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Max Barber Poem
Broken, dark, alone.
Confined in cubical prison.
All expression has been sucked away,
leaving a hollow shell.
As hunger starts to take over,
your given table scraps.
Only to prolong the suffering,
to slowly wither away.
In the beginning you scramble about,
searching for inevitable failure.
Barred, boxed in forever,
no means of departure allowed.
Slowly motivation dies,
and you return to remaining still,
and wonder throughout the only thing left,
the flowing imagination in your mind.
In your corner of the world
you think of happiness and joy,
yet unreachable in the present.
You mourn for eternity.
Delusion slowly sets in,
hopeful sighting becomes fictional imagination,
leading to madness,
and emotional corruption.
Slowly you grow more rigid,
building to the climax.
Searching for with all will put forward,
for an escape route.
Finally, the answer is found,
only one way is possible
to escape positive loss of sanity,
losing all wits whatsoever.
You must accomplish a feat,
to great for mere mortal.
Guided assistance is given,
and you open the door.
And step out into the world.
Copyright © Max Barber | Year Posted 2009
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Max Barber Poem
Clouding, gathering around us,
unforeseen entities stroll about
commenting on our slight misjudgments.
In humor they watch us.
They say, "Those imperfect little beasts,
roaming their territory with weapons drawn,
guarding little scraps of matter.
Worthless in the eyes of the mighty."
Fraught with flaws from foolish habits,
they cling to misguided tradition.
Implanted in their mind they know the truth.
The way it was meant to be.
Yet purposeful they turn away.
We know not why they act so.
So confused are they toward us,
scrambling to gain knowledge.
Why must they endure this life?
Why break the promise of Him?
What compels them to sin?
The one and only rule that was given.
HIS answer: Temptation
It fills their minds with second guessing,
deceiving them away from obvious choices.
So pleasing at first glance,
and the fish is caught.
Slowly creeping up so swiftly,
catching them in unprotected sections.
But why is this so?
Why create this... temptation?!
It is created to separate
the chosen from the foolish.
True faith cannot be flawed so easily,
and the strong move on to join us.
In the paradise of Unforeseen Entities.
Copyright © Max Barber | Year Posted 2009
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Max Barber Poem
Hidden in shadow,
it lurks about our minds.
Deep within our souls.
It plugs into our reasoning.
They see us and observe us intensely.
Hoping to catch our faults.
Stabbing ideas and thoughts into us.
Without the slightest regret.
Scrambling to trip us,
to fall in their streams of nets
rigged around us, ever waiting
for the slightest mistake.
What must be done, they whisper.
We can't keep up with Him.
Hell's gates are waiting,
the lines of dead are withering.
The Devil
You fools, we have no time.
The Nemesis is conquering the flesh.
We must stand our ground,
for the time has come to act.
Copyright © Max Barber | Year Posted 2009
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Max Barber Poem
As if in slow motion,
emotion reaches conclusion.
Swirling throughout your brain,
dictating our every action,
unable to be suppressed or subdued,
it reigns supreme over logic.
As if in slow motion,
emotion reaches conclusion.
Thoughts become words,
words become actions,
action decide the future.
Actions reach conclusions.
As if in slow motion,
emotion reaches conclusion.
Emotions conclusion swells,
dwelling in your mind,
resulting in a shiny brilliance,
yet unexplainable.
As if in slow motion,
emotion reaches conclusion.
Reaching the peak of being dealt with,
another option must be found
to release the overwhelming feeling,
and a tear runs down your cheek.
And as if in slow motion,
emotions conclusion is reached.
Copyright © Max Barber | Year Posted 2009
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Max Barber Poem
Like flowing rivers beyond the trees,
in the jungle's canopy.
Underlying Entities unforeseen
to the bare eye.
At it's precipice it's true flaw arisen
to be seen and feared by many.
By waterfall or death that comes about
outcomes do not vary.
Screams, yelps, and worry
overcome us with sudden terror.
We shriek with sudden regret,
fearing the outcomes of choices.
But in the end we see the truth,
the identity and stimuli of our fright.
Just a simple, natural flow of time,
not to be frightening or grieved.
Death is life, a new beginning,
all flaw is washed away.
To grieve is pointless, a waste of time.
Move on.
Copyright © Max Barber | Year Posted 2009
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Max Barber Poem
Lined with glittering gold,
filling passerby's with envy.
The gate to paradise stands,
awaiting the chosen few.
Indescribable beauty within,
the very essence of joy is overwhelming.
All darkness is washed clean,
leaving pure light in it's wake.
Supernatural spirits embody this land,
waiting for your arrival.
With arms wide open,
welcoming the newcomers.
Everyday better than yesterday,
no lid to limit your emotion.
Your feelings overwhelm you,
with splendor you gaze about.
You begin your ascent up the golden step,
rising to the King of Kings.
Laughter springs up all about,
soon it consumes you.
Don't look back,
the left behind made their choice.
Lose all sight of the past,
don't regret your path.
Walk up the stairs into Heaven.
Copyright © Max Barber | Year Posted 2009
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Max Barber Poem
The fallen dwell in fire,
this pit of everlasting chaos.
Impossible to escape the grasp of death.
They are stuck in Hell.
Unable to gain a single breath,
they choke in agony amongst millions,
while the king of lies laughs
at the mass of his accomplishments.
Gazing over the crowds of people,
gaping mouths screaming in pain.
Gnashing of teeth in true horror,
thrashing about in heaps of body.
And the ruler is pleased.
He delights in suffering.
Laughing, he grins, and satisfied,
returns to his dwelling.
Copyright © Max Barber | Year Posted 2009
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