on this grave and gave new life,
The possibility of life with her absence vapoured away when I dumped the ignorance of her existence,
She means everything, not a cloud up in the sky nor a shoulder to lean and cry on,

Neither a star in the night nor a rainbow mediating the sun and the rain,
Glorious whispers from heaven say, 'let these symphonies of love caress your heart'.

(c) Anduvate Ray Solomon
I do not own any rights to the photo used above

It's Not Normal ..

The smooth jazz tunes that fool my feet to groove just faded,
Faded is the face of the moon shy of gracing the night, its glory ended,

Ended glory that flourished when her presence graced and made smiles
Out of faces that frowned, as she took to her horizon I lost my
Reason to smile, I cant stand and say that's normal.

Almost convinced that if this heart bursts her face will be drawn,
Drawn I am to kiss towards the direction she walked in with deep affection,

affection that has me hoping and thinking she will be attracted back to me,
Back to me for mine eyes to see beauty in perfection and love to feel,
See all this is not normal, i may call it insanity.

Everyday I see the horizon paint a picture of her, though its growing faint,

Faint is also this warmness on the soul she created in me that I faint,

Faint every time she whispers 'my love is yours for keeps', a smile it creates,
It creates a space for her in my heart, mind and soul. Its just insane.

Even Tye Tribett asks 'what can I do', you tell me if its normal

(c)Anduvate Ray Solomon 2014

photocredits and rights belong to gyaban.deviantart.com

Life At The Cross ..

Bringing  grace  at the   cross

Paints   portraits  deep   gross,
Brings the smell of death  close,

Yet its redemption to man's soul

In  humility &simplicity the oozing of His blood took away the complexity of sin,

Sin  that  got  man  so  thin  of  righteous  deeds to breed pretty ugly life scenes,

Scenes  of a holy  king  upon  a  tree  stripped of His glory for whoever believes,

Believes that love is far from a bed of pleasure but closer to the pain of the cross

Light  so cleansing   finally came

To restore & redeem man's name

And   forever  change   his  game

Saving him from eternal mayhem

That awaited eagerly  down in hell

None    can ever   thank   enough

The  one savior   and  true    King
Who now seats on the true throne

(c)Anduvate Ray Solomon
2014

photocredits:www.gopixpic.com

Cherish Insanity...

In the depths of solitariness,
I lock claws with my own insanity,
And that brings my existence to certainty.

When they hurled how much she was likely to fail,
Her insanity broke in, built a city behind what she had brought down-hell,
A picture painted perfect of power built within insanity, it never wilts hence cherish.

Angels remain at the feet of God for they cherished the insanity of worship,
Demons demonstrate destructive dominion over man as they cherished the insanity of darkness,
And here you are reading this for I cherished the insanity of writing, insanity is yours to cherish.

(c)Anduvate Ray Solomon
2014

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the picture used above

photocredits: flickrhivemind.net

Paradise is Absent

Her existence, austere, is made known to her not when she breathes but upon bleeding,

A bleeding caused by deep cuts inflicted insensitively by her beloved,
Like still waters this pain is deep in her veins for it is stuck in her thoughts to darken her mind,
From dusk till dawn hatred fuels her blood as she feels absent from the world; a ghost,
After recurrent darkness, days turning to nights streets of gold lose value as her heart
Finds peace and solace in the beauty portrayed by aisles of graveyards,
To her, instructions to a life of roses is written in codes on scrolls with cryptic entries,
Precarious, she would love some room to breathe yet that is exposure to more toxicity.

She seems to be a snake swallowing its tail, how does that end?
A product of failed love on a bed of hate and actions of spite is what she feels she is,
Daily she hears words that damage and slaughter and this breaks down her brains
To psychological chemicals proving too toxic for any sense to sink within her,
Once, she felt like she won't survive the changes made by the earth but the underworld
Wasn't ready for her, she remains alive but dances offbeat to the rhythm of life,
The pill she is on is a tough one to swallow but in almost broken steps,
Her fragile feet march on as she is at the verge of withdrawing her faith from up above.

