Piper's Toll As the hours tick, I feel the presence of Uncertainty, Lurking in the shadows of the sanctum of my soul, Still I sup from Will's sweet chalice, in spite of Doubt's most desperate plea, For I know no good shall come if pay I Piper's bitter toll.

Loyalty When I kissed you, all my sins and past transgressions were forgiven; Upon your lips and nubile hips my sacraments were given; When I saw you, all my woes and cares were fast forgot, For in my green and youthful years, I’d found what agéd sages sought. I showed you to my family, defending you midst any scorn, I gave you offerings so gleefully, even if my shoes were worn, And then one day you showed me signs, evincing all my deepest fears: Staying out and hatching schemes you thought would never reach my ears. I gave you soul and all I got was sour earshot loyalty; I was seen as jester though I treated you as finest royalty; And so, I sewed myself some schemes, using loom of anguish, Slowly watching artful gleams within your eyes to languish. I knew not what you’d done, so I did it all—for karma’s sake— Nor what lies you’d spun, so I did all holy truth forsake, And even though my soul did yearn, to you I did uninterest feign, So all your heart could rive and churn, knowing the taste of when feelings wane. And then I saw you slip, perchance result of all your woes, On my birthday, of all days, you’d leave me for your lustful throes, And so I followed you to catch you midst depraved proclivities, But lo, I found that all your schemes were simply for my own festivities.

Hearse Driver Used to play piano, Knew my way around a snare, Now I live accelerando, Spitting notes upon the air; So, as the days do get a-goin’,
All the notes do look so foreign, Even as my eyes are borin’, Nothing seems to a take a moorin’; Writing verses for the mountain tops, While I dwell in slade; Praying rhythm never stops, And all my vices ever slayed, And all my sins will ever fade; And even as the slavers stand, I pray my flesh is never flayed; Sentando en el mundo, Contemplando lo oculto, Y los planes grandiosos, A pasar de los payasos, Afilando mis #poemas, Y rompiendo mis dilemas, Y cortando femme fatales, Por el bien de las verdades. Ahora en alemán. Ja ich habe viele Gedichte, Doch meine Gedichte sind nicht eure; Im Laufe meiner Jahre, Habe ich meine Sprache, Für meine Ohren gefertigt, Und ich bin noch nicht fertig. En inglés otra vez. In the course of my sweet years, I’ve made my language for my ears, Despite the cheers or jeers from peers, Within this cockpit, I’m who steers, In spite of all that stands adverse, In spite of leers or acrid fears, I’m the one who drives this hearse, Time won’t simply stop for tears; Couldn't find a single dove but many swine for pen, yeah; Using gifts from far above so I can hone my ken, yeah; Some cages catch the best of sages, Got to use your watch and gauges, Sharpen crafts, avoid the traps, And write your rhymes upon the pages.

Of Clowns and Jesters Many a heart and dynasty, Lie shattered, for some do proclaim, "I'll make your wish a certainty," Then on your soul do stake their claim. Clowns and jesters offer laughs, Purportedly to steal your frowns, But oft intent malignant festers, Leading them to strip your crowns. Open eyes and understand: Temptation comes in any form, Fruitful harvest beckons storm, Sweetest honey's housed by swarm; Open eyes and understand: Darkest night is guised by day, So if a wolf does offer wool, Turn the wolf away.

Thin Palls and Coffers I've swum amidst the dry of raging Sea, Tasting brine of Triton as the waves devoured me. I've found that Sol is but a flame, Within the bowels of sour Night, And that the creatures I did tame, Did grant a deeper sense of fright. I've searched through all the bullion, Stored in palls and coffers, But all I've found were chests of sin, And phantoms in the dead men's lockers. I've scoured for aught of change, Upon this Beast I walk about, But all I've eyed is mange, And blood upon this Creature's snout. Upon this sinking Ship I look no longer for repair, I look now for survivors that my Crafts can save from Sea; So many codes I must decrypt whilst drinking down this caustic air, Whilst in abyss the divers search for aught that brings them glee.