Victory

Doubt not your courage, for far more has been won with less.

Know that Nature protects her most hardened, like a delicate bird hidden amongst the pines.

Fear not your enemies those low crossing-sweepers, who look at you with distain. No, stand firm and savor their shallow wit, as they embark on their crooked titles.

Face their rage and foolish barking curs. For only thou will eat their screams and feast on their pain.

Victory will be yours alone. While those malevolent souls, remain poisoned with cowardace, and grasping at dangerous treason.

-Johnny V.

Forever Lost

Forever lost in the wisdom of her shame.
My distorted and accused heart leaves pride at blame.

Our strength lies dormant in her unquiet pain.                   
Weakened by love, she cuts deep my essence in stain.
                 
The Devil steps from the gallows and my time draws nigh.
Desire's thorny crown hollow and black is ignored by demons on high.

Her true thoughts hidden and decorated with a shoud.
I, am left an ancient spirit, lost defeated and proud.

My superficial courage hangs upon her bloody cross.
She leaves my soul in godless agony and fearstruck loss.

Pretend

They worship at her altar shine, but it sparkles with false gold.  The path to her forgiveness is littered with guilt and pain. They have yet to understand that the angel they love, is different from the devil of their grief.

Their grief is powerful and they would sell their souls to lift it from their heart. Alas there are no buyers for grief alone is worthless.                                

They attempt to curry her favor with feeble strives to undo the sins of their past. Unaware that the world of those attempts is different from the one in which they were committed. 

So unfulfilled they linger in her presence,  unattended and blind.  Simple empty ships alone at sea.  Pleading, but denied the tender touch she once pretended to possess.

-Johnny V

Mystified

She walks barefoot through the fires of Hades, and still leaves unscathed. For even Lucifer is left mystified by her cruelty. Her lovers are countless, and their souls forever hers.

The carnage left in her wake, is on the far side of understanding. So she and her devotees splash in the shallow pool of ignorance. Leaving their fate in the hands of false gods, and sleepy titans.

Unable still to be free of her enchant they linger in a purgatory of doubt, knowing only her fictitious delight. Clinging to hope in the dim light which becomes unhealthy in her darkness.        
                                                      
-Johnny V.

God's Dignity

All to often we grace God's stage. With lackluster, and mediocre talent. Lines  scarcely memorized, clumsy blocking and false props. Performed before an audience of deviants, both vintage and newly fondled. Our attempts at dignity feeble at best.      

Courage that is nourished within our breast, turns sac cloth before our superiors. The gentlle morning mist becomes violent torrents of ocean waves when brought before his torch bearers. So we continue with dishonest manners, clinging to the nook-shotten lands of our fathers.

But still we fight, for within each of us is the scent of God's courage. Bestowed since the sun was an infant. It is that power that gives us our victories, sadly the very same will be our downfall.     

-Johnny V.

Action

That moment when fear gives way to the stingy slut of action, we are forced to face life's ungoverned miscreants raging with hate. Forgotten, brefreft of reverence, and desperate for a skirmish of violence. Cries against our kin, those proud fierce solders of pride stand proud. That dismal battlefield of the commonwealth, grey as the sky at dusk yet unaware of its future task.
                     
When the final bugle sounds, the raw stench of a neglected sewer-ditch, fixes itself in the air above the blood stained and newly hallowed ground as the scarlet liquid feeds the soil. The once dauntless and sure generals with tear-dashed cheek evaluate what is left of their whorehouse of shame as they hang low their brows.

Our  cochineal courage lay dormant in need of approval from the law-stationer’s god. Many will leave with empty scared souls. Those who remain, battle-worn and grateful of a gentle rain. This event complete, homeward they march. Ever forward heads riding broad with the trust that today death has been paid his due.

-Johnny V.

Her Respect

Secure your terrors to the lonesome mast, step bravely into the promise of the future. Allow the most pearlescent star to forever be your guide. Once the sea calls, only a frightened few will have the strength to deny her what she desires.

Stand and face her vastness, knowing the countless victims that came before still imprisoned beneath her calm blue belly. Make the deck your rampart, and face her head on, for earning nature's respect is a treat for the very few.

Evoke and curse her winds and waves that thunder against your eager vessel. Keep your heart true for within the bosom of God we are all saved.  Beware for the sea, that beguiling and naive slut will drag many to her ultimate greed.

-Johnny V.

Conclave of the Gods

Do not be horror-struck to gaze into Lucifer's eyes. For he too a sinner, and as the serpent looked heavenward with shame with a mouthful of Eve's bitter fruit.

In the gentle and fond hands of God we are all one. Saint, forgiven each besmirch, and sinner wiped clean. Face the storm head on, for we are only brief passengers riding a phaeton chariot on this pale rock. Once departed our memory fades, our mark under a thinner veil.

Stand strong with righteous zeal and shun the path of the despondent bearded son, and revel in the conclave of the gods. Hold fast to the breath given you, be content as the robe-maker in his kingdom rather the king of the simple minds.        

-Johnny V.

Night's Mist

The morning dew conquers the night mist, my avendaged and broken siern peirces my hope, I call out yet my protective angel is distant and obscure.   

I am left to her fickle whims and mocking laughter. I conferred my naked and inpassionated soul unto the sacrosanct of her april scented bossom, but her release of me left it inbittered and lost.   

I handed her my heart fueled with the courage of 1000 martyrs, but reclaimed it dry as the desert sand on an August day.

I have overcome my wound although it is deep it no longer holds any power over me. Where she is to this day I know not, I worry not.

But as the morning wind brushes the trees I hear anguish. Alas, she has attended to the fools lined at her threshold. Those naifs awaiting a mere glimpse, of her deep soft emerald eyes.  

-Johnny V.

The Harpy's way

My heart is thronged with contradictory decorations, and allowed only second-hand emotions. She has left me inter-wreathed with brimstone and unmet desires.

Sitting upon a black-velvet cathedra she calls me from the lattice windows. Her compulsions are chief and demand attention. Grasping at my neck cloth she tightens her sinewy grip. My disadvantaged heart is forever padlocked to her and her kinsmen.

My work, she claims is incomplete, I must she says, entertain her Hell-born, savage obligations without hope of reward. For within her ungentle suburb, Midas holds fast to his coinage.

I am to be her caddy, her ploughman as she tends to her faithful and eager whores each awaiting her pansophy. Although she often speaks as a fresh trumpet from the precipice of a moral high ground, her slight and bifurcate tongue will indeed sour the truth.

-Johnny V.