Candles are lit in prayers for her pain to fade but these demons don't seem to care,
Maybe a whisper to her, when deep within a clean spirit clings on then
Even upon death with graves being dug beyond six feet deep into the earth's crust,
Not an inch closer to hell will your soul be fed, yes, pain presents itself-
Not as a problem to be solved but a stage of test that has to be endured,
In the end she will trip the light fantastic, sure that your sweat is not  blood
But it sure is more than water but for now rest the soles of your shoes, be still
For in pain, when you move you place yourself in a position too strenuous for your threshold.

(c)Anduvate Ray Solomon
photo credits: poesypluspolemics.com 

Beyond Redemption...

This time when he called only the devil answered for his heart couldn't host God,
The seeds he sowed gave birth to a demon that now couldn't be tamed, it only tormented,
Daily in depression he shed a thousand tears each drop representing a different pain,
Today he stays to say and testify that once you fall hard it is stability to gain,
Though he ponders over why grace can not allow the past to rest in the depths of its grave,
Before God he counts himself an angel fallen and fears the redemption path to brave,
Into the emptiness of yesterday he stares with almost no hope for tomorrow,
So into pieces he falls to render himself helpless as a new age begins-that of sorrow.

It replays in his mind again, how she breathed hard gasping for oxygen,
That was after he trailed her and covered her face in darkness to take away her
Well guarded dignity; she tried to plead and pray that he stops but his demons cared not,
He then pulled out a seven inch dagger to tattoo her tongue and feed on her blood-vampire,
Then his boots met her face to leave footprints on her body and away he laughed,
Her body began to convulse; to put her misery to an end in a pool so red,
He drove the dagger into her heart seven times; he then licked the knife then uncovered
His victim's face, they say die looking your killer in the eye; yes, a mother looked at her son.

Ice cold he turned as a ghost took his soul but left him with his breath,
Repercussions of his actions haunted his once pleasant dreams-nightmares,
Haunted by his own soul and existence tears expressed not the full blown guilt within,
The rhythm of the dance of life he lost owing to his guilty feet yet death couldn't accept him ,
Fears of his victim coming from beyond the grave to offer a chance to dance numbed him,
For a heart like his, absolute boredom would be suffered in heaven and
Loneliness down deep in hell because his worship defeats the purpose,
Beyond the limit of the bottomless pit, his heart was beyond redemption.

(c) 2014 Anduvate Ray Solomon

image courtesy of http://stock-clip.com/video-footage/valentine/2

Below Under

I wasn't dead when they put pennies in my eyes and allowed the gone to sing my soul away,
When my eyes darted from side to side I saw paradise disappear and couldn't tell where
The angels had gone, caught between the harmonies of an evil angel and a righteous demon,
As my body tissues turned into ashes and my soul laid to rest what is left of my body,
My spirit landed in the dream theater but was told dreams aren't made anymore; they're won,
He then showed me a dance floor decorated with skulls and bones with blood dripping at the sides,
It was well lit under the light of the eclipse, the ambiance created was breath taking
Breathtaking much that I started suffocating as my lungs hang in by thread.

Then came my dance partner, the evil angel-with a killer smile that broke my ribs
And caused them to puncture my lungs and after coughing out blood the music started
I watched my shadow leave me and without a tear it did not say goodbye, these are real tears,
Before we could dance he struck my feet and both became an equal of two left feet hence
The rhythm I couldn't follow, the evens turned odd as the dance that was to save me was taken away,
One plea I copied was carry me to heaven's arms and when the light go out let forever drag me down,
Being the bridegroom of death these evil angels put me to sleep as righteous demons open their wings,
I could only whisper, strike my soul at the stroke of midnight-kill me tonight

Yes, though I prayed I had fallen prey, this was the night of a hunter yet I was in the fields,
Word goes round that when you dance with the devil you look him not in the eye
Laying there almost lifeless a symphony that calls forth death resounds in my mind,
I watched the evil angel walk away through the fire as I lay in bondage,
Though wasted I dare to prove that my sweat aint blood but its more than water,
Careless whispers of the day tests the prudent words of the night,
When in the devil's dance floor the first step you take you are half past dead,
The second step is for the devil and demons to celebrate another fallen soul

(c) 2014 Anduvate Ray Solomon

photo credits: www.thisiscolossal.com

Uncried Tears...

