The Creator's Word

Second song from In Shattered Silence. About 11 minutes long. It's a story about a fictional planet, a Creator, and his Beings.

THE CREATOR'S WORD

...And so he forges a new blue-green world;
The Creator's vision brought into fruition.
...And there he plants the seeds of his Beings
And witnesses evolution and harmony.

"But this world is not without pain,
Tragedy, and disaster.
I insist that there be balance.
They'll take nothing for granted."

The Creator watches them multiply,
And they build their shelters and gardens.
They carve their own culture and history
Without knowing why.
They are unaware of their origins
And know not of he who put them here.

They wander through forests,
They cry from their highest cliffs,
They find no calling, no meaning,
No reason nor goal.
But along their trek,
Inspiration finds them.
Aesthetic wonder abloom,
They take comfort
In the presence of growing things.
The grass at their feet,
The triumphant tall trees,
And the calls of creatures
Put their spirits at ease.

So what about their Creator?
Would he not receive their praise?
How could he be satisfied
Giving life to be unrecognized?
His will must be carried out.
His word will be sent down.

"They will hail and praise me.
They must all obey me."

And so it was heard:
The Creator's word.

But something is lost in translation,
And some find no space for interpretation.
...And so there is a great rift
As the confused become the vigilant.
...And so their hatred is spawned
As violence is born in the name of glory.

Why must they suffer so?
Did they not have all they needed?
Was it not better before?
With threatened pride, he swung down an arm
To divide them and bring them to war.

"They do not respect me!
Why do they reject me?
They did not obey me!
Why did they betray me?
This was not my plan..."

He led them all into bloodshed.
He is the Creator of War.
For his interference,
He will endure eternal remorse.

...And so he must repair this red-stained world;
The Creator's vision brought divisive religion.
...So he knows he must set his Beings free
And admit to his pride and vainglory.
...Yet he could not take fault for this attempt at life.
To him this world will be a tragic prototype.

"I will leave them forever."

Holiday Resolutions

1. Doing at least 100 push-ups at least every other day (3-4 days a week).

2. Find a job. This should probably be number one, but I don't feel like deleting or copy/pasting.

3. Work on any willpower or addiction issues (coffee and stuff, I don't smoke or do drugs or any of that shit)

4. Keep fine tuning my voice and writing awesome lyrics and vocal melodies

5. Pick up my guitar again.

There you have it folks. Not even New Years yet, but those are my resolutions. Don't worry, the next post will probably be lyrics again. Expect "Island" to be re-written, as I am wishing to turn it into lyrics for a 10 minute song with the band : )

My Life Now

The other day I finished earning my degree. Now I'll get to live in a box and tell people who pass by "I have a degree."

Today it is going to snow. I still want to go to Milford tonight to see someone. I still want to go to practice tomorrow in Wolcott. Screw snow.

Today was the first time I looked at someone's blog which I've avoided looking at for months. I felt the old trembling feelings surge up, but they never exploded. I went back to my life and thought "I'm cool now."

My dog is whining, my sister is home visiting, and it's time to watch Futurama dvds.

WWW VII: A Harmless Game

Words from the Whispering Woods: VII

A HARMLESS GAME

Five costumed maidens
Upstairs in the corner,
In a room made windowless
By blinds and shades
Positioned themselves
Into what they believed
To be a circle.

Free-spirited maidens
And a harmless game.
What did they know?

"Set thick candles alight,
One by each maiden,
And the room will be
Otherwise dark.
Center the board,
And put one hand each
On a psychic device.
Try to keep still."

Young, careless maidens
And an October game.
What did they know?

The first question is asked;
An innocent inquiry
Reflective of their age.
Staring at each other,
They hope for a response
Without actual hope.
The device holds its place.

Wistful, naive maidens
And a cheap-thrill game.
What did they know?

"This will not work
If the intent is not serious.
The second question asked
Will be devoid of laughter
And unassuming of youth.
Let it be done now,
With sincerity and focus."

Concentrating maidens
With a secret game.
What did they know?

The second question is asked;
One of natural curiosity;
One of what lives beyond life.
The device moves
Of its own accord.
Skeptical maidens read
The word "Listen."
A knock pounds at the door.

Frightened, screaming maidens
And a harmless game.
What did they find?
What did they find?

My Thought For the Night

I think too much.

"When You Survive Death"

Here is the updated version of some lyrics being used in an upcoming Connecticut progressive metal band (no name as of yet).

