Eyes see the Fate near
Yet foresight cannot avert
Blindness by peeler
A Brief Life’s Despair
Entering into being through fire and exiting through a dark, damp abyss, one is forced to question the meaning of such an existence. What value is there to being when it begins and ends so cruelly and endures so briefly? What can one accomplish of any value within that minute bit of time allotted to assert, “I am”? It matters not whether it is spent adored upon a golden pedestal or trodden on upon the floor. It begins in a melting of substance within a vast inferno, screaming hotly and unwillingly into consciousness. It ends in a dark chasm, being slowly crushed, mauled, and profaned upon another’s soiled tongue, having one’s essence negated by another’s hot saliva, being pummeled with acid in a stagnant void into…eventual…nothingness…perhaps a fanfare-less, post mortem burial at sea of which we are not conscious. Such is the uncelebrated fate of us all – the cookies.
Cry of Vengeance
Alas! the dagger draws near to my heart –
Yet only a day hence my brethren dear
Were gathered in cheer and – lo, we did start
When yon hand of vill’nous god we did hear.
Painfully peeling back each soft layer
Didst that foul ghoul most dread hast’ly proceed;
A slicing and dicing monstrous slayer,
He most skillf’ly forged on with heinous deed.
Plucked while yet wee, I did sadly cry out!
So, here I take my vengeance, vicious lord:
Whilst you slice into me, o heartless lout,
Victory – ‘tis brief, for weeping is my sword.
Take heed, dear brethren onions – unite all!
Pluck out the foe’s eyes lest we might all fall.