As a resource, tears are perfect waters to irrigate field of pain,
Ears evolve into deafness to the cries of dying souls when sounds of fired bullets become a familiar symphony,
Yet for every gone soul a ghost returns to reveal something more shocking than a bullet hole,
To reveal the truth in the statement, 'when you kill a man he becomes immortal,
As a testimony so true I say even the devil's heart grows not numb,
And though miles apart the gun always calls back the gunslinger,
Just like in days so dry battlegrounds thirst for blood, sweat and bodies to lay waste,
You can only perceive a being to be a hero of war if you know not the danger line at war.

I say this in the light of those days when the demon hailing from death valley was a friend,
Memories of the days I held the title 'warrior' though in truth I was a hope destroyer,
Days that I devoted my energy to spear down the pride that praise stirs,
Times when every ounce of energy was muscled towards a glorious eulogy,
Now drowned in blood I shed at war I raise waters praying that they hearken,
That they hearken the weeping of a son whose father I killed as he watched,
That it comes to light of the many I left orphaned and homeless,
They call me a hero of war yet the devil knows me as number one hit man.

Am afraid that If I love my neighbor as I love myself then none will live to see sunrise,
Today empty spaces encrusts my heart with a lonely spirit swollen with much hurt,
Torn and tormented is my soul at glance and I dread the path that I walk,
Jesus before Judas cried to the father to take the cup of suffering away,
I pray that if this cup is taken from me may I not be given the strength,
For against this cup I will Avenge Sevenfold for the bullet it gave me for my valentine,
I long for freedom from these wounds in the inside and scars on the outside,
That they term as badges of honor yet they are symbols of torment.

(c) 2014 Anduvate Ray Solomon


image courtesy of amazinganman.wordpress.com

A Fight In My Mind...

A perfect knowledge of yourself you may have but on the streets just another stranger,
I walk these fields of lava taking steps towards grounds that hold,
As I let lose this fear-a prisoner of mine-I pray the sun never to rise,
Called to be a warrior, a soul destroyer and a hero of war;down I lay,
I lay in anticipation of my foe to march forward to meet my bullet for his slay,
Through this kiss I can taste the tongue of death and even share in its breath,
Yet souls I lay to waste pay my soul a visit to torment and castrate
The hero that lies within; to stop war is peace yet peace invites war,crossroads.

I fight with all my life, yet I have one life; maybe its time to walk away,
But a warrior who walks out on the flames of war loses identity and gains inferiority,
Is it better to stay put to the end till all stars fade to ashes and beauty empty walls?
Beyond doubt to my home I will return in body before soul for the land
To raise waters over the demise of a hero of war and a prisoner of torment,
Every bullet I ever fired comes back right back at me and death becomes my pillow,
The gongs from the pits so bottomless resound and call my name-should I respond?
Well, postponing death is still a date with demons, should I take an early date?

My horizons keep drawing closer and closer as this air keeps growing thinner,
Into oblivion my hope fades as gun shots make the beats to my favorite song,
I still breathe the air of the living but I dine, drink and dance with ghosts,
These ghosts find warmth in me and speak sweetly and softly to say, 'dance with me'
For the thousandth time through this tortured portrait I will tempt fate,
This is every man's crossroads but I go first to create a path beaten for you,
Behind I will leave diaries of cryptic entries as a guide to your feet,
At crossroads I will stand no more, towards the left I advance.

(c) 2014 Anduvate Ray Solomon

Cruel Ashes Of Hate...

