Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Weeping Angels

Acaba um parto, começa uma morte
Criança nasce em choro, homem morre em silêncio
Baptismo em agua, baptismo em fogo

A inevitabilidade do cessar da vida foi esquecida
Ignorada, evitada, cega, surda e muda
Banalizada num ritual de passagem de ilusão
Demente alucinação, louca alienação
Insana razão, leviana reflexão
Tantas são as eras da humanidade
Que se extinguiu toda a humanidade
Os mortos são enterrados na memória dos vivos
Selados com madeira espessa, cimento denso e memoriais de olvidade
Ninguém se quer lembrar dos defuntos, ninguém quer ser assombrado por seu fado
Partilham na colheita, resignados, ajuntam sementes para o ceifador de capa preta
Anda no meio deles, conformados, olham para o lado e fingem não ver
Olham de novo, apáticos, e quem lá estava foi com ele

E os anjos choram
Fazem companhia aos que já ali não estão
Sentinelas petrificadas pela tristeza que acarretam
Clamam coros de pranto no silêncio da solidão
Pelos que se seduzem pelo inevitável
Aqueles que se deixam adormecer
Cientes de que jamais acordarão
Acolhem a fatalidade como trivialidade

Os anjos choram...
Clamam coros de pranto...

Monday, June 18, 2012

Fallacious Reality

Thoughts dwell in my busy mind
Like radio transmissions lost in space
Gibberish voices disconnected from logic
Static noise that blurs my reasoning
Focused as a beam of intense light
So bright it burns my eyes
In a pile of tongues of fire
So blight it melts my sanity
In a pyre of mad laughter

Hypotheses, conjectures, suppositions
Mixed in a black cauldron
Inbound by magical power
A stew of boiling vapors ascending
Exhaling from my body
Manifestation of madness
Brain waves converted into spiritual energy
Rendering me insane for all to see

Ideas possess me
I can see they are not mine
Maybe from another department
Of my shattered mind
I am bound to their will
The only version of reality i can afford
A faulty perception of real facts and solid matter

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Before the Night is Over

Through the window of my appartment
I can see my worn-out face
In the thin glass weak reflection
Sprinkled by raindrops as fat as bullets

My bleak coat was as black as the night
Stained with the blood
Of all the women I failed to protect
Mine blood were filled with the missing scotch
That used to be in that bottle dripping from the table
Fallen like a chessboard king
Enough to fuel the self-pity of a pathetic fool

In a labyrinth of questions and dead-end streets
My mind kept playing tricks on me
Ended up indulging insane thoughts
Of betrayal and conspiracies
About things i am too stupid to comprehend

A smaller table holds the picture of my dead wife
Along with a flame licking on a palid candle
Which caresses her angel's sad face with the same tenderness
On the drawer hides a pistol loaded with bullets
Pointing at me as if bound to my guilty consciousness

I pick the cold metal piece in the zeal of an avenging valkyrie
Venturing myself into the concrete jungle
Could feel the heart beat of the city in my feet
Or was it mine, now pumped with an adrenaline rush
Was numb for so long, that i forget what meant to be alive
Only the urge to kill had brought me the will to survive another night

I bid farewell to each of my bullets Because before the night is over
They will be wings of doom and downfall
Open wide the jaws of hell
There will be a handful of souls sinking in
Before the night is over

I merge into the darkness
To find the psychopath that is my brother
The last bullets have our names carved on them by blood
And in blood they will be delivered 

I can finally rest with my family
Before the night is over

Mother Lucy

Early on
Mom taught me about Lucy
She whispered to me horrors
They were real to me
As they seem to her

Whispers about demons
With her hypnotic glance
With her psychotic eyes
Burned my youth away
Frozen my spine cold

Early on
I learned her dark arts about insanity
That made me forget about innocence

I mourn those days that i never had
Mom didn't buy me toys or cars to play with
Instead she fed me her paranoias and obsessions
Young John soon is replaced by Melancholic Vincent
Less one brother to grief, rejoice... for he didn't saw what become of me

Sunday, June 3, 2012


Há tanto que me arrasto
Neste mundo forasteiro
Que tanto estranho
Sou obra do acaso
Acto vão de outrem
Ninguém me perguntou nada
Se queria existir
Não vim de meu passo
Trouxeram-me à força
Para um sitio inóspito
Terra de Ninguém

Espectro e quimera
Vivo neste mundo
Mas habito outra realidade
Deambulo em multidões
Incrédulas que ali passei
Entre gente demente
Pensam eles que sou um deles
Sem saberem quem são eles

Night Mara

Darkness scatters outside
Soporific torpor
Dormants the soul inside
Deadliest sin of sloth

A Bad Moon is Rising

Mara enters the room
Watches the dead-aware
Infused in a coma sleep
And then she smirked

A Bad Moon is Rising

Mystified in dreams of night
Embraced the chest
Suspend the breath
Delay the dread

Mara's still in the room
Mad man's fantasy
Little children's play
Little children's wimp
Mad man's stay
Succumbed to succubus's love
Incubated in incubus's lust

A Bad Moon is Rising