Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Sea of Hate

Hot is the Sea of Hate,
All who swim, drown.
Deep do they sink
Into the currents of fate
Pulling them forever down.

Burning coldly in jealousy,
They sink to the rocky bottom.
Believing in their own pomposity
Like those of Gomorrah and Sodom.

They rise from time to time.
Spitting accusations of fire,
Only to be dragged back down,
Into the muck and the mire.

In the Sea of Hate.
They will always burn.
It is there only fate.
No more lesson to learn.
Their only lesson is to burn.

Turn your backs on them
Anger is their motivation.
Go ahead and let them be.
Let them simmer in their own aggravation.

Fear is their only reason,
That makes them do the things
They do.
They would enjoy a season,
Of torturing the Hell out of you.

Do not join their game.
You know what the end will be.
For you will never be the same,
You too will drown in the
boiling sea.

In the Sea of Hate,
You will always burn.
The time is getting late,
And the innocent must have their turn.
For they will never burn.

© By R. A. Barbere

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

(We are the) Masters of the World

Flying high
In the sky,
We are the Masters of the World.

Flying Low
Flying slow,
With banners waving and flags unfurled
We are the Masters of the World.

In our terrible machines,
Built so pristine,
We fly beneath the sun.
No sounds are heard
As the fields are burned,
When all was said and done.

In the night
Looking bright
We are the Masters of the World.
We heard the call,
We saw the heavens fall,
We are the Masters of the World.

Over the land
Over the sea
With outstretched hands
We set you free.

To choose a life,
Under the sword and knife,
It doesn’t matter to us at all,
For we have heard the call,
We are the Masters of the World.

Take a look some night,
When all is silent,
And you will see a sight
That will give you a fright.

Fires blazing on the horizon,
A shadow hanging in the sky.
The time is drawing near,
As the world turns and cries.

Fires bringing death,
Between each and every breath,
We are the Masters of the World.

As quiet as mice,
As cold as ice,
You lay there curled
We are the Masters of the World.

No more disease,
No more war,
Praying on your knees,
On the edge of the shore.

To all who hear,
Those far and near,
To the Masters of the World.

You ask why?
What have you done?
To deserve to die
Under the lightning gun.

Was it too much violence?
Not enough silence?
Does it matter anyway?
Does it do any good to stay?
When all is said and done?

Too many victims,
And no one has won.
Was it the sins of the ancients,
Inflicted upon the young?

Time cannot tell
For the hour glass fell
Spilling out all the sand.

No music is heard
Not even a word
All across the land.

Our ship flies straight
Without malice or hate
We are the Masters of the World.

Over the barren ground
Under the sea,
No life was found
By the Masters of the World.

All is quiet.
All is right.
We are the Masters of the World.

© R. A. Barbere

Monday, December 17, 2012

Reign of Fear

Time is running out
For those who live here.
The stars are coming about,
Beware the rein of fear.

When the stars are in place,
On some peaceful night,
A change will happen in space,
The heavens will be void of light.

It’s nothing more than destiny,
An ancient conspiracy,
Acted with total consistency,
Done with complete apathy,
And now without a tear
Comes now the rein of fear

Beware the rein of fear.

No stars will shine,
The sun will not rise.
And at a quarter past nine,
We will all begin to realize…

That this will be the end,
The beginning of the final moment.
Time will have been caused to bend,
And many of us will be content.

Many will run with panic,
Others will try to hide.
A cry will ring out from the aged and sick,
There will be those who shall abide…

The end will not be merciful,
The end will not come fast.
There will be nothing anyone can do at all,
From no one shall this sword be passed.

A time of darkness will be at hand,
For those who still live.
We will try to make one last stand,
No one shall remain to forgive…
Fighting will break out all around,
Death will live in the streets.
Blood will flow across the ground,
And the end will be complete.

It’s nothing more than destiny,
An ancient conspiracy,
Acted with total consistency,
Done with complete apathy,
And now without a tear
Comes now the rein of fear

Beware the rein of fear.

R. A. Barbere

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Baktun number 14

When the middle of the night
Turns as bright as day.
The day is without light,
No more music will play.

All the glass will windows dissolve
As your village burns down.
All your problems are solved…
Now buried below the ground.

Oceans and lakes evaporate,
Old hates are forgotten
No more city or states,
All your friendships turn rotten.

No more animals or birds.
No time for grass and trees.
No more time for wasted words
Only death blows on the breeze.

Well laid plans now spoiled,
Those of countries and of men.
Everything sacred is now soiled,
Despite the laying on of hands.

The ice is now broken,
With never ending snow
The last rights are spoken
For all life here below.

Shadows and substance
Of the dead and brave.
Wanting to refinance
A world now a grave.

Look into the mirror;
No more fears;
No more tears;
No more oracles;
No more seers.

Look into their eyes,
No more lies;
Everyone dies;
No more aged;
No more wise
When the sun falls from the sky,
The moon turns blood red.
The stars will scream out –
‘It is done!’
Your heart is filled with dread.

Day after day after day
After the last day was done
Day after day after day
A new age has begun.

© By R. A. Barbere