My vows with silence go unbroken as I watch her writhe; after effects of the sidewinder-life,
The rhythm of her contortions depict how much venom is racing through her vein-pain,
She weeps deep for the roads untraveled as seemingly they hold more peace than strife,
Crying would help her ease the trouble but her wells are well dry-drought no rain,
Only anthems of a dying day play in her stereo, a further step from hope,
Too gone to be born afresh is the tale she tells and yes confidently proclaims,
Nothing is stronger than broken faith yet her's is beyond broken, more to say,
Beyond fate and all these are waters running from the rivers flowing from the inside.

From whom she came comes conspicuous spills of paint to portray an abstract of hate,
Beyond six feet-closer to hell further from heaven-lays days when she was sure of a smile,
I dread the day this torrent of torment will whisper to this fallen star,
To make her see that a heart only is hurt in duration of love till hate lends a helping hand,
For then an untamed beast shall be raised to raze down everything, turning evens odd,
For even those she called friends behind closed doors froze her heart to grab her innocence,
Agony, under no terms, agreed to become a friend and now for the dark she's left,
As she fights to survive, an edifice of pain sorrow and hate builds up in the inside.

Indeed fighting the night does not ring the sun up any early, yet that's her longing,
For her pain, tears cant comfort, she wants her heart beat given to a corpse,
As she questions where the angels went, she's slowly evolving into the devil's favorite demon,
Her spirit and soul lay in a grave unattended, even darkness fears her,
Yet from the inside she stirs a fight for redemption and her right to life,
Not defined y flesh and blood; 'more is to man than the body he carry' is her belief,
So on my knees I remind the Lord to turn on her light and break her tunnel,
For the sweet song to rise from a purified heart, right from the core of the inside.

(c) 2014 Anduvate Ray Solomon

Chasing After You....

 

Like mellow melodies melting from strings gently played from violins memories flow,

Sweet and smooth as they are they set my soul on fires for torment to die slow,

Torment is so much that the demand for David's harp is on the high,

These symphonies fade into torturous harmonies as the elected dead

Play in the orchestras and these demons from desires unsatisfied give air no chance,

Early morning through the sunrise the clouds and light merge painting

A picture perfect of the face that now is miles away, warm tears glow,

So uncertain of whether the love is still intact or its a play on stage by memories.

As the sun rays at sun set turn from golden to neon I look deep into the horizon,

The horizon you cruised into and still your shadow remains, not as dark though,

With much uncertainty I peruse our pages though the ink is a shade lighter, 

Where your face was an empty space is and a choir is raised

From the fires of hell to laugh as I slowly learn to let go, its worth dying for,

Shepherds of fire say when the heat goes down let the fire die into smoke,

And that smoke chokes my eyes into tears with a confirmed fear,

A fear stating that the year you belonged to my arms to these arms is gone

When love is mutual no more, lust appeals not and separation comes forth,

It is with great debt to faith that I doubt these hearts are still one,

I will go chasing after your heart for a place and after your head for a thought,

Not to be forgotten is my goal, letting go I have and I march on,

Only that when these eyes see you, this heart is not sure if a new 

Fire will be lit or the smoke will be too high in the sky to bring it back,

Gold isn't of much worth when in the beholder's hands. but when its away,

As true as it can be, priceless you are- I will chase after your dreams...
(c) 2014 Anduvate Ray Solomon

Caskets Of Gold...

This was a rose on top of the mortician's architecture-a grave,Portraying pure and divine beauty to hide the beast inside,
With all thorns thrashed and pruned down, the rose doesn't prick.
A masterpiece of its kind and size was a force to recognize,
In perfect hypnosis this eye caught the hype to acquire this type of rose,
It didn't dawn that each grave-rose is under a ghost for protection,
Taking this rose was an equal to hosting the hounds hovering unnoticed,
The imperfect harmonies of those in golden caskets got my feet to dancing