"WHEN YOU SURVIVE DEATH"
September/October 2009

When you survive death,
You reflect on words –
Words with effects intense and profound,
For better or for worse.
They bring hope,
They bring false hope,
Love and despair and pain.
So this is the story we wrote.

So, move on.
So, carry on.

My poetry slides off the page
Into the earth and sinking
Under the scope of your sight.
Your poetry flies off the page,
Stinging and drilling an infection
Into my mind.

Hopeless defeat, be numbed.
Please find me, chemical lobotomy.
Worthless being, be gone.
Sweet noxious mist envelop me.
Oh, I have seen how everything changes,
Especially when you survive death.

So, move on.
So, carry on.

I would willingly give my life to another,
But I was never blessed with the chance.
I could bleed for years and never, never die.
I have been reborn many, many times.
I would willingly give my life to another,
But they were never blessed with the chance.
I could bleed for years and never, never die.
I have been reborn many, many times.

I do not believe in fate.
I do not believe in reason.
I do not believe in fate.
I trust only in chaos.
I do not believe in fate.
I do not believe in reason.
I do not believe in fate.
So why do I feel this has a sense of purpose?
What am I being saved for?
Who am I being saved for?
I have been bestowed with a sense of worth,
Which may be the only reason
I am still alive.

So, move on.
So, carry on.

WWW VI: October

Words from the Whispering Woods: VI

It's not about the supernatural or the unknown, but I deem it worthy of the WWW series. It just fits the vibe.

"OCTOBER"
October 2009

Prologue of frost:
Echo your cold-aged word
Between sweet bare wood,
Being disrobed
As you begin striking down
Its millions of veils.

Harvest wind:
Refresh my skin
And break my sweat,
And whisper stories
Of Pagan dances
And mask-hidden ghosts.

Crimson woods:
Set my path alight
With your blazen canopy.
What has remained
Of your fiery veils
Is my warmth and solace.

WWW V: Red Moon

Words from the Whispering Woods: V

Inspired from a section of a book titled "Marie (or Slavery in the United States)" by Gustave de Beaumont.

"RED MOON"
October 2009

Ominous red moon,
Be not a sign,
Be not a warning,
Do not attest
To the sorrow I now foresee.
Ominous red moon,
Be but a lie,
Be only harmless hue,
Camouflage yourself in white.
Let our anguish be eased.

I must keep her inside.
I must not let her look at the sky.

A deadline of three days
From today has been set.
Either one side will surrender
Or all of their soldiers be dead.

We must arrive soon,
Be still alive,
Be in good health,
Brother of she
Who travels alongside of me.
We must arrive soon,
Onward we ride,
Onward, my horse.
Two days have passed, and
I've promised reunion tomorrow.

I must keep her inside.
I must not let her look at the sky.
Her faith would surely crumble.
The blood of a man glows above our eyes.

She sleeps in our caravan
With hopeful dreams of her kin
Outside, this night is painted red,
And so she must stay within.

I must keep her inside.
I must not let her look at the sky.
Her heart would surely go still
From the burden of this fateful sight.

The sunrise will not be long.
We will find our destination soon.
Fate, let my intuition be wrong,
And rid us of this ominous red moon.

Island

"ISLAND"
October 2009

There is no distraction.

I could wallow pitifully
In perfect fantasy:
Living surrounded by beauty
On the most serene
Beaches of all continents,
And mysterious lakes,
And all the world's pools.

I could roam in the depths
Of shallow love
And wade in the misery
Of constant ecstasy.

In the endless waters
Filled with living things,
Vast, and great organic things,
Numerous, but only things,
Islands grow.
Dots on a canvas.

She is one,
And small,
And treacherous,
But the sun always finds her,
And shines on her,
Illuminates her above all else.

The ocean's current drags me
Away from here,
But I always see this
Painful paradise,
A mere dot in the distance.

WWW IV: Lady in White

Words from the Whispering Woods: IV

Loosely based around the legend of the "white lady" of Union Cemetery in Easton, CT. There have been many sightings of this woman in both Easton and Monroe. The story I based this on was that of a truck driver who, in the middle of the night, hit a woman in a white dress with his truck... then when he got out, of course, no one was there. I'm pretty sure this is a common story, and non-specific to this local legend, but it's cool nonetheless. Of course, I didn't include a truck since I like my lyrics to have a more timeless feeling.