Into a world of pleasure this soul was ushered,
With an idea of singing for the moment to forget the coming hour,
Neglecting the truths in breathing and the heart beating are essentials for living,
Breathless moments and hearts that skipped beats were cravings of the day,
These invited beasts burst through the innocence of mind to leave it a perverted ground,
So much that this rod was led to explore hills and valleys within sight,
Throwing aside upright morals to live for the day and not tomorrow's satisfaction,
For a second, this caskets of gold tempted me to lay in

In the end there was a portrait of a tortured you and I,
A portrait painted in Michelangelo's tears, it was so clear,
An attempt to walk on burned and broken bridges, a struggle to live,
In deep regret of paying attention to the anthems of these dying days,
And letting the site of this golden casket blur the sight of my life,
I now face the ghosts that protected this rose on this grave,
Yes, i face this faceless enemy beneath this soil as I lay to waste,
After a thousand times of tempting fate, finally I rest in the city of Angels

(c) 2014 Anduvate Ray Solomon

Memories Like Vultures...

Like an earthquake these vultures violate my right to rest through the night,
They carry me into the blue of the night as thick fog rises from the ground,
A total unrest in the inside to portray confusion on the outside,
Ages had passed, it was a dawn of a new age but grace wasn't abound yet ,
As I sigh in depression, the sight of these vultures strangle my strength to fight,
The moon above testifies of the tests that I couldn't stand their taste hence my fail,
It matters no more how much towards the right direction I have trodden,
This right here is a definition of a torn and tortured heart, these vultures...

The pages my action had written tells the tales that only hell can inspire,
Each page reads a different form of destruction to fashion hearts so broken,
Every letter lets out drops of tears that stand for various pains and aches,
All punctuation proclaim the bloodshed and lives that faded in my hands,
The man in the mirror proves the man in the mirror is not as ugly as they say,
A soul darkened by death only caused by detrimental action to humanity,
Yes, my sins demand justice for my deeds, mercy weeps but not in my defense,
I will stand to be judged today, bury my head and burn my body alive

These memories dig me deep past my grave past the gates into the pits of hell,
They yell to me, death to my body isn't enough, torture to my soul is just the start,
They still call for my demise when I can die no more, vengeance does not grow fat,
Its a caress of eternal torture, swimming and drowning in the lake of fire,
Today fractures of my being can stand no more, I hold a tongue tired of explaining,
Whether you have sinned or not cast a stone to curse my breathing,
A great lesson to behold, if your tears aren't blood but more than water,
Then it is not strong enough to write the pages of your history

(c) 2014 Anduvate Ray Solomon

Dreams Of Valentines Day......

A sweet and gentle kiss on my lips is the start of your lullaby,
Beside you in bed I lay as your warmth soothes me into slumber,
The sky above is clear with stars brightly shining, my angel passing by,
I smiled the much that this love could let me, in my dreams you were still the one,
To a dinner table you invited me, with a warmness on the soul I accepted,
A blindfold behold my eyes as this surprise dinner awaited,
Step by step like a little baby you led me to the table,
A moment in paradise was the picture painted in my head....

Gently the green-light to take off the blindfold was given,
My eyes beheld darkness, then a red light lit the dungeon,
Walls were made from caskets with corpses in them, I trembled,
The dinner table cover was fresh human skin still dripping with warm blood,
A cup of corrupted wine came to me as an offer, a toast was made,
Yes, this was a feast yet my eyes saw no delicacies laid at the table,
Tunes of dirges danced into my ears as a multitude appeared with knives,
My beloved was hosting the feast, I was the meat to be ate...

Through the tormenting darkness I saw skulls smiling right at my frown,
I could make good the word, 'Even though I walk through the valley...
Strongly I felt the presence of death surrounding and speaking softly,
I got the strength to stain the silence and in defiance I dared ask,
What I offered you my soul, would you secure a dance for me?
A dance in the royal floor, where angels and demons collide,
Would you give me a chance to dance with the devil?
Then my eyes opened to the sunlight of the morning of Valentine's day

(c) 2014 Anduvate Ray Solomon