"LADY IN WHITE"
April/May 2008

It was such a bewitching night,
And my eyes and my legs were so heavy,
Yet I thought nothing would stop me.
Running...

It was such a bewitching place,
Littered with graves and tombstones,
Yet I thought nothing would stop me.
Running...

It was such a bewitching hour,
All I could think about was home,
So I thought nothing could stop me.
Running...

The sight of a lady in white
Draped with long, black hair
Came into my vision like a flash of light,
We collided and both fell to the ground.

As I pulled myself back onto my feet,
And I clutched my weary head,
Still throbbing with pain from the blow,
I reached out, to offer her my hand.

Yet I felt nothing but the air so cold,
And a fearful sweat slid from my brow,
And I saw no figure beside me,
Beneath me, around me.

But in the distance I heard her voice;
A tortured, indistinguishable cry.
What a horror that swept through my soul!
And I prayed that nothing would stop me.
Running...
Running...
Running...

WWW III: Ember in a Dark Shroud

Words from the Whispering Woods: III

This was a piece I wrote five years ago. It occurred when I looked up at the sky, and it appeared that something in the sky was on fire. It was just the sun being partially obscured by a cloud, but it inspired me to write this.


"EMBER IN A DARK SHROUD"
April 2004

For only a moment
I could swear
That the sun,
Ruler of the day,
Had slain the moon,
Ruler of the night,
And taken over his kingdom.

I stood on a hill
And watched the blue clouds part,
For only a moment,
And reveal a shimmering orange;
An ember in a dark shroud.

For only a moment
I could swear
That the skies,
Guardians of the earth,
Were consumed by flames,
Guardians of hell,
So they might live with their brothers:
The stars.

WWW II: What Still Remains

Words from the Whispering Woods: II

This is based on the legendary woods of Dudleytown, in mountainous northwest CT. This was once a section of the town of Cornwall, back in the 1700s(-ish). It had a population of only around 100 people, who all eventually either died or moved away. Today nothing remains there but abandoned woods, some paths, and some remnants of foundations of old houses. It is believed by many to be haunted. It is absolutely illegal for ANYBODY to trespass or even park near the entrance of these woods, as it is currently owned by the Dark Entry Forest Association. The area is heavily patrolled, and people are frequently fined or arrested immediately on sight simply for parking their cars on Bald Mountain Road or Dark Entry Road.


"WHAT STILL REMAINS"
April 2008

Upon a hill,
At the entrance
Through a gateway of mysterious vines,
All of the sounds of life end.
No creature dwells in this realm.
Nothing lives but the trees
And the wind.
Yet there is a presence,
An energy, lingering,
Of what once was
Miles deep inside these woods,
Seeping through abandoned foundations
Of a dead, old village,
Lurching down the abandoned path
Of a dead, old road.

Those who dare to venture
Past the warning posts
Into this forbidden ghost town
Will still have to contend
With what still remains.

The yell of a voice without a throat
And presence of hate without a conscience
Beckon the shadows
Of ravenous mongrels at your feet.
Angrily creaking trees
Cry out the call of banshees,
Pleading with you
To leave
And never return.
A force burns out your lantern
And crawls into your head;
You stumble onto the dirt,
Stricken with vertigo.

And now you have to run back,
Back to the warning posts,
Out of this forbidden ghost town,
For no one will contend
With what still remains.

WWW I: Projected Visions in Sleep Paralysis

Words from the Whispering Woods: I
"PROJECTED VISIONS IN SLEEP PARALYSIS"
Spring 2009

At a strange hour I half-woke
Long before the morning crept in.
The room still shaded deep blue,
A half-moon half-illuminated an odd sight.
Indistinguishable figures
Danced on the ceiling,
Seemingly joyous but demonic;
Devilish half-human insects.
Yet,
Only my eyelids would move,
Opening my eyes halfway
As my entire body was paralyzed.
I could not speak
To these odd entities.
I could not leave my bed.
Still,
Despite this night's
Unexpected supernatural infection,
Despite my mind's
Foreseeable apprehensive inclination,
I remained only
Half-afraid.

Nick's Blog

As I have been doing a lot more writing lately, this blog will feature many of my lyrics/poems/whatever you want to call them, and anything else I deem relevant to post up here. Many of the lyrics will be labeled as part of a series titled "Words from the Whispering Woods." This series of works is centered around the supernatural/paranormal/unknown. One day, I hope to put these pieces to music, though I have no idea when. Enjoy!